Last weekend Brendon was in town. Now normally his visits are something I look forward to, but this time he brought along an unexpected and honestly unwanted companion...his new girlfriend Tiffany. Before I even met her images had already conjured up of some big breasted blond bimbette who twirls her hair while obnoxiously chewing bubblegum like a cow. Isn't that what all girls named Tiffany are like? The same can be said for girls named Heather, Mindy, and Kelly. These are the exact kind of girls I try desperately to avoid.
The meet up was pretty uneventful. At one point she excused herself during lunch to go to the bathroom, no doubt to purge, and contrary to my previous image of Tiffany she was actually extremely waif like. How a man can find a girl attractive that has the body of a twelve year old boy is beyond me. Real women have breasts, hips, thighs, meat to cover up their rib cage. This girl was a white version of one of those save the children ads where fifteen cents a day can get them a Harvard education. Anyways...after skelatore left the table Brendon gave me this look. You don't know someone for years and not understand what they're saying without them even saying it.
I cleared my throat, "No comment."
"Wow, Ms. Opinionated has nothing to say? That's a first."
"Well I have two questions. Are you getting some and is it any good?"
A smile spread across his face. "A big yes to both."
"Then you have my blessing."
I know that you're thinking there's probably some sort of jealousy issue going on here and you couldn't be further from the truth. Brendon is someone I care about and his happiness means something to me when I couldn't give a rats ass about most other people's contentment, but I just can't support the whole "relationship thing". People have this compulsion to pair off with one another as if the world will stop spinning if they don't. The world is so overpopulated we could probably do with a little less baby popping at this point. Do you remember at the end of each episode of The Price is Right when Bob Barker would make some comment about "responsible pet owners spay and neuter their pets"? Well I think responsible people should consider doing it for themselves.
There is this little thing I call Single Girl Syndrome. Although guys suffer from it too, much like bulimia it's predominate in females. From an early age it gets drilled into girls' heads that if they don't find their male counterpart they are incomplete persons. What a load of bullshit! As I have previously mentioned Disney and cheesy romantic comedies are the main culprit. If a woman isn't paired off by a certain age she becomes some old maid while men remain the eternal thriving bachelor. Fuck that, I like to pride myself on being an eternal bacherlorette. There's no man out there no matter how good he can give it to me that will make me foresake all other cock.
Valentine's Day, New Years Eve, your birthday are all just ordinary days on the calendar. You will survive without some giant romantic overture, believe me when I say I've been doing great all these years without it. It's tiring to hear all the whining about waiting for that great love and how empty your life is without it. Get a dog, they're about just as intelligent as the average male and they can lick their own balls so you don't have to.
Or maybe you need to shut the fuck up and reevaluate things. Do you have a job? Are you relatively healthy? Do you have food and shelter? Then you have more than most people in Africa. How about re-directing all that energy to a quest for the full body orgasm? When you find it you will not regret it unlike love which seems to be full of regrets.
Visiters
Duplicitous
I guess I am surprised and at the same time I am not. Throughout the years many people have come in and out of my life for various reasons. There are a solid few that have known me a long time and have seen the worst of me, yet love me because despite it all they see the best in me.
I have only known you for just over a year, but we had that Pagan connection which meant a lot to me. We never fought, never really disagreed about anything, and were a support system for one another at certain times. You and I both shared the fact that we had been badly burned by people we cared about and for this reason it was hard for us to completely open up to let others in.
After yesterday's actions I have lost all respect for you. You are nearly forty years old, yet your actions are that of a child. Instead of talking to me face to face about things that were bothering you, you decided to cowardly end our friendship via text message and then post hurtful things about me all over your Facebook page.
How many conversations have we had where I have asked you point blank if you find it difficult being friends with me or if you find me negative? Quite a few. And EVERY single time you would smile in my face and tell me you didn't feel that way. When I explained to you recently that a person accused me of being a negative and draining your eyes bugged out and you shook your head saying it wasn't true. Yet yesterday you posted it on Facebook that you in fact DID feel that way about me. This tells me you are a lying, phoney, and insincere person.
I want to fall in love and start a family some day. This is not a goal specifically unique to me. And when I had difficulty with my online dating and vented to you about it you were supportive to my face, but then blasted me on Facebook for it saying that I should "grow up and re-evaluate my life". I have NEVER said those things to you when you opened up to me about the problems in your love life. I was always kind and supportive about your frustrations which were different from mine but just as important. I remember the day at lunch you opened up to a table of strangers, people from my training class, about how your marriage was over and you were leaving your husband. You made everyone so uncomfortable and I did damage control on your behalf. That wasn't the only time you did something like that either.
You say I have too many problems with too many people. The three that I have talked to you about in most frequency were individuals that SEVERAL other people had problems or issues with. So despite your Facebook post it isn't just me and I'm not the one with the real issue. A mom who burned people because she used her kids to scam money off people and then went shopping for herself with that money, a girl who flips out on people at the drop of a hat and alienates people at EVERY job she's ever had, and the person in our department that bullied both YOU and ME. So how is it just me?
The thing that hurt the most was accusing me of using you as a doormat, being a "Psychic Vampire", and ours being a one sided friendship. How many times did I offer to be there for you when you needed someone? I told you that you could call/text/email me anytime you needed someone. It is not my fault that you decided not to take me up on that offer. Yet you would bitch and whine that you had no one and felt alone. How many times did I listen to you talk about your problems with your niece and offer suggestions? That went on for months! Whenever you were out of work sick I checked up on you to see how you were although you never once did the same for me including the time I was hospitalized. And I stopped by your desk EVERY day to say hello and ask you about YOUR life. We both had things going on in our lives, I guess the difference with you and me was that up until yesterday I never kept a running tally or used the things you told me against you.
My blogging is not sad or pathetic. And if it is then so are you because you blog about intimate details of your life too.
I have never once been unkind to you and didn't deserve the things you did to me yesterday. To end a friendship over text message was cheap, disrespectful, and a pussy move. The same goes for your rants about me on facebook. For all the people that hit the "like" button on your comments I have to wonder how many of them would still feel the same way if they knew these were things you NEVER once said directly to my face. Additionally how would they feel if they knew that you smiled to my face everyday and reassured me I was a good person and good friend when clearly you felt differently behind my back. And thirdly some of those people are people you talk shit about behind their backs, at least you have talked shit about them to me on several occasions.
I tried to reach out to you to see if we could talk things out. Then it occurred to me, why bother chasing a friendship that was never real in the first place? At least it was real for me and that's why all this hurts so much.
You accused me of telling you not to invite certain people to your cookie party. What really happened was that I told you a certain person and I had a falling out. When I explained what that person did to me YOU immediately said "if that's the way they act then I don't want them at my party." I asked if you were sure because you didn't have to do that and you said you were. I have NEVER in my life told someone who they could and couldn't have at their house or party. If anything I offer to dis-invite myself to make things easier on everyone, which was what I was willing to do in your case but YOU insisted you didn't want the other person there.
You accused me of being associated with a Pagan group I have never even met. I told you I had joined them through an Internet site, but never been to a single one of their events. Yet this was reason #2 for you ending our friendship.
Listen we have free will and you can end our friendship at anytime for any reason or no reason at all if you'd like. It's cool, really. But don't make up reasons that don't exist and then attack me publicly for things I never did to you. What YOU did actually speaks far more to who you are than to who I am. There is a long list of people that have been in my life past and present that tell me on a fairly regular basis how much I have done for them, so I'm far from a psychic vampire. But you are entitled to your opinion, just realize I have lost all respect for you in the way you handled things.
I will chalk this up as a learning experience and be more careful with who I let into my life in the future.
I have only known you for just over a year, but we had that Pagan connection which meant a lot to me. We never fought, never really disagreed about anything, and were a support system for one another at certain times. You and I both shared the fact that we had been badly burned by people we cared about and for this reason it was hard for us to completely open up to let others in.
After yesterday's actions I have lost all respect for you. You are nearly forty years old, yet your actions are that of a child. Instead of talking to me face to face about things that were bothering you, you decided to cowardly end our friendship via text message and then post hurtful things about me all over your Facebook page.
How many conversations have we had where I have asked you point blank if you find it difficult being friends with me or if you find me negative? Quite a few. And EVERY single time you would smile in my face and tell me you didn't feel that way. When I explained to you recently that a person accused me of being a negative and draining your eyes bugged out and you shook your head saying it wasn't true. Yet yesterday you posted it on Facebook that you in fact DID feel that way about me. This tells me you are a lying, phoney, and insincere person.
I want to fall in love and start a family some day. This is not a goal specifically unique to me. And when I had difficulty with my online dating and vented to you about it you were supportive to my face, but then blasted me on Facebook for it saying that I should "grow up and re-evaluate my life". I have NEVER said those things to you when you opened up to me about the problems in your love life. I was always kind and supportive about your frustrations which were different from mine but just as important. I remember the day at lunch you opened up to a table of strangers, people from my training class, about how your marriage was over and you were leaving your husband. You made everyone so uncomfortable and I did damage control on your behalf. That wasn't the only time you did something like that either.
You say I have too many problems with too many people. The three that I have talked to you about in most frequency were individuals that SEVERAL other people had problems or issues with. So despite your Facebook post it isn't just me and I'm not the one with the real issue. A mom who burned people because she used her kids to scam money off people and then went shopping for herself with that money, a girl who flips out on people at the drop of a hat and alienates people at EVERY job she's ever had, and the person in our department that bullied both YOU and ME. So how is it just me?
