PARENTAL ADVISORY:
This blog contains explicit sexual content, violent imagery, and comic mischief. If you are related to me in any way (Including Auntie Nat; Excluding The Professor) PLEASE don’t read this blog. Should you choose not to heed my warning, the blame falls on you, not on me. Like the end of ‘Seven’.
The first time I had my heart broken was a little over ten years ago. Late in 1997 my friend Arch stopped by one evening after school to see if I could procure them some cigarettes from the highly illegal Drive-Thru down on Mahoning Road, as I was the cigarette dealer to all the misspent youth in the area. Smokes were still about $1.75 at the time, so I could charge the kiddos $3 a pack, still a deal, and make myself a handsome profit in the process. At the time I drove the Delta 88, which got upwards of
One Friday evening in mid November Arch stopped by to get some smokes. I was grounded for the weekend for doing some retarded shit (a story for another time). The only thing I had on the agenda for the weekend was to watch all three Star Wars movies. Preferably in a row. I had just gotten back from Lanzer’s house where I had borrowed the VHS box-set, when the doorbell rang. I went from my room in the basement to the front door and Archie and this brunette girl (who we’ll call One) I had never seen were sitting on the stoop. I sat down, lit a Camel and starting talking to them. One was new in town and had just moved in with her father and step-mother, who lived about half a mile away. Then this Girl who I’d been talking to off and on walked up to my house and asked me for a ride to work, and having nothing else to do, decided to drive her into town to the restaurant she worked at. I really wasn’t impressed with One and honestly forgot about her for the time being.
So the Girl I was talking to as the time was friends with One, Arch, and a few other kids that lived in my general geographic location. We all began to hang out, and being smokers, I was their nicotine pimp. Part of the joys of being the only one with a car and a license in the area, I suppose. I was over at Girl’s house listening to music and getting my teenage flirt on and One just wasn’t getting the hint to bug off and let me and Girl be alone for some quality make-out time. Taking the cock block a level further was when One asked me to give her a ride home after screwing up my flirty fun make-out time. Sure, anything to get you to shut up and impress upon Girl that I was a nice guy to her friends.
Then one day, out of the blue, One calls me and asks if I can take her to get smokes. Sure, no problem. I was heading out to get some for myself anyway. That soon turned into “Want to go hang out at the park with the guys?” which morphed into “Want to go to the park and hang out with me?” Girl and I had pretty much stopped talking due to a guy in her grade, so I figured what the hell, why not? And all that led to us starting to date.
I spent pretty much the whole summer between junior and senior years at her house. We enjoyed the same music, the same shows, and the other random bullshit that make a High School relationship a High School relationship.
A few months go by and her parents go out of town and leave her and her dirt bag step-brothers to watch the house. Now what do dirt bag kids do when asked to watch a house? Yes, you in the back with your hand up? That’s right: throw a party. Not being allowed out past 11, and with a party at my girlfriend’s house I do the only thing a seventeen year old can, nay MUST do. I kissed my mom goodnight, went to my room, shut the light off, waited until the old folks sent to sleep and snuck out the window to walk to the party. Was it an eventful party? Not at all. But it did have one consequence. Seems one of her dirt bag stepbrothers got drunk and either passed out in the yard with a plastic bottle of cheap vodka, or got drunk and decided to throw said bottle in the yard. That bottle got missed when they did the perfunctory post teenage party cleanup. Who found the bottle? One’s father. So he calls the police and everyone at the party gets in trouble. Everyone but me. Her step-mom thought I was a nice boy and knew I would get my ass kicked for sneaking out to go to a party at a girl’s house that my parents disliked. So she failed to mention to her husband that One had told her that I’d been at the party. Everyone at the party gets put on probation and gets random drug tests and whatnot, pretty standard stuff. It was then that I found out the One partook in the marijuana on a pretty regular basis. So she had to stop smoking pot and get her shit together due to legal constraints, and from what I could tell, did so.
