Divorced Dating and Damn Drama (10 page)

"I'm sorry." I say sympathetically.

"She has affected my life. For instance, I have to make sure my woman knows her place." Randy says with confidence spitting the chewed tobacco into his black cup.

"Excuse me?" I say with attitude. I mean, come on.

"Well, I have to, by law, be nurturing and loving to another human being I need someone who will obey me." Randy says taking another bite of chewing tobacco.

"What?!" I ask.

"You know I just want to be safe for my daughter." He explains then spits into his cup and repeats the action a few more times before I speak.

"Why does your potential girlfriend have to obey you just because you have a daughter who you lost custody of?" I demand. I mean maybe this is the reason you lost custody.

"You just don't understand." He whines getting up and dumping the contents of his cup into the trash. He then shoves some napkins in the bottom and sits back down just to spit into his cup.

"What exactly don't I understand?"
I ask, attempting to confront his anti-feminist beliefs.
Is it just me or does he have a problem, and I'm not just talking about where he stands on women rights.

"You don't have kids so how can you possibly understand?" He shouts. Several people turn their heads in our direction. He then shoves the remanding chewing tobacco into his mouth.

"Ok, you're right, I don't understand why a woman has to obey you because you have a child." I said trying to calm him. I really don't like people staring at me in public.

"That's what I said. You know my woman would have stopped talking by now. She would have just nodded her head." He says matter-of-factly spitting a big old wad into his cup.

"I'm sorry; I'm clearly not up to your standards." I say then get up and leave. Why on earth would anyone want a man who talks like this? You would think he would be kinder due to the fact he lost custody of his daughter. I now know why his last relationship didn't work out.

Aside from the money it is hard being shunned at your favorite restaurant
. I used
to purchase Get Up Chinese food every week, but since the divorced I've only gone twice and both times they were more than rude to me. I just find it is amazing how people's hate for me transcends money. Someone would think that when you are running a business that you would not turn away a paying customer. But the town's hate for me has grown. I kind of wish I had married a loser that stayed a loser. I think people believe Henry was the best thing that ever happened to me. A lonely little house wife with a big shot lawyer. However, I'm not a lonely house wife and he is only a big shot lawyer because of me. They think that because we got a divorced that I am nothing. I am still a somebody.

Sara and Ruby decided they wanted some Get Up food and since they paid, I had to drive to get it. It's late out and one of my front lights is broken. It still shines, but the plastic part is broken. Still works though. So I don't think I need to get it fixed. What? I can't go around fixing every little thing that breaks in my car. Who do I look like, a millionaire? So I find myself driving down a dark road. There are only street lights in the city part of the town, but the rest of the town is connected by thin narrow back roads. There is no light except from my headlights and a sliver of the moon that is peeking above the tree. So I drive a winding
back road with one light with no plastic in it.
It's starting to get cold; having a plastic bag window isn't exactly good for the winter. I'm driving down the road and having a blast listening to the radio. That's the one thing that never fails. I arrive at Get Up food and go inside.

"Hello, I'm here to pick up Sara's orders." I say ringing the bell. Someone from the back comes out and stops. He is wearing brown khaki pants with a white t shirt. His hair is long and pulled back into a ponytail. I know him. His name is Hansel and when I was married he used to hit on me relentlessly. But I guess he didn't like me, he just wanted to get to my husband. Everyone wants my husband. They think his success will rub off on them, consequently they are under the impression that my shit will rub off too.

"You're not Sara." Says Hansel, cleaning his glasses
with his t shirt.

"I'm here to pick up her order." I reply meekly.

"We do not do business with you," Hansel said while crossing his arms. See, they hate me.

"I know. Can I just get Sara's order?" I ask avoiding eye contact.

"Only because if we said no we would lose money because we already made the order." he says and I hand him the money.

"That makes sense." I say as he hands me Sara's order.

I take the order and head out to my car. I get inside and set the order in the passenger seat. I turn on the car and start to pull out of the drive way. As I do, I try to flip on my radio and find nothing there. My radio was stolen. Why would anyone steal my radio? The one thing in my car that worked they had to steal. At least they didn't break it. If they had broken it, then no one could enjoy it, but now at least the burglar can listen to its amazing sound. This is sarcasm people. It's not that I want the bad guy to have it. I would just rather it work in another hands tha
n not work at all.
So I drive home with no radio. I still kind of know the words to a few songs, so I sing. It's not good but it's better than the silence. Everything is better than
the silence. In the silence my brain goes wild. I have a scatter brain that likes to
fantasize about people. But that's another story for another day.

How many cats do I have? Well, I have seven (if that's any of your business). My ex decided he should get the dogs and for some unknown reason, his friend the judge sided with him. Henry did not even know their names. I wish for one second that life would work out for me. But, yeah. Judge gave him sole custody of my dogs. How did that happen? I have no idea. I should really stop representing myself, and calling the judge a dried up fool no one would love. In hindsight, I should not have said that. Anyways, that is why I have seven cats. I got them because I wanted them. I wanted love and guess what? They gave it to me unconditionally. Unconditional love. But now I'm labeled as the crazy cat lady. I'm not a crazy cat lazy. I may be crazy but that was long before
I got the cats. If anything
, they improved my mental stability.

I did, however, meet a crazy cat man named Chris. I was immediately drawn to him due to his excessive number of cats. He has a solid number of fifteen cats and three kittens. He claimed that they were expensive and imported from France. When I saw the photos, they looked like street cats to me, but who was I to question a cat's blood line. We set up a date at once, he promised to bring a few of his kitties so I could fully relish their superiority.

