“You’ll never believe what just happened,” said my ex, panting, as he called from the now empty one-bedroom apartment that we shared for almost a year.
“I don’t know, what happened?” I asked.
“You’ll never guess, really. I can’t believe it,” he continued, sounding a bit in shock, but with a hint of the sarcasm that used to irk me even more than his habit of hanging a torn, decades-old wet towel to dry over our admittedly too-expensive white Anthropologie shower curtain.
“I dropped the air conditioner out the window.”