The thing that hurt the most was accusing me of using you as a doormat, being a "Psychic Vampire", and ours being a one sided friendship. How many times did I offer to be there for you when you needed someone? I told you that you could call/text/email me anytime you needed someone. It is not my fault that you decided not to take me up on that offer. Yet you would bitch and whine that you had no one and felt alone. How many times did I listen to you talk about your problems with your niece and offer suggestions? That went on for months! Whenever you were out of work sick I checked up on you to see how you were although you never once did the same for me including the time I was hospitalized. And I stopped by your desk EVERY day to say hello and ask you about YOUR life. We both had things going on in our lives, I guess the difference with you and me was that up until yesterday I never kept a running tally or used the things you told me against you.
My blogging is not sad or pathetic. And if it is then so are you because you blog about intimate details of your life too.
I have never once been unkind to you and didn't deserve the things you did to me yesterday. To end a friendship over text message was cheap, disrespectful, and a pussy move. The same goes for your rants about me on facebook. For all the people that hit the "like" button on your comments I have to wonder how many of them would still feel the same way if they knew these were things you NEVER once said directly to my face. Additionally how would they feel if they knew that you smiled to my face everyday and reassured me I was a good person and good friend when clearly you felt differently behind my back. And thirdly some of those people are people you talk shit about behind their backs, at least you have talked shit about them to me on several occasions.
I tried to reach out to you to see if we could talk things out. Then it occurred to me, why bother chasing a friendship that was never real in the first place? At least it was real for me and that's why all this hurts so much.
You accused me of telling you not to invite certain people to your cookie party. What really happened was that I told you a certain person and I had a falling out. When I explained what that person did to me YOU immediately said "if that's the way they act then I don't want them at my party." I asked if you were sure because you didn't have to do that and you said you were. I have NEVER in my life told someone who they could and couldn't have at their house or party. If anything I offer to dis-invite myself to make things easier on everyone, which was what I was willing to do in your case but YOU insisted you didn't want the other person there.
You accused me of being associated with a Pagan group I have never even met. I told you I had joined them through an Internet site, but never been to a single one of their events. Yet this was reason #2 for you ending our friendship.
Listen we have free will and you can end our friendship at anytime for any reason or no reason at all if you'd like. It's cool, really. But don't make up reasons that don't exist and then attack me publicly for things I never did to you. What YOU did actually speaks far more to who you are than to who I am. There is a long list of people that have been in my life past and present that tell me on a fairly regular basis how much I have done for them, so I'm far from a psychic vampire. But you are entitled to your opinion, just realize I have lost all respect for you in the way you handled things.
I will chalk this up as a learning experience and be more careful with who I let into my life in the future.
Fat Bitches
****More from our friend JJ. Warning this is not for those that easily offend****
First of all I need to state that I recognize people come in all shapes and sizes, obviously some more flattering than others. I have no direct problem with overweight people as a whole. You like to stuff your face, I get it. I love food too, I just take a much less glutenous approach to it. What I do have a problem with are lazy fat bitches that complain about themselves while jamming a box of oreos down their throat. Allow me to elaborate.
Years ago when I first started working at Lani's there was this girl, some college kid looking for petty cash to play around with, named Simone. While I wouldn't call Simone a heifer, she was a girl that had quite a bit of extra meat on her. Once again I couldn't give two shits how much she weighs as it didn't affect my life one way or another. What aggravated me was her constant bitching about it.
Here's the thing if you are miserable about something in your life that you have absolutely no control over I get it. Grieve about it, adjust to the situation, and move forward. There are countless stories about people who rose above their shitty circumstances and persevered. Lifetime does a weekly movie about it. On the other hand if you are miserable about something in your life you have COMPLETE control over then shut the fuck up and do something about it. Seriously can someone please explain to me how hard it is to not shove food down your fat face because I just don't understand.
Simone was what I would classify as extra special. Not only was she so obsessed with her thunder thighs and stomach rolls that she felt the need to point it out to others, but she was seven different levels of delusional about why she was overweight. Once again I will admit that there are certain medical conditions out there that may contribute to a person's obesity, but this was far from the case. I have seen Simone gorge on cookies, ice cream, candy bars, and fast food every single day I worked a shift with her. But if you ask Simone the reason why she's had such significant weight gain it's because of her period, her anti-depressants, and all the stress in her life. Riiiiiiight! It has nothing to do with those chili cheese fries you inhaled for breakfast. Yes I said breakfast!
Before you go thinking I went turbo bitch on her let me explain I really tried to keep my mouth shut for once. My mom's voice kept ringing in my head "If you have nothing nice to say, then say nothing at all." Her voice shows up at the most annoying times. Anyways I tried to ignore Simone. I'd walk away or ask her to go do something on the other end of the store. I even tried the extreme abrupt topic change on occasion: weather, sports, politics....anything besides her fattness. None of it worked. It was as if she had a super power: stupidity force field where all logic and reason bounced right off of her. You laugh, but I bet you know at least a couple people with that same super power.
One day I reached my breaking point. It was bound to happen. She came into work in clothes that probably fit her best thirty pounds ago and the bitching began. My eyes rolled so far up in my head I was sure they would get stuck there. It started out as laughing like a mad woman because all this time spent with this crazy fat bitch had driven me insane.
She looked at me with complete confusion, "Are you okay?"
"I am, but clearly you're not. And I think at this point one of three things is going to have to happen: one of us quits, we never work the same shifts again, or you shut the fuck up about your blubbery body."
"You don't understand, I've tried everything and nothing seems to work. It's so frustrating."
"Ever consider Bulimia?"
"You're kidding right?"
"Not really. You seem to inhale food like a famine is fast approaching. I think you'd get faster results with anorexia, but I feel you lack the discipline required. So binge and purge seems like the best viable option."
Then the most beautiful thing happened, silence. She stood there speechless as I smirked and walked away. It probably wasn't a coincidence that about a week later Simone ending up quitting. Some lame story about needing to focus on her school work. This is just another example of my zero bullshit tolerance and how I like to get shit done.
P.S.
I know you thought I was done, but this whole experience reminded me of something else. There is an entire fashion industry out there that makes clothes to suit every body type you can think of from skeletore to shamu, yet why do countless women shimmy their flabby selves into clothes meant for runway models? Do not wear a bikini if you have more rolls than a bakery. Just say no to spandex, Lycra, and anything form fitting if you don't take care to make your form fit. booty shorts for those that have no booty is just plain sad. And under no circumstances does the public need to see your thong above your jeans. Before you dress take into consideration that other people have to look at you.
First of all I need to state that I recognize people come in all shapes and sizes, obviously some more flattering than others. I have no direct problem with overweight people as a whole. You like to stuff your face, I get it. I love food too, I just take a much less glutenous approach to it. What I do have a problem with are lazy fat bitches that complain about themselves while jamming a box of oreos down their throat. Allow me to elaborate.
Years ago when I first started working at Lani's there was this girl, some college kid looking for petty cash to play around with, named Simone. While I wouldn't call Simone a heifer, she was a girl that had quite a bit of extra meat on her. Once again I couldn't give two shits how much she weighs as it didn't affect my life one way or another. What aggravated me was her constant bitching about it.
Here's the thing if you are miserable about something in your life that you have absolutely no control over I get it. Grieve about it, adjust to the situation, and move forward. There are countless stories about people who rose above their shitty circumstances and persevered. Lifetime does a weekly movie about it. On the other hand if you are miserable about something in your life you have COMPLETE control over then shut the fuck up and do something about it. Seriously can someone please explain to me how hard it is to not shove food down your fat face because I just don't understand.
Simone was what I would classify as extra special. Not only was she so obsessed with her thunder thighs and stomach rolls that she felt the need to point it out to others, but she was seven different levels of delusional about why she was overweight. Once again I will admit that there are certain medical conditions out there that may contribute to a person's obesity, but this was far from the case. I have seen Simone gorge on cookies, ice cream, candy bars, and fast food every single day I worked a shift with her. But if you ask Simone the reason why she's had such significant weight gain it's because of her period, her anti-depressants, and all the stress in her life. Riiiiiiight! It has nothing to do with those chili cheese fries you inhaled for breakfast. Yes I said breakfast!
Before you go thinking I went turbo bitch on her let me explain I really tried to keep my mouth shut for once. My mom's voice kept ringing in my head "If you have nothing nice to say, then say nothing at all." Her voice shows up at the most annoying times. Anyways I tried to ignore Simone. I'd walk away or ask her to go do something on the other end of the store. I even tried the extreme abrupt topic change on occasion: weather, sports, politics....anything besides her fattness. None of it worked. It was as if she had a super power: stupidity force field where all logic and reason bounced right off of her. You laugh, but I bet you know at least a couple people with that same super power.
One day I reached my breaking point. It was bound to happen. She came into work in clothes that probably fit her best thirty pounds ago and the bitching began. My eyes rolled so far up in my head I was sure they would get stuck there. It started out as laughing like a mad woman because all this time spent with this crazy fat bitch had driven me insane.
She looked at me with complete confusion, "Are you okay?"
"I am, but clearly you're not. And I think at this point one of three things is going to have to happen: one of us quits, we never work the same shifts again, or you shut the fuck up about your blubbery body."
"You don't understand, I've tried everything and nothing seems to work. It's so frustrating."
"Ever consider Bulimia?"
"You're kidding right?"
"Not really. You seem to inhale food like a famine is fast approaching. I think you'd get faster results with anorexia, but I feel you lack the discipline required. So binge and purge seems like the best viable option."
Then the most beautiful thing happened, silence. She stood there speechless as I smirked and walked away. It probably wasn't a coincidence that about a week later Simone ending up quitting. Some lame story about needing to focus on her school work. This is just another example of my zero bullshit tolerance and how I like to get shit done.
P.S.
