The Icktacular Qualities of A Boy Named Cupid

Oh hush now! I’m not referring to the mythological god of erotic love. I’m talking about my ex. And I really didn’t have to think all that hard before repulsion kicked in. Hey now! I do have nice things to say. This is not a slam piece. Promise.

On Being Cupid

He was clever. Such a smart boy to refer to himself as a god who brought people to uncontrollable desire with the piercing of his arrow. He was confident. He knew what he was working with. Hmm yeah. I was smitten, fooled by that Cupid who managed to have a cell phone and a pager (oh giving away the age a wee bit ‘eh) that went off constantly explaining that it was his friends contacting him. That Cupid was generous with his time. I believe it’s called being a people person.

And Cupid was an excellent lawyer. He ran laps around Harvey Specter when it came to submitting his case for moments missing in action. He really knew how to make me view situations from another perspective. He wasn’t late, the train was delayed (across town where another friend just so happened to live). There’s another hidden jewel, multitasking. Best of all, Cupid was good with his money. Never came across an activity that didn’t have a bargain alternative. Why waste funds on movie tickets when you can buy a $5 dvd from the guy on the block?

Oh, that Cupid, he knew how to give experiences I would never forget. Being with him was legendary like his name sake. It was so epic, it doesn’t need repeating, except as a cautionary tale.

For other stories embracing the ick, check out daily prompts.

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