Hopeless romantics have it rough.

Rodell Vereen was a simple man, with simple needs. Like all of us, he longed for food, shelter, and the soft touch of a lover. So he was stunned when he met Sugar, a twenty-one year old beauty from South Carolina; she was virtually everything he could have dreamed. Unfortunately, in a tale as old as time, smitten Rodell was chased away by Sugar’s mother, who considered him a churlish and ill-bred man, wholly unsuited to court such a fine young lady.

It reached a point where Mr. Vereen was willing to risk anything to be with his love, and under cover of darkness, he crept into her dwelling. They spent the evening plowing the fields of ecstasy, and with passion sated, Lord Morpheus beckoned, drawning him  into a peaceful slumber. Alas, he slept overlong and was awakened to find Sugar’s mother looming darkly. She called for the local constabulary, who promptly clapped him in chains and hauled him before the scales of Lady Justice, who knows not the weight of a man’s heavy heart.

With no small amount of luck, Rodell was released back into the world, but with one of the law’s bonds lingering upon him still: he was forbad to have any congress with Lady Sugar ever again. Unthinkable! He struggled with every sense –both those common and refined– to bring his soul into line with the terms of so harsh a bargain. The days stumbled blindly and desperately into weeks, and they in turn into torturous and lonely months.

At last –as the old year waned and the new waxed fresh– he could countenance this outrage to a man’s noblest instincts no longer, and made haste once more to fair Sugar’s chambers.  Being undetected in that first night’s trespass, he returned again and again. It was not everything he could have wished, this furtive frolicking in the darkness, but it was enough. She was enough.

But fate would not see his bliss last, unleashing upon him once again the scourge of motherhood enraged! She came upon him unexpectedly, brandishing a fearsome weapon, and demanded he stand by quietly as she once again summoned official aid. Rodell made a half-hearted attempt at escape, but truly, half a heart was all he had to expend, being as his was so consumed by the object of his affection. As he was carted away to jail, captive of both desire and man, he could feel his matronly nemesis beaming in triumph. He knew that the crone would tell a one-sided version of their tale to all who would lend an ear.

She would say to them: “Police kept telling me it couldn’t be the same guy. I couldn’t believe that there were two guys going around doing this to the same horse.”

(NOTE: For a more biased view of this tale, see this article.)