I know you thought I was done, but this whole experience reminded me of something else. There is an entire fashion industry out there that makes clothes to suit every body type you can think of from skeletore to shamu, yet why do countless women shimmy their flabby selves into clothes meant for runway models? Do not wear a bikini if you have more rolls than a bakery. Just say no to spandex, Lycra, and anything form fitting if you don't take care to make your form fit. booty shorts for those that have no booty is just plain sad. And under no circumstances does the public need to see your thong above your jeans. Before you dress take into consideration that other people have to look at you.
115 N Holmes Street: Shattered
***Daphne's perspective***
The other day Daphne was helping Mike move some boxes from the basement into the attic when it happened. A box got knocked over and a framed photo spilled out onto the floor. She reached down to pick it up. The glass was shattered over the smiling faces of the bride and groom. How fitting that art imitates life. A single tear slowly traveled down her face landing onto the photo.
Mike entered the basement ready to grab the next set of boxes. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Daphne. "Is everything okay?" His face showed genuine concern, but the tone of his voice reflected confusion. You only had to know Mike for about five minutes to realize he wasn't the cuddly feely emotional type.
Resounded to keep things professional between the two of them Daphne nodded her head. "We only have a few more boxes to move. Like you said, this basement isn't going to waterproof itself."
Maintain distance from all those around you. That's the best way to avoid getting hurt again because when you let down that guard and allow someone access to your most vulnerable self they have the ability to destroy you. Daphne hadn't always felt this way, but the divorce hardened her. And although she had opened her home to complete strangers she refused to open her heart to them. This was a business arrangement, not a family and not even a friendship.
As she carried the box with the shattered frame up to the attic her mind began to wonder to that place of uncertainty. People asked her if she saw it coming, if she knew how unhappy Aaron was. Looking back she could now see all the little signs that she had been too ignorant to pay attention to at the time. He preferred spending Saturday nights with his poker buddies than with her. Their sex life had seriously dwindled over the last year of marriage. When they were home together, they both preferred to hang out on their own. Maybe in retrospect these weren't such little signs after all.
But whose fault was it, Aaron for being so distant or Daphne for pushing him away? The truth probably was that the fault lay somewhere in between. No one is 100% innocent 100% of the time. And if Daphne was going to move past all this hurt she needed to pull away from the victim mentality that was so easy to fall into. She had to take a long hard look at herself to see how she had contributed to everything that had happened. The warm loving man she married didn't turn cold overnight and without reason. There is always a reason even if it's too painful to admit.
As the life she knew shattered she began to pull away from everyone around her. She just got so sick of having that same damn conversation over and over again; the one where people ask her how she's doing, what happened, will she be okay. Why did this divorce suddenly become the sole definition of who she was? Daphne was still a homeowner, college graduate, and successful career woman. Had this one event nullified everything else? Somehow she doubted the same was true for Aaron. The beauty of gender double standards strikes again.
The only contact she had with the man she had shared herself with in every way was through lawyers. If anyone had predicted this on her wedding day she would have never believed them. Daphne looked down at the bride smiling back at her in the photo. She shook her head while whispering "stupid bitch". If only she could go back to stop that first domino from falling.
Since time travel wasn't an option, she needed to pick up her life and move on from all this. Of course saying and doing are two entirely different things. She wanted to trust again, eventually she even wanted to date again. As far as love that seemed like a concept as foreign to her as space exploration.
The other day Daphne was helping Mike move some boxes from the basement into the attic when it happened. A box got knocked over and a framed photo spilled out onto the floor. She reached down to pick it up. The glass was shattered over the smiling faces of the bride and groom. How fitting that art imitates life. A single tear slowly traveled down her face landing onto the photo.
Mike entered the basement ready to grab the next set of boxes. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Daphne. "Is everything okay?" His face showed genuine concern, but the tone of his voice reflected confusion. You only had to know Mike for about five minutes to realize he wasn't the cuddly feely emotional type.
Resounded to keep things professional between the two of them Daphne nodded her head. "We only have a few more boxes to move. Like you said, this basement isn't going to waterproof itself."
Maintain distance from all those around you. That's the best way to avoid getting hurt again because when you let down that guard and allow someone access to your most vulnerable self they have the ability to destroy you. Daphne hadn't always felt this way, but the divorce hardened her. And although she had opened her home to complete strangers she refused to open her heart to them. This was a business arrangement, not a family and not even a friendship.
As she carried the box with the shattered frame up to the attic her mind began to wonder to that place of uncertainty. People asked her if she saw it coming, if she knew how unhappy Aaron was. Looking back she could now see all the little signs that she had been too ignorant to pay attention to at the time. He preferred spending Saturday nights with his poker buddies than with her. Their sex life had seriously dwindled over the last year of marriage. When they were home together, they both preferred to hang out on their own. Maybe in retrospect these weren't such little signs after all.
But whose fault was it, Aaron for being so distant or Daphne for pushing him away? The truth probably was that the fault lay somewhere in between. No one is 100% innocent 100% of the time. And if Daphne was going to move past all this hurt she needed to pull away from the victim mentality that was so easy to fall into. She had to take a long hard look at herself to see how she had contributed to everything that had happened. The warm loving man she married didn't turn cold overnight and without reason. There is always a reason even if it's too painful to admit.
As the life she knew shattered she began to pull away from everyone around her. She just got so sick of having that same damn conversation over and over again; the one where people ask her how she's doing, what happened, will she be okay. Why did this divorce suddenly become the sole definition of who she was? Daphne was still a homeowner, college graduate, and successful career woman. Had this one event nullified everything else? Somehow she doubted the same was true for Aaron. The beauty of gender double standards strikes again.
The only contact she had with the man she had shared herself with in every way was through lawyers. If anyone had predicted this on her wedding day she would have never believed them. Daphne looked down at the bride smiling back at her in the photo. She shook her head while whispering "stupid bitch". If only she could go back to stop that first domino from falling.
Since time travel wasn't an option, she needed to pick up her life and move on from all this. Of course saying and doing are two entirely different things. She wanted to trust again, eventually she even wanted to date again. As far as love that seemed like a concept as foreign to her as space exploration.
115 N Holmes Street: Fly and Float
This is from Louwin's perspective
Although she never won any popularity contests, Louwin was not accustomed to anyone outwardly or openly disliking her. This was especially an incredible achievement in high school when you created enemies by unknowingly wearing the wrong brand of jeans. Her secret to success was two fold: fly under the radar and float amongst the different social groups. Avoiding drama, controversy, and anything even remotely competitive seemed to always work in her favor. She was 100% certified non-threatening.
In theory what worked in high school should work at least on some level in college. There are these horror stories about college roommates, but Louwin didn't really have that issue. She kept to herself, which wasn't always easy, but in order to survive college life you need to not sweat the small stuff. The roomies that ate her food or had random hook-ups with strangers while she was sleeping in the next bed never really fazed Louwin. Obviously there were times she got annoyed or frustrated, but if you fight every little battle then you'll never get out alive.
Don't think she didn't have back bone because she did and still does. Enter Mike. For some unknown reason he took an immediate disliking to Louwin. Normally she wouldn't give a crap, but this was her housemate/resident handyman. Additionally there was already a pre-extablished harmony between him, Maggie, and Daphne. Louwin wasn't sure exactly how she fit into the mix.
The day she moved in he helped carry her stuff up to her room. This wasn't a kind gesture, more a strong prodding by Maggie. Like a child forced to do the chore he hates most Mike huffed, puffed, and grimaced the entire time. Louwin felt like some sort of ridiculous beauty pageant queen with all the smiling she kept flashing at him. She even tried the usual getting to know you tactics which were all rebuffed.
With an awkward smile she asked, "Did you grow up around here?"
"Hand me the wrench."
As she passed it to him their hands briefly touched. Louwin got caught up watching the muscles in his strong arms move as he assembled her bed. Sweat drops stuck to his short blond hair. Then she realized he had been saying something to her. In an aggravated tone, "Hello? Four year degree and you can't tell a hammer from a screwdriver?"
"Huh?"
"Exactly. I just asked you to hand me a screwdriver and you gave me a hammer. This isn't rocket science kid." He rolled his turquoise eyes.
Why does a guy think because he's incredibly hot that he has the license to act like a complete duesch bag? And what's with the condescending "kid" comment? He couldn't have been more than two or three years older than her. Maybe it was years of avoiding confrontation and just looking the other way, but Louwin felt the need to put him in his place.
"Don't talk to me like that."
"Actually PHD, I can talk to you any way I want since I'm the one doing you a favor. And from the looks of you I highly doubt you could do this on your own."
"How do you know?"
He dropped the screwdriver, stood up, and motioned to the bed. "Be my guest Alpha Betta Kappa."
"Do you have a problem with me because I am college educated?"
Mike walked out of the room without saying another word. Is it wrong that she wanted to punch him in the face and squeeze his firm ass at the same time? It's true good looking criminals are far more likely to get acquitted or at least that's what research supposedly says. Louwin sighed as she stared at her partially assembled bed. Her intelligence completely relied in the academic world therefore she had no clue how to build things. She took her mattress that was propped up on the wall and pushed it down onto the floor. This will have to do for now.
At "family dinner" that night she found herself sitting across from Mike. Apparently everyone already had their assigned seats after months of dining together. Louwin decided to do her fly and float method while observing her three housemates. Although Mike was far from a social butterfly he was friendly towards Maggie and Daphne. There were even a few times he cracked a smile. Louwin couldn't help notice that his smile was one of the cute boyish grins kinds. Damnit, why was she so attracted to him?!
