Cheaters never prosper â€“ except sometimes.
He was from the city, Boston, Massachusetts with his family, well, from Boston. A Native American Indian, she was from the Sioux tribe and he, a third generation Italian, had a tribe of sorts of his own, with the family of La Cosa Nostra, the Mafia on his mother's side and relatives coming over from England in the 1600's on his father's side.
Yet, when it came to what really mattered, physical attraction, an appreciation for one another, and friends who were not yet lovers, they were not only in the same ballpark but also they had side by side club house seats. They had become inseparable best friends and seldom did anyone see one without the other.
Anyone who saw this unlikely pair together arguing in public could tell that they shared deep feelings for one another. Watching them argue was a comedy of sorts. Opposites attract was a saying that fit them perfectly. They were so unalike that they were so much alike in that respect. It was not unusual for them to start making out in the middle of an argument and to break off their kiss so that one or the other could make their point and continue the argument.
Saving the Earth was just as important to her as it was not even a conscious thought to him. She spent part of her every day doing something to help save the planet and he expended no effort at all to save anything but money when shopping around to see which gas station offered the best prices for gas. She drove a Toyota Corolla and he drove a gas guzzling SUV.
She was socially responsibility for everything around her and took personal pride in doing her part to help save the earth. He felt that he was doing his share by checking off the box on his tax return to donate three dollars to the national parks and by watching Al Gore's movie on global warming, albeit reluctantly upon her vehement insistence. She recycled everything and he recycled nothing. At the supermarket, she asked for paper and he accepted plastic. They argued over that, too.
The only time he recycled was to return all his empty beer cans and bottles to the liquor store to use his bottle and can deposit to buy, well, more beer. He recycled only when he knew she'd be watching and criticizing him for not recycling. After a while, he just didn't want to listen to her nagging him on of all things, recycling. He was tired of that argument because he had no defense other than laziness.
She appreciated nature for its here today and gone tomorrow phenomenon and what the lack of conservationism had on the irreversible side effects with the balance of nature. She enjoyed taking an active role outdoors in helping to save the planet and to conserve the earth's wonderful natural resources. He hated bugs and preferred watching National Geographic from the comfort of his chocolate brown leather recliner on his big screen Plasma television.
Yet, somehow, they transcended their differences and somehow they communicated. Somehow, when they were alone and cuddling on the sofa together, they spoke the same language when not talking but kissing instead. No matter, when not kissing, so far on the opposite ends in their opinions, they always ended up butting heads in an argument over nothing and over everything.
He was just as unconscious of the repercussions of his carbon imprint on the planet as he was about his mindless waste of natural resources whether it was fossil fuels, flower, fauna or water. Conservation to him meant not littering. Matter of fact, after having seen so many scratched lottery tickets dotting the city's concrete sidewalks and street gutters, he was proud of the fact that he wrote a letter to the Massachusetts State Lottery Commission asking them to develop a plan where scratched lottery tickets could be returned and recycled for a discount to the consumer when buying their next scratch ticket.
Although the plan was accepted, adopted, and implemented, it never gained much favor with the genera