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2002-11-11 - 2:18 p.m.

diva and I are veterans.

Through the years we've fought and lost countless battles. Our dismal losses may be due to poor strategic planning, or blamed on our simple-mindedness, or they may be the result of faulty reconnaissance of the situations. No matter the cause, we always end up defeated.

A half a dozen years ago diva's oldest son got married. Caught up in the joy of the upcoming celebration we planned a "wet" reception in diva's back yard following the cake and punch reception at the church, and we went about ordering kegs of beer. And we ordered one too many (poor strategic planning). We saw no problem with this; the keg had not been opened so we'd return it on Monday. A full keg is heavy, but after much straining and rolling and hefting, we got the damn thing in the back of a borrowed pickup truck and back to Wal-Mart. It took some finessing and a lot of contorting but we eventually got the keg from the pickup bed and into a shopping cart.

The Battle Of The Beer ensued at the Customer Service counter. In our mind a full refund was due for a full keg of untapped beer. That, however, was not Wal-Mart's policy. We had a predicament, but it took us only seconds to resolve it. We'd by gawd keep the beer and drink every last drop of it before we'd give it back. Not being totally obtuse, we did realize getting the keg from the shopping cart back into the truck was going to be challenging, so we asked the Wal-Mart representative for assistance. This, however, was not her job, nor, apparently, was it her job to call anyone else to assist us with the unwieldy keg. We were still the owners of the keg, so we could deal with it. Although not victorious, we had a final parting shot.

Diva, grumbling along behind the wobbling cart, loudly shouted back over her shoulder, "Yeah well, lady, let me tell you where you can put this keg!"

Where we put the keg, after several long minutes of embarrassing struggle in the parking lot, was back in the truck and eventually on my back deck, where it stayed iced down until we drank it dry.

Last month we engaged in The Campaign With CableCom. diva had gone home one evening and discovered her cable had been disconnected (simple-mindedness). Following a call-and eventual blood spilling--to the company she knew why. She was told she had, for two months, failed to pay her bill. Another dilemma, but we mustered our defenses and marched on the cable company. At first I declined the invitation to accompany her into battle with CableCom, but she persevered-yelled-until I surrendered and tagged along with her.

It was a bloodbath and, no matter how hard we fought to convince the CableCom accountant diva was not one to neglect her bills, we lost the fight. diva coughed up payment for the two missed months, plus an inflated re-installation fee and we hissed and grumbled our way out the door.

Our most recent conflict was last week when we engaged in a Scrimmage With The Sofa-Sleeper. We were attending a three-day conference at Lake Ozark and staying in an Estate Suite at Marriott's Tan-Tara Resort. Televisions in these suites are not in bedrooms but in the living/sitting room. diva and I both like to sprawl comfortably when watching TV so we were delighted to discover the couch was a sofa-sleeper (faulty reconnaissance). Returning from Sunday night dinner (and a few margaritas) we quickly assembled the sleeper, lugged our pillows off our beds and tossed them on the sleeper then jumped on. And started shrieking. The head of the sleeper lowered several inches, bringing the foot of the bed to a 90-degree angle. Working against defeat by a couch, we struggled to wiggle ourselves backward on the bed and succeeded in lowering the foot, but in doing so the framework of the sofa flipped forward, smacking the back of our heads and trapping us in the bed. Another loss.

diva and I refuse to surrender, nor will we sign peace agreements! We will continue to march into battle…and we'll continue to lose fights to beer, to large corporations and to couches.

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