Her probation went by and she was no longer drug tested on a regular basis, and we’re sitting in her room watching TV on her bed. I start to doze off and her phone rings. Its one of her friends congratulating her on getting off probation and saying pretty much good job on stopping smoking pot for 6 months. Then she said the words that wake me up and kick in my teeth. “Well, the thing is I didn’t really stop smoking. I just hid it from everyone and got some of that tea from my sister that cleans out your piss.” I sit up, look her dead in the eyes and say “You’re a fucking liar” and storm off. The Delta 88 got well over its
The thing with me and pot was that I kind of outgrew it. I used to get high and all that stupid teenage shit, but it just kind of petered out after I stopped hanging out with the stoner crowd. Pretty much like after I turned 16 and could drive places and do things other than sit around and get high in someone’s basement or barn it was just kind of played out for me. It was kind of “Holy shit, I can do other stuff that’s WAAY more fun AND legal now! Fuck smoking pot and listening to Pink Floyd man, I’m out of here!”
It was the lie that really pissed me off more than anything. Plus here was a girl I’d spent the better part of a year with who was high pretty much all the time. So I decided to get high with her and show her that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. That didn’t work at all like I though it would. It pretty much just encouraged her to smoke more pot. At my wits end I typed up an Ultimatum. It pretty much said “It’s the drugs or me” thinking the choice was clear: I’m a pretty decent boyfriend while pot was just sketchy green stuff that made the Grateful Dead tolerable. I drove over to her stoner friends house and gave her the note, telling her I’d see her tomorrow at lunchtime after she’d had time to read it and make a decision. Know what the decision was? Pot.
I was destroyed as a person. It wasn’t just the getting dumped; it was the getting dumped for drugs. I was like ‘Really? Over pot? Goddamn stoners….’ And I had to spend the rest of the day at school completely wrecked, telling everyone everything was OK when they asked why I wasn’t being the funny sarcastic guy they’d all grown to know and love. The kicker? I get into my car after the longest day ever was over and drive out of the parking lot. What comes on the radio? ‘Why Can’t This Be Love’ by Van Halen. I turned to the radio and said “*Sigh*….Fuck you Eddie Van Halen…” Then I went home to be left alone. Alone with my hatred for Van Halen.
This is why I really have no love for drugs or the people that use them.
During the few single months to follow I had the prerequisite Rebound thing going on with a friend of mines ex-girlfriend and future ex-wife. You see, the day after One threw me under the Technicolor VW minibus to be with her one true love, drugs; Ex-Ex gave me a note in First period English class. I came into school looking like a bag of shit and generally not caring at all about life. Hair a mess, bags under my eyes, unshaven, same clothes I wore the day before, smelling like I slept in an ashtray, the whole first heartbreak falling apart thing. The note kind of kicked me out of my self-induced stupor. What did it say? “I want to molest you 12 different ways. <3"> Naturally being the honorable person that I am, even after my first big breakup, I go to said friend and ask his permission to …..well, I’m not really sure what I asked his permission to do. Date her? Bang her I guess?
But we didn’t really date, per se. It was more of a “My parents aren’t home, let’s go to my house and make out” type of thing we had going on. And at that point, that was fine with me. The permission was granted with a “But Dude…you know she’s the Congressional Representative of Slutsylvania, right? Like after her and I broke up, she decided to change her career choice to ‘Full Time Whore’. Yeah, go for it, I guess. Better wrap your rascal though.” Then over Christmas break my mom and I drove out to
The second day I was back from
This is why I don’t do One Night Stands.
The second girl to break my heart was a whole different story. See to explain this one properly we have to go way back. Like Junior High back. I was in Eighth Grade, and she was in Sixth. Turns out that even though I was one of the kids that kept to myself and she was one of the popular preppy click girls she had a bit of a crush on me from seeing me in the hallways and whatnot. Did she tell me then? Nope. This was all learned after the fact. When you’ve just gotten out of a relationship based on lies and then went against your better judgment and banged a slutty girl in your English class, it kind of swells your pride to hear shit like that, you know? Buy yeah; I went stag to a High School dance my senior year, shortly after One used my heart for rolling papers and burned my emotional well being to ash like so much cheap Gondo bought from a sketchy guy at the park. A mutual friend that knew of her love from afar set me up to dance with her. This apparently made her night. A few weeks go by and while looking up local people on AOL I see Two’s profile. So I sent her an Email and we start chatting. We meet up for coffee and start to hang out pretty regularly. I tell her that after what happened between me and One, I really didn’t want to put myself out here and have a girlfriend for fear of getting my heart kicked in and having Van Halen mock me yet again. She pleads her case, saying she’d never lie to me, that she’s been pretty much in love with me for years and that I should give her a chance. I think about it and decide I need to get over myself, and that everything she said was true. That is the event that leads to us starting to date.