We met at a local pet shop that allowed customers to bring in their beloved pets. I had never been here before because I have always bought my cat food, treats and assortment of play things at the Gossip superstore. Since I worked for Gossip Magazine I was considered some sort of store appointed affiliate so I receive a discount. That piled on with my many coupons made the popular store very affordable for all my cat needs. Back to the pet shop. So I waited by the pet adoption center near the front of the building. Chris quickly arrived with not a few perfectly polished pusses, but all eighteen. He had a three tier stroller that held what looked like eight of his cats, and had the remaining seven on leashes, like dogs. I have to admit it was overwhelming. Besides from his cats he was dressed in a peculiar outfit that appeared to be made out of cat hair. No, not just any cat hair, his cat's hair.

We greeted and I complimented him on his collection and outfit. He informed me that yes, in fact, this was a handmade outfit consisting entirely of his cat's hair. See, this is crazy people. This is what crazy looks like, not me but him. We then proceeded to mossy about the air conditioned store only to talk of his cats, not mine. Only his. He goes on to tell me their price, their blood lines, their ancestors, their sleeping habits etcetera. Chris seems obsessed with rearranging his cats because apparently they all want to ride in the cart. So, in order to keep the fighting to a minimum, he keeps switching them around. At one point he told me I had to hold two of his fattest cats or all hell would break loose. The cats didn't act like they minded, it was Chris who went into screaming fits in the store because he said the cats were fighting. He rattles on for a good hour, screaming every so often, before I make up an excuse to leave. I love cats, but this is excessive!

I think sometimes, well a lot of times, people over share the most disturbing things. I ask people questions and I am often delighted when they add extra little details about their lives. However, John took it to another level. We met in the drugstore parking lot. His idea, not mine, but who am I
to judge.

"I'm sorry. This is just a lot of information." I stammer. I am hopping from one foot to the next trying to stay warm. Meeting in the drugstore parking lot was a bad idea. I am really cold.

"I want to know what your take on this is." John asks, appearing to be concerned. He doesn't appear affected by the temperature and is sporting shorts and a t shirt.

"Well, things are often not what they appear." I say shuffling my feet.

"She abandoned me." John cries.

"I understand how you feel." I lie blowing into my hands.

"Do you? Did your own mother abandon you to a psych ward?" He asks.

"No, she... she didn't." I answer honestly rubbing the goose bumps on my arms.

"See, she loves you. My mother does not love me. The first time I set her bed on fire and she sends me away!" He exclaims.

"I'm sorry." I respond. Did he just say he set his own mother's bed on fire? What is wrong with him? Better yet, what's wrong with me? I mean really, these are the people that I actually meet. This kind of makes me wonder why we are meeting in a drug store parking lot.

"It wasn't like she actually was in the bed." John continues.

"I'm sure she did what she felt was right." I said slowly pulling my hood closer to my ears.

"Right, do you think electric shock therapy was right? Just because I strangled an orderly. He just passed out from shock, not lack of air." Omega, did he just say he strangled a human being? What if he plans to kill me?

"That's really disturbing." I admit out loud.

"No, what's disturbing is that I enjoyed it."John corrected. Wow. He enjoyed strangling another human being. I let that sink in for a moment.

"I just died and I need to go make my funeral arrangements." I said then got up and left. What? I don't think well under pressure. As I walk away I see him walk into the drug store. If he kills someone I might be called in as a witness. I turn and run full speed to my car then drive away.

When a guy is angry and yells at you saying it's your fault because he lost control, I just want you to know it's not. We have all been there. We have all been in relationships like this. Guys, especially, will do something wrong, then when they are caught red handed, they blame you. They say it is your fault, that you somehow caused their bad behavior. I am here to tell you that it is not your fault. They are cowards and bullies.

"Maybe I'm quick to anger because you are quick to pissing me off!" Shouts Daniel, 28, with a body that is littered with tattoos. I would say covered
but they are badly drawn and done, so it looks like litter. He has remarkable eyes though, one brown
and the other green.

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"I'm saying it's your fault if I hurt you or others." Daniel replied slipping his milk through a straw.

"What the What?" I shout.

"'If you upset me and I go out and hurt someone it's your fault," Daniel continues. He runs out of milk and starts chowing down on some Ribs. I have to admit the ribs look good. But enough about my drooling over his food and back to the conversation.

"No it's not! I'm not responsible for your actions." I say shoving cheese fries in my mouth.

"You made me do this." He says as he stabs the table with his fork. Wow, this guy definitely has anger issues.

"No! I am not at fault for anything you do." I stand up and walk away. I go to the fount of the restaurant and pay for my meal then head towards the door. I hear him from a distance.

"Don't you dare walk away from me of this is the last meal you will ever taste on this earth." I don't look back; I just open the door and keep walking. As the door closes his cries become muffled.

I know it's hard for people to walk away from mentally and physically abusive relationships, but you really need to. I would never ask someone to confront their abuser, because that's what they are-an abuser, but I can ask you to walk away.
Your situation might not be as black and white but if someone blames you for their actions get out and get out quick.

My car is the single thing I love most. My car is complete junk but it is all mine and I am very protective of it. So it really offends me when some jerk wad wants to either have me drive him around or just take my car. Just like that, just take it. It's like, I understand that cars are a big deal but I didn't save up to buy a car so you can just take it. Why on earth would anyone purchase a car so they can just let a stranger off the internet have it? Yes, they only want to "borrow" it, but come on. If you give them the keys you are never going to get it back. That car will be gone and knowing my luck it will gather tickets that I would have to pay.

"Come on, it's not my fault that I can't afford a car." Marcus whines. He is a 32 year old College graduate whom has had some bad luck. He never really found a job after college and just jumped around from one job to the next. I feel bad for him, really I do. I actually relate to him, my luck always seems to be the worst as well. I meet Marcus in at a fast food joint and due to the cold we both decide to
dine inside.