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I turned the corner at the local Dollar Store today trying to quickly get some cleaning supplies to help a friend in a swat style cleaning intervention.

And there was my friend, Not-Me-Again.

Why yes, I am changing the first names to protect the innocent … and the wildly guilty. But the last names? All Smith.

“It happened again. I’ve been Smithed again.” said Not-Me-Again.

Now in order to understand the significance of this statement … this Smith … you will want to know about Smith, Smith, Smith, Smith and Smith.

No it isn’t a legal firm.

It’s a series of events. That happened to my friend Not-Me-Again. I have known her through four of these events, so I know she is telling the truth.

Let’s go back to Love-Of-My-Life Smith, her first love. This was the one that she was with, then not with, then with, then not with. Love-Of-My-Life Smith is probably the one that she should have stayed with, but things happened.

As in one fight too many. But Love-Of-My-Life Smith lives far away … with her picture on his dresser and thinking of Not-Me-Again a lot … and Not-Me-Again lives here … thinking a lot of Love-Of-My-Life Smith. Even thought they haven’t been together for over ten years.

Then there is Super-Slimeball Smith. He appeared on the scene right after she was widowed at a relatively young age.  While she was still in deep mourning, Super-Slimeball Smith moved in, took  advantage of her, took her money … and left her. What a guy.

Let’s move on to the renters. She has allowed people to rent a room or two in her house. It seemed like a good idea. She had the space in her house and it provided her with some extra money … without all the hassles of a relationship.

First there was Sweet-Thing Smith. She was from the Deep South and butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She spoke with a sweet southern drawl … and presented herself as your very best friend. Her and her cute little kitten. And the dog.

Funny thing about Sweet-Thing Smith … shortly after she arrived, she seemed to have come into a lot of money. Everyone was happy for Sweet-Thing Smith.  And Sweet-Thing Smith was happy as well.

Then Not-Me-Again went to get dressed for an event she was attending with a man she had been seeing a short while. She wanted to look as much like arm candy as possible so she went to get her good jewelry … those earrings that set off her eyes so well.

And they were missing.

She went looking for her other, smaller jewelry box with some better pieces in it.

And it was missing.

Of course Sweet-Thing Smith quickly left town … leaving her kitten … and her dog … and a small jewelry box hidden under the mattress in her room. Containing some of the less valuable pieces of Not-Me-Again’s jewelry.

She placed the kitten … and the dog … and moved on.

A short while later, a man she only knew at a distance was in great need of a temporary place to live. His name was … you guessed it … Lord-Help-Me Smith.

Now Lord-Help-Me Smith had a spiritual awakening of sorts. So he was not going to be interested in anything … shady … with Not-Me-Again. And after all, he was only going to stay for a few weeks.

Five years later, Lord-Help-Me-Smith … and two dogs he had accumulated … were running roughshod over Not-Me-Again. Not paying rent. Not cleaning … anything. And expecting his dogs to be fed by Not-Me-Again.

Then there was the irritating habit of “As long as you are going to the store could you just pick me up some …”. And these items were never paid for by Lord-Help-Me Smith.

When suddenly Not-Me-Again had an awakening of her own … and evicted Lord-Help-Me Smith.

He left almost all of his belongings behind. And the two dogs.

Once again, after placing the two dogs … and removing the belongings …

A Granny Smith apple

A Granny Smith apple (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 Not-Me-Again found herself once more Smithless. And happy.


Except for Travelling-Salesman Smith. He seemed to pop in and out of her life from time to time. When he was in town. And they had a lot of fun.

But of course Travelling-Salesman Smith was oddly not available for phone calls. And didn’t tell her what his home address was.

Any light bulbs going on out there?

Yes, he was married.

And although he offered to “give it all up and move in with” Not-Me-Again, she felt that her time with Travelling-Salesman Smith had run its course.

Now if you are keeping count this is five people … five people named Smith … who have been less than wonderful to our heroine, Not-Me-Again. Well, unless you count Love-Of-My-Life Smith … that one had its moments.

I mean how many Smiths have ever been in your life? I haven’t had a one myself.

So we all figured the Smith epidemic was over. Occasionally we would talk about the coincidence and how unusual … yes, spooky … all this Smith stuff was.

Until I saw her in the store today.

Saying “I’ve been Smithed again.”

It turns out that some months ago a van came barreling down the road … and hit her car from behind. Damage was heavy and injuries were suffered all around.

Of course, I sympathized. “Oh how awful for you. I am glad that you healed well at least. But how were you Smithed?”

You know what is coming.

“Well, I was hit by I-Can’t-Drive Smith.” she said. “And that’s not all. You’ll never believe this one. Guess where I-Can’t-Drive Smith lives?”

I couldn’t imagine.

“She lives on Jones Street.”

Maybe I didn’t mention my friend’s name.

Did I?

It’s Not-Me-Again Jones.