She wondered if Mike and Daphne were sleeping together. Why not? Maybe it's the fact that she had watched too many incestuous TV shows like Melrose Place where everyone slept with everyone. Louwin discounted Maggie from the equation for obvious reasons, that was just gross. Well either way this was an older house with thin walls and creaky floors, if something was going on surely Louwin would find out soon enough.
Maggie touched Louwin's arm, "Everything okay sweetie?"
"Yeah, sorry. I guess I was just lost in thought." I smirked.
Mike snickered. I looked right at him, "What?"
He shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing. If you'll excuse me ladies, the basement isn't going to waterproof itself."
She knew better than to get obsessive over something so trivial, but why didn't he like her? She was easy going, friendly, and considerate. Isn't that a recipe for at least some basic level camaraderie? Well there's always an exception and that exception must be Mike.
Although she never won any popularity contests, Louwin was not accustomed to anyone outwardly or openly disliking her. This was especially an incredible achievement in high school when you created enemies by unknowingly wearing the wrong brand of jeans. Her secret to success was two fold: fly under the radar and float amongst the different social groups. Avoiding drama, controversy, and anything even remotely competitive seemed to always work in her favor. She was 100% certified non-threatening.
In theory what worked in high school should work at least on some level in college. There are these horror stories about college roommates, but Louwin didn't really have that issue. She kept to herself, which wasn't always easy, but in order to survive college life you need to not sweat the small stuff. The roomies that ate her food or had random hook-ups with strangers while she was sleeping in the next bed never really fazed Louwin. Obviously there were times she got annoyed or frustrated, but if you fight every little battle then you'll never get out alive.
Don't think she didn't have back bone because she did and still does. Enter Mike. For some unknown reason he took an immediate disliking to Louwin. Normally she wouldn't give a crap, but this was her housemate/resident handyman. Additionally there was already a pre-extablished harmony between him, Maggie, and Daphne. Louwin wasn't sure exactly how she fit into the mix.
The day she moved in he helped carry her stuff up to her room. This wasn't a kind gesture, more a strong prodding by Maggie. Like a child forced to do the chore he hates most Mike huffed, puffed, and grimaced the entire time. Louwin felt like some sort of ridiculous beauty pageant queen with all the smiling she kept flashing at him. She even tried the usual getting to know you tactics which were all rebuffed.
With an awkward smile she asked, "Did you grow up around here?"
"Hand me the wrench."
As she passed it to him their hands briefly touched. Louwin got caught up watching the muscles in his strong arms move as he assembled her bed. Sweat drops stuck to his short blond hair. Then she realized he had been saying something to her. In an aggravated tone, "Hello? Four year degree and you can't tell a hammer from a screwdriver?"
"Huh?"
"Exactly. I just asked you to hand me a screwdriver and you gave me a hammer. This isn't rocket science kid." He rolled his turquoise eyes.
Why does a guy think because he's incredibly hot that he has the license to act like a complete duesch bag? And what's with the condescending "kid" comment? He couldn't have been more than two or three years older than her. Maybe it was years of avoiding confrontation and just looking the other way, but Louwin felt the need to put him in his place.
"Don't talk to me like that."
"Actually PHD, I can talk to you any way I want since I'm the one doing you a favor. And from the looks of you I highly doubt you could do this on your own."
"How do you know?"
He dropped the screwdriver, stood up, and motioned to the bed. "Be my guest Alpha Betta Kappa."
"Do you have a problem with me because I am college educated?"
Mike walked out of the room without saying another word. Is it wrong that she wanted to punch him in the face and squeeze his firm ass at the same time? It's true good looking criminals are far more likely to get acquitted or at least that's what research supposedly says. Louwin sighed as she stared at her partially assembled bed. Her intelligence completely relied in the academic world therefore she had no clue how to build things. She took her mattress that was propped up on the wall and pushed it down onto the floor. This will have to do for now.
At "family dinner" that night she found herself sitting across from Mike. Apparently everyone already had their assigned seats after months of dining together. Louwin decided to do her fly and float method while observing her three housemates. Although Mike was far from a social butterfly he was friendly towards Maggie and Daphne. There were even a few times he cracked a smile. Louwin couldn't help notice that his smile was one of the cute boyish grins kinds. Damnit, why was she so attracted to him?!
She wondered if Mike and Daphne were sleeping together. Why not? Maybe it's the fact that she had watched too many incestuous TV shows like Melrose Place where everyone slept with everyone. Louwin discounted Maggie from the equation for obvious reasons, that was just gross. Well either way this was an older house with thin walls and creaky floors, if something was going on surely Louwin would find out soon enough.
Maggie touched Louwin's arm, "Everything okay sweetie?"
"Yeah, sorry. I guess I was just lost in thought." I smirked.
Mike snickered. I looked right at him, "What?"
He shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing. If you'll excuse me ladies, the basement isn't going to waterproof itself."
She knew better than to get obsessive over something so trivial, but why didn't he like her? She was easy going, friendly, and considerate. Isn't that a recipe for at least some basic level camaraderie? Well there's always an exception and that exception must be Mike.
The non pity party party
This will be short and sweet. After nearly three months on both www.match.com and www.eharmony.com I have yet to get even one date! Forget a date, I haven't even gotten a phone call from a guy. To add salt to the wound I keep hearing on a fairly regular basis from other people all these "success stories" from people who have met on these sites.
My profiles get plenty of views, but very little interest. All the guys that do show interest with me are too old, live too far away, and are completely unattractive to me. And I have approached dozens of guys who once again look at my profile and never respond to my advances.
After several emails and text exchanges I got my hopes up with John, but he kept pushing off meeting face to face and refused to talk on the phone. So I have to doubt the sincerity of his interest.
Obviously it's me. I can't blame the two hundred guys that have viewed my profile and decided to take a pass. So yeah my confidence is deflated. Although friends and family telling me I'm an amazing catch is nice to hear, I have to wonder the validity of it when not one guy that I have shown an interest in seems to feel the same way. (once again we're talking about dozens)
I put myself out there and got rejected. The worst part is I paid more money than I could afford for this rejection. At least in High School it got given to me on a daily basis for free.
I'm seriously wondering what the point is anymore. I tried waiting around. I tried putting myself out there. Same results either way. Maybe I should just give up altogether.
My profiles get plenty of views, but very little interest. All the guys that do show interest with me are too old, live too far away, and are completely unattractive to me. And I have approached dozens of guys who once again look at my profile and never respond to my advances.
After several emails and text exchanges I got my hopes up with John, but he kept pushing off meeting face to face and refused to talk on the phone. So I have to doubt the sincerity of his interest.
Obviously it's me. I can't blame the two hundred guys that have viewed my profile and decided to take a pass. So yeah my confidence is deflated. Although friends and family telling me I'm an amazing catch is nice to hear, I have to wonder the validity of it when not one guy that I have shown an interest in seems to feel the same way. (once again we're talking about dozens)
I put myself out there and got rejected. The worst part is I paid more money than I could afford for this rejection. At least in High School it got given to me on a daily basis for free.
I'm seriously wondering what the point is anymore. I tried waiting around. I tried putting myself out there. Same results either way. Maybe I should just give up altogether.
Thanks, but no thanks
I have often wondered if any of the guys I used to be involved with think of me from time to time. It's more a hope that they have happy thoughts about me and the good times we shared as oppose to "Laura that evil wench!" Even the worst dating experiences had some glimmer of positive that have managed to bring a smile to my face.
Well my question was finally answered last night. This guy I dated last spring messaged me on match.com:
So I was trimming my rose bush (great that the former owner of my home was probably a gardener)...and saw RED BUDS! This winter is so odd.
How are you today? Is this add current? I did really like you and I'm not afraid to say it.
Sounds like a sweet email right? The problem is there was no apology for the horrible way he treated me. I guess he IS afraid to admit he was wrong. I felt the best response to his email was no response, but I still needed to get some things off my chest so obviously I'm going to blog about it. In no particular order here are the reasons I would NEVER EVER date him again. (Some of these will sound familiar as I have blogged about him a couple times before)
1. He said "all religions are bullshit and I was a fuckin idiot for believing in one."
2. He bragged about being the "Village Whore", his words and not mine. Said he stopped counting how many women he had been with after forty. He also bragged and found it funny that he had had sex with at least three of my co-workers.
3. He wants to have multiple sexual partners at the same time, not use condoms, and expects all women he's hooking up with to not hook up with anyone else. To mark his territory he left giant bruises all over my chest. I don't believe in multiple partners at the same time so this action was not only painful, but completely unnecessary. He told me a story about a girl he "cut off" because he caught her with another guy. Some key points here are that they weren't in an exclusive relationship and he was hooking up with several other women while he was dating her. I think this was more his pride was hurt that she wasn't sitting around home waiting around for him.
4. The one and only time I came over to his house he was peeing in the front yard just because he felt like it. His house was only ten feet behind him. And yes he did have a fully functioning toilet inside, he just preferred to use his yard. An unpleasant image comes to mind of him taking a dump in his yard too.
5. He brags about being a home owner, but takes no pride in the upkeep of his home. The place had no furniture and was grimy. During a sleep over we stayed on the floor sharing a stained pillow with no case and a blanket his rabbits used as a chew toy. Boy he knew how to make a girl feel special!
6. Complete arrogance. He would spend hours talking about how he's so much smarter than his professor and that's why he should be teaching the class. Or that he wanted to adopt a teenage boy, teach him all he knows about life, and then send him on his way to conquer the world.
7. He made fun of a serious medical condition I have. I don't need to elaborate here. It was a dick thing to do.
8. One day I had worked a nine hour shift, held a book club meeting, and ran a Girl Scout meeting. By the time we got together later that night I was so exhausted I could barely stand up straight. However I accompanied him on an errand to go get his medicine. Afterwards I just wanted to go home and lay down. He asked me if we could hit up a bar to enter a contest for free concert tickets. I told him I was too tired. He called me selfish.
