Tag: #FunnyButTrue

Macchismo Got Engaged and All I Got was This Emotional Damage

🦴 Narrated by Oishi

It was a lazy weekend afternoon. Susan and I had just finished our chores—well, I supervised. She flopped onto the couch with the full weight of an emotionally distressed hippo. I bounced. My squeaky toy took flight. It hasn’t been seen since.

Still, I love Susan. So I sat beside her, placed a paw on her lap, and she hugged me like a drama queen needing a life raft.

Then she whispered, “Macchismo is getting married. He’s engaged. That woman even posted the ring… for the whole world to see.”

(Cue tragic violin)

For those not emotionally entangled: Macchismo is her co-worker at The Signal Co. and her not-so-secret office crush. Tall. Handsome. Jawline. Smelled like toner and danger.

Susan used to glance at him during lunch breaks like she was auditioning for a music video. He smiled once. She nearly dropped her donut.

Susan wailed, clutched her tote, and announced in her signature goat-in-distress voice,

“Oishi, badoodle! We’re going to the park so I can distruct myself. We’ll eat siopao. Donuts. I’ll buy you KFC.”

At “KFC,” my ears perked. Chicken heals all wounds, including hers.

At first, the park was peaceful. The breeze danced. Birds sang. Then—

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

That was Susan.

“Look at them, Oishi! They’re kissing in the park!”

And with that, the Bitter Commentary Hour began.

“This park is not your personal romcom! Other people walk here. I hope you both step on gum. She’s not even that pretty—sure, her hair is long and shiny and ugh fine, she glows, whatever. AND LOOK AT HIM, HE IS SO HANDSOME.” Who even has a jawline like that? And that chiseled face—he looked like a man who stepped out of a rom-com movie… or a romantic pocketbook from a bookstore. You know, the ones with titles like “Forever Mine (But Not Hers)” and “Just Kiss Me, Architect Daddy.”

After half an hour of Olympic-level sulking, I stood up and waddled toward the restaurant. She followed, dragging her broken heart behind her like a weighted blanket of regret.

We sat down. She kept glancing back at the lovebirds. I felt sorry for her, honestly. I wanted to say: Your time will come, Sus. So I did my part.

“Don’t worry,” I told her.

“She probably eats salad without gagging. And you and Boyo? You’d look good together.”

Boyo is our neighbor. Kind. Chubby. Soft-spoken. Not an Adonis or a superhero god, but he has a superpower: patience. Especially with Susan. He cooks. He listens. He once fixed her door with nothing but a screwdriver and a sense of duty.

But Susan? She ignores him like she’s the lost Victoria’s Secret model.

Still… I can’t blame her. Watching that couple in the park felt like binge-watching an action movie—high-stakes, dramatic, painfully public.

Eventually, we finished our food and walked a little more. Then home.

Back in the living room, Susan scooped me up, hugged me, and said,

“Thank you, badoodle. For being there for me. For looking at me like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.”

(I’m not.)

“For putting up with my drama.”

(Barely hanging on, Sus.)

“And for never leaving me.”

(Okay, that one’s true.)

I sighed. This is love. This is loyalty.

This is the emotional labor of a Shih Tzu with a PhD in patience. 🐾