"I dug my key into the side...

..of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive." Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood.

I love that song--even though no one (at least, not to my knowledge) has ever cheated on me.

So today I disengaged myself to Big Bear.

I marched in to his coffeeshop, carrying a Christmas box of trinkets that he gave me (ok, so it was empty except for a card thanking him for his participation in the charade) and his ring (which was, in fact, a twisty tie) and I stood at the counter waiting for him to notice I was there. There was only one table with customers at it, a group of guys discussing gravity, or something equally boring. My little drama was much more interesting, as they stopped their discussion immediately and watched.

In the back was the manager (or so I assume) and other workers at the coffeeshop. Big Bear was wiping off the counter opposite where I was standing. It was not long before he turned around and stared at me. I stared back, my eyes stony, my brow wrinkled with a frown (I think the term used to describe the expression on my face was "stinkeye").

"Hello," he said, a trifle nervously.

"Hi," I said shortly, and glared a moment longer. His normally cheerful countenance became so serious that it might have even been a bit angry.

"Well?" He said, with one very impolite eyebrow raised expectantly and very condescendingly.

"It's over," I said scathingly, shoving the box across the counter toward him. The supercilious twist of his mouth wavered. "Here's the stuff you gave me, and here," I threw the ring across the counter at him "is your stupid ring." And I marched out, with my head held high.

I glimpsed the shock and distress on his face as I turned, but I didn't care. I walked out, a free woman, and leaned on a rail outside to gather myself after that breath-taking performance.

A few moments later Big Bear came out and we had a good laugh.

"Not quite as loud as I expected, but well done," he said.

We parted a few moments later on very amiable terms, and him with a devilish grin and a murmered, "I hope my manager is upset."

Ah, the things we do for entertainment around here.

Isn't it ironic?