It’s My Birthday Too, Yeah!

September 6, 2006 at 1:29 PM | Posted in Journal | 1 Comment
  Yes-yes-yes, things are going well with Kim and I.  It’s a fool’s paradise, and we are indeed fools in love.  We are stupid happy.  When we get the internet back, which should be next week, Kim can update you in her unique style.  I already gave you my update, but I want to be consistent in my writing (plus I am sick of the mushy stuff) so I want to continue with my theme.
  I’m digging deeper into my memory for things to remember, and my memory’s remembering ability isn’t that memorable.  But sometimes a memory will jog another, and they all fall down, like domino’s, which is, oddly enough, the place I worked.
 
  In the 80’s, which were in essence my 60’s, I briefly lived with an older woman named Joy.  I was 21, she was forty.  We were both peaking.  I fucked her up, down, sideways, left, right, over and under.  It was a very good year.
  For the most part.  These things are not without a price.  This is a cautionary tale, I suppose, about how a relationship is not just the two people, but it affects the people around you. 
  I found a ticket stub which reminded me of an event.  Feb 20, 1986.  My 21st birthday.  ZZ Top was playing in the now disassembled Checkerdome.  I wanted to go, so I bought 4 tickets.  Me, Joy, her 11 year old son Ricky, and her 17 year old daughter, Rhonda.
  The thing about Rhonda, see, that I never got, was that she was a 17 year old girl.  She had lived with her dad, then came to stay with her mom, and I was there.  She was pretty, she was ultra-hip, terminally bored, and her eyes were perpetually rolled.
  I wanted to fuck her.
  Logistically, it wasn’t going to happen.  She was disgusted that I was fucking her mom, yet I was only a few years older than her.  I had a string of fantasies about that, I tell you what.  That’s some funny stuff right there.  I don’t care who ya are.
  But I threw out an olive branch, the concert tickets, in the hopes that we could all go together, masquerading as a dysfunctional family.  The concert ticket waved in her face, she was more civil towards me.  If only I could have parlayed that into a a blowjob.  Sigh.  So many could-have-beens.. .
  Joy worked for a podiatrist who had two offices, and he spent half the day in one location, and half the day in the other.  She spent half the day alone, doing paperwork and so forth, and the other day prepping patients for him.  How do you prep a patient for a podiatrist?  Well, you throw their ass up in the chair and take their shoes and socks off.  The same chair, by the way, that I convinced her to service me in on numerous occasions.
  I digress.  On Thursday–and I believe this was a Thursday, she didn’t go in till noon because she was working Saturday.  Since she wasn’t going in till noon and she was an alcoholic, she had a beer or three before going to work.
  Rhonda became incessed.  I’m sure it was merely concern over her mother’s well-being.  They started to argue, they started to yell, they started to push and shove.  They started to slap and pull hair.
  Rhonda was a bigger girl than her mother.  I stepped in to intervene.  Soon, I had my arms full of angry, screaming, kicking and yelling teenage girl.  But she smelled good.  Shit, Bryan, stay on track.  We fought back and forth from the living room to the kitchen and back.  Mostly just wrestling, and the bitch was pulling my hair.
  We stood back from each other, we took a break.  She punched me, right in the face.  I looked at her.  I punched her right back, right in her mouth.  Only time I have ever hit a girl.  She seemed a little shocked.  I was trying to get Joy out of the house, and I managed to, with Rhonda trailing.  We hopped into my pathetic Chevy Chevette, with her screaming after us, because, somehow during the course of the conversation, the topic turned to the concert which was that night, and she wanted an assurance that she was still invited.
  I invited her to suck my cock.  There was no way we were taking her after all of this.  I took Joy to work, gave her some time to calm down, did some relaxation and breathing exercises with her. 
  I took her back after work, and Rhonda was gone.  Ricky was home from school, and he hadn’t seen her, so we left to go to the concert.  It was a decent show, nothing special.  Interesting side note, however:  I was working at the warehouse at the time, and there was a smoking hot, I mean seriously smoking hot, babe in the office named Carla.  She said she was going to the concert that night as well.  I told her I would stand up before the show and yell for her, to see if she hears me.  She laughed at that.
  But I did.  Once we were in our seats, but the show hadn’t started yet and the lights were still up, I said to Joy, "Hold on, there’s something I gotta do."  I stood up, cupped my hands, and started to yell.  "Carla!- – -Carla! – – Carla!"  I stood there for a moment, looking around.
  A calm voice from about 8 rows behind me said quietly, "Hi, Bryan."  I turned and it was her.  Wow.  Fate.  It was meant to be.  But she was going out with someone else, and so was I.  Plus, she was completely not interested in me in least.
  . . . *Anyway* . . .
  We come home from the concert, and there is a note on the door, saying something about Rhonda being in protective custody with family services, or something like that.  It was late, we figured we would deal with it in the morning.
  The next morning, Ricky left to catch the bus for school, came back a few minutes later, spooked.  "There’s cop cars at the top and bottom of the street."  We sent him on his way, then we got in the car so I could take Joy to work.  She lived on a very short street, three houses on each side, and we could see that Ricky had been right.  At the top of the street, on the cross street, a cop sat, and the same at the bottom.
  Cursing quietly to myself, we got in the car and made like nothing was going on.  Why was I surprised, then, when the cop I went passed pulled me over?  Why?  "Oh, shit, he has his lights on.  He wants me to pull over!"  Why was this a shock?  Was I in denial?  They could have been waiting for someone else . . .
  I was arrested and booked on third degree assault.  I spent some time in a cell, then I was asked to write down my side of the story.  I did, at length, earning the nickname "Hemingway."  Cops are just hilarious, and endlessly original.  They tossed me back in the cell for a few hours, then released me on my own recognisance. 
  Afterwards, because family services got involved, I had to go to some counseling sessions with all of them.  Eventually, we all got along better, and Rhonda got over her aversion to a younger man fucking her mom.  She started going out with a forty year old man.  To spite me and her mom?  Who knows?  That was one lucky bastard, though, getting some of that sweet, young–
  Nevermind.
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  1. Found you on Caroldee\’s Space Walk site. So glad to hear you two lovebirds found each other and are "stupid happy." 🙂 I\’ve been married for 17 years and I\’m pretty stupid happy too. Interesting post. Sounds like you were pretty wild. I love the "why life is like pizza" list!


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