Must Be Maggie

Critique Welcome

You look like you have been up all night.

Yeah, we had the break-up fight.  Marcy is gone.

I am really sorry to hear that.  She was a nice kid.

Thanks, it's sad, I really loved her.

Tell me, what did you fight about?

Her name.

I thought you were progressive; why not let her keep her name?

No, we fought over her first name.

You fought over the name "Marcy"?

Yeah, my parents and even a couple old friends kept calling her "Maggie".

And "Maggie" is the name of an ex-girl friend?

Two ex-girl friends.

What?

Just coincidence, I broke up with one Maggie and took up with another.

You had back to back Maggie's?

It just happened.

You got to admit there are real advantages to dating girls with the same name.

Yeah, but these two were polar opposites.

So what was the first Maggie like?

Maggie the first: a wild country girl with long, long legs; loved to party.  She grew up on a dairy farm near Steven's Point Wisconsin and had a lot of living to do to make up for all those years of isolation and chores.  God, when we would go back there to visit we hit every beer joint along the way.

In western Wisconsin, that's a lot of taverns.

Damned straight on that, couldn't keep her out of those Wisconsin bars.  On our last weekend together she dragged me into a college bar after a rugby tournament.  The guys would toss a pitcher of beer on the floor then slide through it naked.

Testosterone poisoning for sure.

Anyway, she was having so much fun we stayed Sunday evening to party, figuring we could drive back to work early Monday.  I had to physically drag her out of there so we could get some sleep.  She was loaded and didn't want to leave, so she starts at swinging me.

A domestic over leaving a bar, how redneck can you get?

It gets better than that. We make it back to the farm; then after I fall asleep, she sneaks out and takes my car back to the bar.  I wake up about 3AM to drive back to work in Minnesota; no Maggie, no car.  An hour later her parents get up for chores.  They make me eggs and coffee -- still no Maggie.  Then about 4:30AM, we hear the sound of loud muffled country music coming from a pick-up crunching down the drive-way.  Maggie gets out and starts screaming obscenities at the people in the truck because they didn't want to party anymore.

Pretty hardcore.

Yeah.  While I am standing at the front window with a cup of coffee watching her, her father comes up behind me rests his hand on my shoulder and says "You're a nice kid, you deserve better than my daughter."  He drives me back to the bar to get my car, and that is the last of saw of any of them.

So what about Maggie Redux?

Complete opposite.

So you over-compensate, I bet this one was a saint -- common mistake.

No kidding.  If there is a Mr. Right, there is a Ms. Right and Maggie was Ms. Right.  She was a perfect 10, smart, funny, successful and everybody loved her.

So what did she see in you?

A project.

No, not the project!

Oh yes, and not only me, but all my old buddies as well; scared the crap out of them.  It was weird, I had people I hardly knew inviting us to dinner because they loved her - and then all my buddies suddenly vanished.

So you broke up with her.

I had too.  It shattered my mother's heart but I still did it.  She really loved Maggie.  They still exchange Christmas and Birthday cards.

Card exchangers -- scary.

See what I mean.

So how does this all affect Marcy?

Marcy - Maggie.  The names were just too close.  But my parents even called Shelley, Maggie.  They never could get over my dumping Maggie II.

You never called Marcy, Maggie, did you?

(Silence)

NO!  Is that what you fought over?

Not lately.  Last week we went up north with my parents.  No sooner did we get in the car when my dad goes "Hi Maggie!"  My mother scowls at him then turns around to say "Sorry Maggie, he's bad with names".  We drove two hours in absolute silence.

Ouch!

When we got up there, my dad says "We are going to check in.  I guess you kids got some talking to do."

Fighting is more like it.

Yeah, it ended this morning.

So now you are free, enjoy yourself!

Sure, but I will never have peace until I find a girl named Maggie.

No problem.  That's why God invented the internet.

What?  Troll for women named Maggie?

Sure, set up a Match.Com account and in your profile say "Must be Maggie" with a smiley face.

How creepy is that?  Talk about baggage!

Not really, put your story out there.  Everyone tries to distinguish themselves there.  I bet all the Margarets, Maggies, Marjories, and Margis would get a kick out of it.  They will detect that you are looking for commitment.  They like that sort of thing you know.

Must be Maggie; I like it.

© Greg Schiller, 2007
Author: Greg Schiller

The first part in this series on relationships can be found at The List