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Morgan Braddock knew other men thought his girlfriend was sexy.  He thought she was sexy.  He had 8×12-inch photos of her nude and in different poses in frames on the walls all around his shabby studio apartment.  He thought she was so sexy that several months ago he had given her an engagement ring he could not afford.  She thought she was sexy, too.

She also thought Braddock was a loser.  He had turned down a job as a caseworker with the State of Pennsylvania.  The job paid good money.  It had benefits.  It had respect and security.  Now Braddock worked a part-time job as a stock boy at night in a supermarket even though he had a BA in writing from the University of Pittsburgh.  Braddock stayed home all day blogging and drinking beer.

“I can’t stand this any longer,” his girlfriend said.  She made great money as an exotic dancer.  “Look at this place.”

Braddock stopped blogging and looked around his shabby apartment.  “I know,” he said.

“You sit there all day like a zombie.  Do you really think you’re going to make money, I mean real money, blogging?”

“Some people do.  Why not me?”

“Braddock, we’re through.”

And with that his sexy girlfriend walked out on him.  The door locked behind her.

Braddock was in shock.  It was over.  He got up and stood at the one window in his shabby apartment.  It was summer.  He could see the Cathedral of Learning of the University of Pittsburgh standing 42 stories high against the blue sky.

“I’m no good at relationships.  I’m no good with women.  I’m no good at love.”

There was a knock at his door.  He went to the door and opened it.  To his surprise his sexy girlfriend stood before him.

“You came back,” he said.

“Here,” she said, holding out the engagement ring to him.  “Maybe you can get some of your money back.”

The End

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