9. I consider myself a fairly liberal person especially when it comes to things like occasionally smoking pot. He was a bit excessive though needing to smoke pot about half a dozen times a day including while driving. Bonus points: he has severe asthma.
10. I don't own a home, I rent an apartment, but I take great pride in how it looks. He was the first person to walk into my home and NOT compliment the effort I put into the decor. Instead, you guessed it, he made fun of it and called me materialistic.
11. Classic example of a guy who has watched way too much porn. 9/10 women do NOT like getting sprayed in the face with a guys load. 9/10 women do NOT like their furniture and expensive bedspread getting sprayed either. But if a guy insists on doing it he should A. ask the woman if it's okay before he does it AND B. offer to clean up the mess afterwards. Obviously he just assumed I would like it as much as him and when I complained about the mess he just made fun of me.
12. We all have our "things", but his was just plain weird. I am personally not a fan of feet, but he takes his dislike to a whole other level. My feet needed to have socks on them at all times no matter what. He even said that if we ever went to the beach together I would need to wear socks too. Once we were both reaching the point of climax when he noticed I was barefoot. He pulled out immediately and ordered me to put on some socks. Wow, there are no words...
13. Maybe it's all the pot he smoked, but this guy was a bit delusional. He told me a story about a date he went on with a girl a while back. She was clearly not interested in him and ditched him somewhere between the restaurant and the club they were supposed to go to. He told her to "lose his number". What made him think she was ever planning on calling him again? This was some pathetic attempt to make sure he came out as the one who walked away. Also he claimed she must have not liked him beacuse he was short. I am sure it had nothing to do with his arrogance, disregard for other people's feelings, or strong desire to put down people that think/act differently from him.
14. The biggest affront would be the nasty email he sent me on Facebook. I ended things with him after only a week of "dating". He continually sent me texts asking me to hook up with him. I will admit I gave in once, but then made it clear NEVER again when immediatly after sex he started making fun of me: religion, medical condition, materialism. He even texted me while he was on a date with another girl to tell me "I bet she can't fuck like you." How am I supposed to feel about that?
A few weeks after I ended things with him there was a misunderstanding between myself and a mutual friend of his that did not involve him in ANY way what so-ever. Yet he insisted on sending me this long nasty email about seeing me for who I am and my true colors. When the issue was resolved I responded to his email to tell him it was all a big misunderstanding. He sent another nasty email about the kind of person I really was. And that he was "disconnecting" me from his life.
I guess I'm a bit confused. Didn't I already "disconnect" him when I ended things after only a week and continually rejected his sexual advances? This is clearly a fragile male pride issue. Please see #13, this must be a pattern of his.
So I am sure you can imagine my surprise when he emailed me that he really liked me. He never even took the time to get to know me since his #1 priority was having as much sex with me as possible. I remember asking him if we could skip on the sex and just hang out getting to know each other....he responded "What's the point?" And the little bits of me he did learn about he made fun of. But now on match.com he's listed me as one of his favorites, hit the "like" button on some of my pictures, and emailed me that he's not afraid to admit he really liked me. Whatever!
Well my question was finally answered last night. This guy I dated last spring messaged me on match.com:
So I was trimming my rose bush (great that the former owner of my home was probably a gardener)...and saw RED BUDS! This winter is so odd.
How are you today? Is this add current? I did really like you and I'm not afraid to say it.
Sounds like a sweet email right? The problem is there was no apology for the horrible way he treated me. I guess he IS afraid to admit he was wrong. I felt the best response to his email was no response, but I still needed to get some things off my chest so obviously I'm going to blog about it. In no particular order here are the reasons I would NEVER EVER date him again. (Some of these will sound familiar as I have blogged about him a couple times before)
1. He said "all religions are bullshit and I was a fuckin idiot for believing in one."
2. He bragged about being the "Village Whore", his words and not mine. Said he stopped counting how many women he had been with after forty. He also bragged and found it funny that he had had sex with at least three of my co-workers.
3. He wants to have multiple sexual partners at the same time, not use condoms, and expects all women he's hooking up with to not hook up with anyone else. To mark his territory he left giant bruises all over my chest. I don't believe in multiple partners at the same time so this action was not only painful, but completely unnecessary. He told me a story about a girl he "cut off" because he caught her with another guy. Some key points here are that they weren't in an exclusive relationship and he was hooking up with several other women while he was dating her. I think this was more his pride was hurt that she wasn't sitting around home waiting around for him.
4. The one and only time I came over to his house he was peeing in the front yard just because he felt like it. His house was only ten feet behind him. And yes he did have a fully functioning toilet inside, he just preferred to use his yard. An unpleasant image comes to mind of him taking a dump in his yard too.
5. He brags about being a home owner, but takes no pride in the upkeep of his home. The place had no furniture and was grimy. During a sleep over we stayed on the floor sharing a stained pillow with no case and a blanket his rabbits used as a chew toy. Boy he knew how to make a girl feel special!
6. Complete arrogance. He would spend hours talking about how he's so much smarter than his professor and that's why he should be teaching the class. Or that he wanted to adopt a teenage boy, teach him all he knows about life, and then send him on his way to conquer the world.
7. He made fun of a serious medical condition I have. I don't need to elaborate here. It was a dick thing to do.
8. One day I had worked a nine hour shift, held a book club meeting, and ran a Girl Scout meeting. By the time we got together later that night I was so exhausted I could barely stand up straight. However I accompanied him on an errand to go get his medicine. Afterwards I just wanted to go home and lay down. He asked me if we could hit up a bar to enter a contest for free concert tickets. I told him I was too tired. He called me selfish.
9. I consider myself a fairly liberal person especially when it comes to things like occasionally smoking pot. He was a bit excessive though needing to smoke pot about half a dozen times a day including while driving. Bonus points: he has severe asthma.
10. I don't own a home, I rent an apartment, but I take great pride in how it looks. He was the first person to walk into my home and NOT compliment the effort I put into the decor. Instead, you guessed it, he made fun of it and called me materialistic.
11. Classic example of a guy who has watched way too much porn. 9/10 women do NOT like getting sprayed in the face with a guys load. 9/10 women do NOT like their furniture and expensive bedspread getting sprayed either. But if a guy insists on doing it he should A. ask the woman if it's okay before he does it AND B. offer to clean up the mess afterwards. Obviously he just assumed I would like it as much as him and when I complained about the mess he just made fun of me.
12. We all have our "things", but his was just plain weird. I am personally not a fan of feet, but he takes his dislike to a whole other level. My feet needed to have socks on them at all times no matter what. He even said that if we ever went to the beach together I would need to wear socks too. Once we were both reaching the point of climax when he noticed I was barefoot. He pulled out immediately and ordered me to put on some socks. Wow, there are no words...
13. Maybe it's all the pot he smoked, but this guy was a bit delusional. He told me a story about a date he went on with a girl a while back. She was clearly not interested in him and ditched him somewhere between the restaurant and the club they were supposed to go to. He told her to "lose his number". What made him think she was ever planning on calling him again? This was some pathetic attempt to make sure he came out as the one who walked away. Also he claimed she must have not liked him beacuse he was short. I am sure it had nothing to do with his arrogance, disregard for other people's feelings, or strong desire to put down people that think/act differently from him.
14. The biggest affront would be the nasty email he sent me on Facebook. I ended things with him after only a week of "dating". He continually sent me texts asking me to hook up with him. I will admit I gave in once, but then made it clear NEVER again when immediatly after sex he started making fun of me: religion, medical condition, materialism. He even texted me while he was on a date with another girl to tell me "I bet she can't fuck like you." How am I supposed to feel about that?
A few weeks after I ended things with him there was a misunderstanding between myself and a mutual friend of his that did not involve him in ANY way what so-ever. Yet he insisted on sending me this long nasty email about seeing me for who I am and my true colors. When the issue was resolved I responded to his email to tell him it was all a big misunderstanding. He sent another nasty email about the kind of person I really was. And that he was "disconnecting" me from his life.
I guess I'm a bit confused. Didn't I already "disconnect" him when I ended things after only a week and continually rejected his sexual advances? This is clearly a fragile male pride issue. Please see #13, this must be a pattern of his.
So I am sure you can imagine my surprise when he emailed me that he really liked me. He never even took the time to get to know me since his #1 priority was having as much sex with me as possible. I remember asking him if we could skip on the sex and just hang out getting to know each other....he responded "What's the point?" And the little bits of me he did learn about he made fun of. But now on match.com he's listed me as one of his favorites, hit the "like" button on some of my pictures, and emailed me that he's not afraid to admit he really liked me. Whatever!
115 N Holmes St: Maggie
I was married once, but that was another lifetime ago. He was a beautiful man named Enrico that I met growing up in Spanish Harlem. It was a different culture, a different climate from what kids know today. If a boy liked a girl he asked her out through her parents. Enrico would stop by the house to ask my parents if he could help. It didn't matter what it was: mow the lawn, pick up some groceries, or change a flat tire. What was important was to show my parents he respected them and wanted to earn their respect in return.
After a few months he approached my father to know if he could take me on a date. The rest as they say is history. We married young, barely eighteen years old with big dreams of owning our own beautiful house someday in the suburbs and watching our children play in the yard. It was agreed it would be best to wait until we were both established or at least until we moved out of parents house.
Time, we thought, we had all the time in the world to chase our dreams. We were married only seven months when Enrico was hit by a drunk driver while riding his bicycle home from work. When my mother told me I screamed but no sound came out, I cried but no tears left my eyes. And that day all my dreams died on the street with him. I knew I could never live the life we were supposed to live together on my own. And I definitely could never live that life with another man either.