This is one of the few girls to make me mad and piss me off on a regular basis. I mistake that for “Gee….I must really care for this girl if she can get to me like this.” Nope, she was just an irritating twat. So I meet the family, who love me by the way, and we get fairly serious. Her 12 year old little brother in particular. But I think that had something to do with the fact that I played video games with him and took him to McDonald’s and shit. Oh, and I bought him a Darth Maul Lightsaber. You know, since I had the Qui-Gon Jinn one. Anyhow, she meets my family and they like her. This is a welcome change from dating One. The folks HATED her because she was kind of slutty and whatnot. And I think Big Liz could smell the fact that she was a degenerate stoner. So I come home from work one night and see Two and Big Liz sitting in the kitchen talking. “Uh oh…..What’s all this then?” Turns out they double teamed me to get me to go to the prom. I had already told Two ‘Absolutely Not!’ on the prom front. But when your mom and your girlfriend team up on you? You don’t stand a fucking chance. My only condition? A Tux with Chuck’s. Prom goes off without a hitch and I’m bored as hell. Graduation nears and the school year draws to a close.
With the school year wrapping up, the Sophomore French class has the option to go on a trip to
She starts babysitting for someone her parents know on a fairly regular basis. And with that comes sex in a stranger’s house, which is pretty fun if they have a pool. I go over there one night to get my groove on after the kids go to sleep and she’s not there. In fact, the parents aren’t even going out that night. I’d been lied to again. OK, I’m going home to be irritated and call her house. Her parents have no idea where she is, they assumed she was out with me. Nope. This was not the case at all.
Turns out she had lied to her parents and me and was at the County Fair with some friends. And by ‘some friends’ I mean ‘some friends from work and a guy who was in the grade between us. Turns out the fact that I was broke at the time, from spending all my money on her, wasn’t getting the promotion I was being promised at work, and assorted other reasons that didn’t make sense to a rational non-twatty human being I wasn’t worthy of being her boyfriend. So instead of dumping me like a human with a heart would, she decides to cheat on me and then lie about it. Oh and when I call her on it she confesses that this isn’t the first time this has happened.
She first cheated on me with a guy she worked with about three months prior. While I was at her house playing Pokemon with her little brother waiting for her to get off work. Wonderful! The second time she cheated on me was in
When she gets home and finds me on AIM I pretty much ask “Where the FUCK have you been? You stood me up AND lied to your folks. Anything you need to tell me?!?” The answer was yes. She confessed that she’d screwed around on me, crying, and told me that no matter what she still loved me. I’m not even crushed by this news, since I’d suspected something like this for some time, so I’m fucking furious and told her I should have followed my instincts and never dated her in the first place. She then broke down and confessed her repeated infidelity, in pretty fair detail, out of spite. This is NOT what someone wants to hear at any time for any reason. I support telling your partner that you cheated if you’re really sorry about it, but don’t go into detail and don’t rub it in. that’s just crass and rude.
She goes on to say that the reason she can’t date me is because I’m a loser and she doesn’t think I’m going to go anywhere in life. Due to the fact that it was the summer after Graduation and I was treating nowhere near as such. I was however, going to school full time and working 36 hours a week and working on taking my tests to get promoted from head cook and cashier at KFC to Shift Supervisor. Yeah, that shows that I’m lying around being a lazy fuck and not doing anything with my life, like bettering myself instead of fucking random dudes in foreign countries. At this point she’s pretty much TRYING to piss me off by saying I never meant anything to her, calling me pet names I’d shot down because they weren’t cute, clever, or accurate and, this is a direct quote, saying “your fuck was fun.” Who the fuck says shit like that? Like you screw up a relationship by cheating and you try to shift the blame to other person when they say “Jesus, I told you this wouldn’t work.”
One of the hardest things about splitting up with Two was the family. Her parents loved me and her little brother adored me. When I went over to her house to get some CD’s and shit I’d left over there, little brother asked me all teary eyed “Can we still be friends? Are you still going to be coming over to play Game boy with me?” I kneeled down and looked him in the eyes and said “Kiddo, I don’t think I can. You’re a really great kid and we’ll always be friends, big guy. But I don’t think I can keep coming over here now that your sister and I aren’t dating anymore.” Then I hugged him goodbye, got in my truck and waved at him and the parents as I drove off.
This is why I can’t date a woman with kids. You’re not just breaking up with the girl; you’re breaking up with the kid. And I'm not sure I can do that again.
To Be Concluded………
