Which Reminds Me

I remember Loren Popineau saying that he was afraid to get married because he did not want to be put in some woman's pocket, a pocket groom of sorts, a little puppet whose strings could be easily pulled by her. I had no idea what he meant by saying that. Well, fine, I thought, don't get married if you don't want to. I don't care. The thought of putting a man in my pocket had not crossed my mind nor did I feel any inclination to find out what he meant by saying that. The prospect of pocketing this type of useless wimp of a guy, so timorous, so cravenly afraid of women such as myself, increasingly hostile in fact, seemed ridiculous to me. So whatever. There was no reason for Loren to imagine that he was any kind of prize with that misogynistic attitude of his so openly on display. There was no reason for him to imagine that I would ever give him another thought, having shaken the dust off my feet in departure from that Sand Bar place I had briefly visited, only passing through obviously.