Time stood still in the darkness of my room as I cocooned myself within my blanket. Maybe it was days, weeks, or months after I lost Enrico that my mom packed my belongings in a large duffel bag and sent me off to live with an Aunt upstate. She sat down on my bed and lovingly stroked my hair while telling me I needed to go find myself. Of course at the time I had no idea what that meant. All I knew for sure was that I was lost somewhere between the girl I used to be and I person that had become a complete stranger to me.
Albany, NY may have well has been a foreign country. It was in some bagel shop called Brueggers that my Aunt explained she would sign me up with the house cleaning agency she worked for. She explained it was decent money for a decent day's work. House cleaning had been one of my chores growing up, so I felt fairly confident this was something I could handle in my fractured state.
I believe it was God himself that brought me to the Watson family, specifically the little boy with big brown eyes named Eric. Not just by name, but also by spirit this boy reminded me so much of my Enrico. Although I had other clients they were my favorite for obvious reasons. After a few months of working as a part time housekeeper/nanny the Watson's asked the agency if I would consider working for them exclusively full time as a live-in. The mom Carla Watson was returning to work and strongly opposed the idea of putting her child into daycare. I agreed.
Maintaining a beautiful home and raising children had been my dream, this was just a slightly different version of it. It wasn't long before the Watson house was filled with three more children. When I had started with them I was still a child myself in many ways but we all grew up together. While the children schooled themselves in math and literature I schooled myself in domestic skills.
When I was a young girl learning to ride my bicycle I remember falling down and skinning my knee. Decades later I can still make out the faint scar although my knee is completely healed by now. This may not make sense but it's the same with my heart. I couldn't tell you a specific day or time when my heart healed because I think it was a slow gradual process. Although I have learned how to open myself up to love again it will never be the kind of love I had with Enrico.
When the youngest Watson child entered high school I knew it was time for me to move on. I'll be the first to admit I am not that Internet or technology savvy, so it was Carla Watson that helped me browse ads on Craigslist. Nothing fancy, just a room somewhere. In my entire sixty-two years I had never lived on my own and didn't have a strong desire to start now.
The Watson's had helped me realize that my place in this world was to take care of others. Daphne was lovely, but what drew me most to her was the sadness behind her eyes. This was a woman that also knew the loss of a dream. She had this big beautiful home all to herself. I felt once again God had brought me to a specific place at a specific time. Daphne was lonely just as I had once been and without the Watson's I could become again. When she offered a reduced rent in exchange for housework and cooking I knew this was exactly where I was meant to start the next part of my journey.
After a few months he approached my father to know if he could take me on a date. The rest as they say is history. We married young, barely eighteen years old with big dreams of owning our own beautiful house someday in the suburbs and watching our children play in the yard. It was agreed it would be best to wait until we were both established or at least until we moved out of parents house.
Time, we thought, we had all the time in the world to chase our dreams. We were married only seven months when Enrico was hit by a drunk driver while riding his bicycle home from work. When my mother told me I screamed but no sound came out, I cried but no tears left my eyes. And that day all my dreams died on the street with him. I knew I could never live the life we were supposed to live together on my own. And I definitely could never live that life with another man either.
Time stood still in the darkness of my room as I cocooned myself within my blanket. Maybe it was days, weeks, or months after I lost Enrico that my mom packed my belongings in a large duffel bag and sent me off to live with an Aunt upstate. She sat down on my bed and lovingly stroked my hair while telling me I needed to go find myself. Of course at the time I had no idea what that meant. All I knew for sure was that I was lost somewhere between the girl I used to be and I person that had become a complete stranger to me.
Albany, NY may have well has been a foreign country. It was in some bagel shop called Brueggers that my Aunt explained she would sign me up with the house cleaning agency she worked for. She explained it was decent money for a decent day's work. House cleaning had been one of my chores growing up, so I felt fairly confident this was something I could handle in my fractured state.
I believe it was God himself that brought me to the Watson family, specifically the little boy with big brown eyes named Eric. Not just by name, but also by spirit this boy reminded me so much of my Enrico. Although I had other clients they were my favorite for obvious reasons. After a few months of working as a part time housekeeper/nanny the Watson's asked the agency if I would consider working for them exclusively full time as a live-in. The mom Carla Watson was returning to work and strongly opposed the idea of putting her child into daycare. I agreed.
Maintaining a beautiful home and raising children had been my dream, this was just a slightly different version of it. It wasn't long before the Watson house was filled with three more children. When I had started with them I was still a child myself in many ways but we all grew up together. While the children schooled themselves in math and literature I schooled myself in domestic skills.
When I was a young girl learning to ride my bicycle I remember falling down and skinning my knee. Decades later I can still make out the faint scar although my knee is completely healed by now. This may not make sense but it's the same with my heart. I couldn't tell you a specific day or time when my heart healed because I think it was a slow gradual process. Although I have learned how to open myself up to love again it will never be the kind of love I had with Enrico.
When the youngest Watson child entered high school I knew it was time for me to move on. I'll be the first to admit I am not that Internet or technology savvy, so it was Carla Watson that helped me browse ads on Craigslist. Nothing fancy, just a room somewhere. In my entire sixty-two years I had never lived on my own and didn't have a strong desire to start now.
The Watson's had helped me realize that my place in this world was to take care of others. Daphne was lovely, but what drew me most to her was the sadness behind her eyes. This was a woman that also knew the loss of a dream. She had this big beautiful home all to herself. I felt once again God had brought me to a specific place at a specific time. Daphne was lonely just as I had once been and without the Watson's I could become again. When she offered a reduced rent in exchange for housework and cooking I knew this was exactly where I was meant to start the next part of my journey.
115 N Holmes Street: Mike
Someone decided to plant the idea in kids heads that life works out like this: graduate High School, go to college, land top notch career, get married, buy huge house, and make lots of babies. In reality not too many people follow this exact path and for those of us that don't we're meant to feel inferior because of it.
My path: graduate high school. Next step unknown. My parents didn't make a lot of money and I didn't see the point in wasting their money and my time going to college. Since early childhood I knew I liked working with my hands. Often I took things apart in order to better understand how they worked and how to put it back together again. No household appliance was safe. And just because I wasn't that scholar athlete doesn't mean I was a delinquent either. It's interesting how a kid needs to fall into one of those two categories. As far as school went I did alright, but when I was done with it I was done.
Work is around if you know where to look and who to ask. Plumbing, electrical, construction...you name it I did it. If I didn't know how I learned real quick. There are quite a few not so pretty scars on my body from some of the more "fun" lessons I learned. But I like to think of myself as built Ford tough. On the job we often compared our battle wounds with one another. Sometimes the guy with the nest scar scored a few free beers after work.
Girls. What hot blooded male didn't prefer the real thing to his own hand? I just wasn't a relationship/romantic kind of guy. On the other other hand I wasn't some scum bag player either. After all I did have a mother, a pretty good one at that, who taught me to respect women. I never lied or manipulated my way into sex. It's important to be clear before anything even gets started what's going to happen; more importantly what isn't going to happen. I will not be your boyfriend, you best friend, the guy you can melt his frozen heart to get to fall in love with you.
Maybe someday it'll happen, but all the people I know that got married and got saddled down with kids long for the life they had before. I'm not ready to have to answer to someone, actually I probably never will want that. If I did do the whole relationship thing it would be so casual I don't even think it could be classified as a relationship. I mind my business, she minds hers, and we hang out when we hang out. End of story.
My freedom is something I value above all else. That's another reason I sub-contract as oppose to signing on with an actual crew. There's something to be said for choosing what jobs you want to work and when you want to work them. Additionally I could charge more for my services since they weren't providing me with benefits. I had taken out a bare minimum health insurance plan just in case I fall off a roof and break multiple bones. Anything aside from that scenario I would consider minor. The time I shot the nail gun through my hand, minor.
To be honest I wasn't planning on renting a room from this lady. I was only there as a favor to Randy who had hooked me up with my last job. But the house was nice; nice meaning lots of projects to do. It hit me though that she was far from a cash cow especially if she was looking to take on roommates. Randy had passed on renting from her because of transportation issues.
My mind went back to my current living situation where I was sharing a three bedroom apartment with four other guys. The place constantly smelt like gym socks. And I had to share my room. It wasn't that I couldn't afford better, but I had been putting money aside for the day I found something of my own. Ideally an old house I could fix up. True this house wasn't my own, but I really liked the idea of having constant projects to work on. And this wasn't just some random job, this was something I could invest myself in because I would be living here.
Daphne, that's her name, showed me the two remaining bedrooms. She explained that the other roommate Maggie, an older Hispanic woman, had claimed the other big room. Maggie would be helping with housework and making dinner for us during the week. I have no idea if Maggie can cook but it has to be better than my Hungry Man frozen dinners. The first room she showed me was small and across the hall from Maggie's. It was odd shaped like a piece straight out of that game Tetris. The other room was equal in size but was also the only access point to the attic. I valued my privacy, so I elected the "Tetris Room".
Living with two woman that weren't related to me would be a first. I do have to say the place smelled and looked far superior to what I had grown used to. My own room even though it was small was my space. I was a guy that didn't need much: a bed and a TV pretty much took care of everything. Sometimes at night I would climb out my window onto the roof and just look up at the stars. It was nice to take some quiet time to myself to think about nothing specific.
The next few months went by pretty uneventfully. Except for being forced to sit down to a "nice family dinner" Monday through Friday, I was mostly left to my own devices. There was plenty to keep me busy too.
My first project was replacing the windows and increasing insulation in the walls. I figured this would greatly decrease the heating/cooling bills as well as increase our comfort levels in the house. Additionally each room got a ceiling fan. I felt the difference within the first week. The money I was spending on supplies was similar to what I would have spent on rent and utilities if I were living on my own. It helped having been in the business since I was eighteen so I knew where to go to get quality product for a fair price.
It wasn't part of the deal but Maggie made me some bag lunch every day whether I was going out for work or sticking around the house. Nothing fancy just a sandwich, a fruit, some chips, and a can of soda. As far as breakfast, I had always been a simple cereal guy. Not the whole grain heart healthy kind, but the sugar packed kids cereals with the cheap prizes at the bottom. My mouth salivates just thinking of all the delicious dinners Maggie makes us: seven layer lasagna, five alarm chili with rice, Shepard's pie, beef empanadas, grilled teriyaki steak skewers, and 101 different ways to make chicken. I had no doubt my mid section was getting a little soft from all this fine dining.
The three of us worked well together. We knew who parked their car where, what time we sat down for dinner, who did what household chores (Of course trash removal, yard work, and killing spiders fell in my domain), and the bathroom schedule which was split between Maggie and me since Daphne had her own. Then the new girl showed up and I couldn't shake this feeling that everything was about to get flipped on it's ass.
My path: graduate high school. Next step unknown. My parents didn't make a lot of money and I didn't see the point in wasting their money and my time going to college. Since early childhood I knew I liked working with my hands. Often I took things apart in order to better understand how they worked and how to put it back together again. No household appliance was safe. And just because I wasn't that scholar athlete doesn't mean I was a delinquent either. It's interesting how a kid needs to fall into one of those two categories. As far as school went I did alright, but when I was done with it I was done.
Work is around if you know where to look and who to ask. Plumbing, electrical, construction...you name it I did it. If I didn't know how I learned real quick. There are quite a few not so pretty scars on my body from some of the more "fun" lessons I learned. But I like to think of myself as built Ford tough. On the job we often compared our battle wounds with one another. Sometimes the guy with the nest scar scored a few free beers after work.
Girls. What hot blooded male didn't prefer the real thing to his own hand? I just wasn't a relationship/romantic kind of guy. On the other other hand I wasn't some scum bag player either. After all I did have a mother, a pretty good one at that, who taught me to respect women. I never lied or manipulated my way into sex. It's important to be clear before anything even gets started what's going to happen; more importantly what isn't going to happen. I will not be your boyfriend, you best friend, the guy you can melt his frozen heart to get to fall in love with you.
Maybe someday it'll happen, but all the people I know that got married and got saddled down with kids long for the life they had before. I'm not ready to have to answer to someone, actually I probably never will want that. If I did do the whole relationship thing it would be so casual I don't even think it could be classified as a relationship. I mind my business, she minds hers, and we hang out when we hang out. End of story.
My freedom is something I value above all else. That's another reason I sub-contract as oppose to signing on with an actual crew. There's something to be said for choosing what jobs you want to work and when you want to work them. Additionally I could charge more for my services since they weren't providing me with benefits. I had taken out a bare minimum health insurance plan just in case I fall off a roof and break multiple bones. Anything aside from that scenario I would consider minor. The time I shot the nail gun through my hand, minor.
To be honest I wasn't planning on renting a room from this lady. I was only there as a favor to Randy who had hooked me up with my last job. But the house was nice; nice meaning lots of projects to do. It hit me though that she was far from a cash cow especially if she was looking to take on roommates. Randy had passed on renting from her because of transportation issues.
My mind went back to my current living situation where I was sharing a three bedroom apartment with four other guys. The place constantly smelt like gym socks. And I had to share my room. It wasn't that I couldn't afford better, but I had been putting money aside for the day I found something of my own. Ideally an old house I could fix up. True this house wasn't my own, but I really liked the idea of having constant projects to work on. And this wasn't just some random job, this was something I could invest myself in because I would be living here.
Daphne, that's her name, showed me the two remaining bedrooms. She explained that the other roommate Maggie, an older Hispanic woman, had claimed the other big room. Maggie would be helping with housework and making dinner for us during the week. I have no idea if Maggie can cook but it has to be better than my Hungry Man frozen dinners. The first room she showed me was small and across the hall from Maggie's. It was odd shaped like a piece straight out of that game Tetris. The other room was equal in size but was also the only access point to the attic. I valued my privacy, so I elected the "Tetris Room".
Living with two woman that weren't related to me would be a first. I do have to say the place smelled and looked far superior to what I had grown used to. My own room even though it was small was my space. I was a guy that didn't need much: a bed and a TV pretty much took care of everything. Sometimes at night I would climb out my window onto the roof and just look up at the stars. It was nice to take some quiet time to myself to think about nothing specific.
The next few months went by pretty uneventfully. Except for being forced to sit down to a "nice family dinner" Monday through Friday, I was mostly left to my own devices. There was plenty to keep me busy too.
My first project was replacing the windows and increasing insulation in the walls. I figured this would greatly decrease the heating/cooling bills as well as increase our comfort levels in the house. Additionally each room got a ceiling fan. I felt the difference within the first week. The money I was spending on supplies was similar to what I would have spent on rent and utilities if I were living on my own. It helped having been in the business since I was eighteen so I knew where to go to get quality product for a fair price.
It wasn't part of the deal but Maggie made me some bag lunch every day whether I was going out for work or sticking around the house. Nothing fancy just a sandwich, a fruit, some chips, and a can of soda. As far as breakfast, I had always been a simple cereal guy. Not the whole grain heart healthy kind, but the sugar packed kids cereals with the cheap prizes at the bottom. My mouth salivates just thinking of all the delicious dinners Maggie makes us: seven layer lasagna, five alarm chili with rice, Shepard's pie, beef empanadas, grilled teriyaki steak skewers, and 101 different ways to make chicken. I had no doubt my mid section was getting a little soft from all this fine dining.
The three of us worked well together. We knew who parked their car where, what time we sat down for dinner, who did what household chores (Of course trash removal, yard work, and killing spiders fell in my domain), and the bathroom schedule which was split between Maggie and me since Daphne had her own. Then the new girl showed up and I couldn't shake this feeling that everything was about to get flipped on it's ass.
115 N Holmes Street: Daphne
Happily Ever After was clearly something that only existed on a fictional level. Love at first sight is really lust. Romance is a game con-artists play. And "til death due you part" really means until one of you gets bored or finds something better. It's all bullshit. Every time I see some lovey dovey couple holding hands, smooching, and staring longingly into each other's eyes it takes every bit of strength in me not to shout "He's probably fucking someone else behind your back. That rash isn't just as rash sweet heart!"
I wasn't always this bitter old cynical hag. Well I'm not that only, only twenty nine. On my next birthday I'll be officially old. Back in the day I was one of those love sick saps, but a failed marriage can bring out the ugly in anyone. Aaron decided after three and a half years I wasn't what he wanted after all. So he left in pursuit of something younger, shinier, thinner, and prettier than what he had discarded.
Four years ago when we were that young couple madly in love we had dreams. We talked about starting a family, at least three kids, and wanted a nice big house to raise them in. Through the Internet, magazines, and open houses we must have seen over 100 houses. Plenty of them were nice enough, I just felt like it wasn't the right one. The rainy Saturday morning we pulled up to 115 N Holmes Street I just knew this was it. I could feel it in every part of my body.
Four bedrooms; two large and two small. Original hardwood floors. Plenty of windows in every room. Open floor plan on the first floor. Original brick fire place in the back room. Full basement and full attic. Half walls with pillars separating the rooms downstairs. Detached two gar garage. No words actually left my lips, it was expressed in a look that told Aaron our seemingly endless search was over.
Fast forward to present day. The house had always been my dream, not his, which was why getting it in the divorce settlement was easy. Thankfully we had managed to put a sizable down payment on the house and Aaron had insisted on sending in extra payments the first few years to get ahead before we started a family. The mortgage on my own would be manageable, but I wouldn't be able to afford much else.
It was a large house. The downstairs was fully furnished. Once again Aaron wanted a fresh start and had zero interest in any of our "crap" as he called it. The upstairs was barren except for my bedroom and private bathroom. The roommate idea made sense to me on two levels: additional income and to repel loneliness. The litter of kids never happened and I guess I should be grateful for that. But now I have the house of my dreams with no one to share it with.
Apprehensively I put a posting up on Craigslist:
Room for rent $600/month which includes all utilities. Full access to rest of house. In charge of own meals. Off street parking. No smokers, no kids, no pets.
Within the first day I had my inbox overflowing with prospective roomies/tenants. Since I was going to be living with this person I wanted to be picky. This is when I learned that life is a series of interviews. Their email response to my ad was interview #1. I managed to narrow it down to ten people I wanted to have phone interviews with. After the calls I had five people I was willing to meet in person at my house. There was no concrete decision at this point as to whether I would have one or two roommates.
If only Aaron knew that his sister Theresa and I were still in contact. More than that, her and I were still friends. She insisted she be present if I was going to allow complete strangers into my home. I almost want to kick myself for not having a videotape for some of the people that came to my house.
Interview #1 Blaire, 26 year old black man. He's a single dad, the kids mostly stay with their moms. (Yes, moms. Five kids, three different moms) He knew the ad said "no kids", but would it be okay if they came to visit on the weekends and some week nights. They most likely wouldn't spend the night and he'd try to keep them from anything breakable or valuable. NEXT!
Interview #2 Casey, 42 year old white woman, seemed nice at first until she admitted she's a recovering addict just trying to get back on her feet. She said it's unfair how many people won't give ex-felons a chance. It's not like her crime was anything violent....she pawned her last landlord's furniture for drug money. NEXT!
Interview #3 Maggie, 57 year old Hispanic woman, cleans houses for a living. For twenty years she was a live-in nanny for a family a few towns over. Unfortunately she doesn't have any family of her own. This is when the bartering idea hit me; cut down the rent to get some services. I asked Maggie if she would mind cooking dinner during the week and doing some light cleaning for a reduced rent? She gladly agreed.
Not that I'm a messy person, but I've never been a fan of house work. So things get dusty and the floor gets a little grimy from time to time. This house is a lot to maintain on my own. And cooking, well let's just say I'm the take-out queen. Some nice home cooking would be just fine by me. I gave Maggie the official tour. She fell in love with the second big bedroom particularly because of the bay window. She told me she loves to cuddle up with a good book.
We agreed she'd move in on the first of the month in two weeks. She gave me security in cash to hold the room for her. When she moved in she would give me the first month's rent. I would have been perfectly happy with just Maggie, but out of curiosity I interviewed the next two people.
Interview #4 Ming, 18 year old Asian female, will be attending school in the fall. She was very sweet and well mannered but my concern was her lack of income. She explained her parents would be paying her rent. I'm just not sure how reliable that is and she was so young. I had to think about who my personality would click with too. I thanked her for coming and politely said I just didn't think we were a good fit.
Interview #5 Randy, 34 year old white male. He worked in construction and brought his friend Mike along. Mike actually drove him there since Randy currently didn't have a means of transportation. He was newly divorced, no kids, and very very good looking. The problem with him living with me was really more of my problem. I was emotionally vulnerable and horny, not a good combination with a sexy single man living under the same roof. Before I could think up some lame excuse Randy beat me to it, he needed to be near a buss line.
Out of nowhere Mike asked me, "Who does the repair work on your home?"
Aaron had said on more than one occasion this house was a money pit. It's true at nearly eighty years old problems just kept arising: leaky basement, outdated plumbing, insulation issues. Since the divorce I had been putting off getting certain things done until my income stabilized.
Roomie/tenant #2 Mike. Twenty six year old white male. Handy man subcontractor. His rent would be free in exchange for him to fix all the things that need fixing.
I wasn't always this bitter old cynical hag. Well I'm not that only, only twenty nine. On my next birthday I'll be officially old. Back in the day I was one of those love sick saps, but a failed marriage can bring out the ugly in anyone. Aaron decided after three and a half years I wasn't what he wanted after all. So he left in pursuit of something younger, shinier, thinner, and prettier than what he had discarded.
Four years ago when we were that young couple madly in love we had dreams. We talked about starting a family, at least three kids, and wanted a nice big house to raise them in. Through the Internet, magazines, and open houses we must have seen over 100 houses. Plenty of them were nice enough, I just felt like it wasn't the right one. The rainy Saturday morning we pulled up to 115 N Holmes Street I just knew this was it. I could feel it in every part of my body.
Four bedrooms; two large and two small. Original hardwood floors. Plenty of windows in every room. Open floor plan on the first floor. Original brick fire place in the back room. Full basement and full attic. Half walls with pillars separating the rooms downstairs. Detached two gar garage. No words actually left my lips, it was expressed in a look that told Aaron our seemingly endless search was over.
Fast forward to present day. The house had always been my dream, not his, which was why getting it in the divorce settlement was easy. Thankfully we had managed to put a sizable down payment on the house and Aaron had insisted on sending in extra payments the first few years to get ahead before we started a family. The mortgage on my own would be manageable, but I wouldn't be able to afford much else.
It was a large house. The downstairs was fully furnished. Once again Aaron wanted a fresh start and had zero interest in any of our "crap" as he called it. The upstairs was barren except for my bedroom and private bathroom. The roommate idea made sense to me on two levels: additional income and to repel loneliness. The litter of kids never happened and I guess I should be grateful for that. But now I have the house of my dreams with no one to share it with.
Apprehensively I put a posting up on Craigslist:
Room for rent $600/month which includes all utilities. Full access to rest of house. In charge of own meals. Off street parking. No smokers, no kids, no pets.
Within the first day I had my inbox overflowing with prospective roomies/tenants. Since I was going to be living with this person I wanted to be picky. This is when I learned that life is a series of interviews. Their email response to my ad was interview #1. I managed to narrow it down to ten people I wanted to have phone interviews with. After the calls I had five people I was willing to meet in person at my house. There was no concrete decision at this point as to whether I would have one or two roommates.
If only Aaron knew that his sister Theresa and I were still in contact. More than that, her and I were still friends. She insisted she be present if I was going to allow complete strangers into my home. I almost want to kick myself for not having a videotape for some of the people that came to my house.
Interview #1 Blaire, 26 year old black man. He's a single dad, the kids mostly stay with their moms. (Yes, moms. Five kids, three different moms) He knew the ad said "no kids", but would it be okay if they came to visit on the weekends and some week nights. They most likely wouldn't spend the night and he'd try to keep them from anything breakable or valuable. NEXT!
Interview #2 Casey, 42 year old white woman, seemed nice at first until she admitted she's a recovering addict just trying to get back on her feet. She said it's unfair how many people won't give ex-felons a chance. It's not like her crime was anything violent....she pawned her last landlord's furniture for drug money. NEXT!
Interview #3 Maggie, 57 year old Hispanic woman, cleans houses for a living. For twenty years she was a live-in nanny for a family a few towns over. Unfortunately she doesn't have any family of her own. This is when the bartering idea hit me; cut down the rent to get some services. I asked Maggie if she would mind cooking dinner during the week and doing some light cleaning for a reduced rent? She gladly agreed.
Not that I'm a messy person, but I've never been a fan of house work. So things get dusty and the floor gets a little grimy from time to time. This house is a lot to maintain on my own. And cooking, well let's just say I'm the take-out queen. Some nice home cooking would be just fine by me. I gave Maggie the official tour. She fell in love with the second big bedroom particularly because of the bay window. She told me she loves to cuddle up with a good book.
We agreed she'd move in on the first of the month in two weeks. She gave me security in cash to hold the room for her. When she moved in she would give me the first month's rent. I would have been perfectly happy with just Maggie, but out of curiosity I interviewed the next two people.
Interview #4 Ming, 18 year old Asian female, will be attending school in the fall. She was very sweet and well mannered but my concern was her lack of income. She explained her parents would be paying her rent. I'm just not sure how reliable that is and she was so young. I had to think about who my personality would click with too. I thanked her for coming and politely said I just didn't think we were a good fit.
Interview #5 Randy, 34 year old white male. He worked in construction and brought his friend Mike along. Mike actually drove him there since Randy currently didn't have a means of transportation. He was newly divorced, no kids, and very very good looking. The problem with him living with me was really more of my problem. I was emotionally vulnerable and horny, not a good combination with a sexy single man living under the same roof. Before I could think up some lame excuse Randy beat me to it, he needed to be near a buss line.
Out of nowhere Mike asked me, "Who does the repair work on your home?"
Aaron had said on more than one occasion this house was a money pit. It's true at nearly eighty years old problems just kept arising: leaky basement, outdated plumbing, insulation issues. Since the divorce I had been putting off getting certain things done until my income stabilized.
Roomie/tenant #2 Mike. Twenty six year old white male. Handy man subcontractor. His rent would be free in exchange for him to fix all the things that need fixing.
115 N Holmes Street: Louwin
During my afternoon nap my muse came to visit. I think she/he was briefly in the Bahamas. I don't know if I'm more pissed that she/he left me on such short notice or that she/he didn't offer to take me along. Anyways here's a new series.
LOUWIN
Options, we all have them during various cross roads in our lives or so that was my theory. You can imagine my disappointment when my parent's college graduation gift consisted of a pat on the back and the words "Good luck kiddo!". Mom explained now that their one and only child had entered adulthood they had decided it was their turn to pursue the life they wanted. After twenty two years of financially and emotionally supporting me they had both retired, sold the house, and were finally taking that trip around the world they had always dreamed of.
I guess I shouldn't be bitter because unlike most people my age I was completely debt free: no student loans, no credit card bills, no car payments. But on the flip side I now had no place to live, no health insurance, and no income. My parents promised that no matter where they were they would call once a week. My cell phone had been paid up until the end of the year.
Sitting behind the wheel of my graduation gift from four years before, my dad's hand me down Honda Civic, thinking how I was there the day he brought this brand new and drove out of the dealership. Dad had even told me on that first drive that some day this car would be mine. I drove to the bank to see just how much monetary hope was left in my account. They had a sign on the front door "Help Wanted." I thought, yeah me too.
Staring down at the application I questioned what qualified me for this teller position. These days a college degree didn't mean quite as much as when my parents had earned theirs. Then I remembered in high school I was the class treasurer. I couldn't come up with fund raising ideas or plan social functions to save my life but balancing accounts seemed easy to me. And you can't beat a banker's hours. I scanned the bank lobby trying to figure out if I could actually see myself working here. It seemed peaceful which was quite a change from hectic dorm life.
A young woman, probably in her early thirties, came out from behind a small cubicle. She was wearing a gray suit, heals, hair pulled back in a low bun, and glasses perched above her nose. It was like she was trying to make herself look older than she was perhaps so she would be taken more seriously. She was making a bee line towards the tellers when she noticed me, "Is someone helping you?"
"Oh no, not yet. I'm just finishing up my application."
No sooner had those words left my mouth then the bank lady reached out her hand for my paperwork. She looked it over while nodding to herself. Then she glanced back over at me, "Do you have a free moment now?"
Sadly my life had been a series of free moments. I awkwardly smiled back at her and stood up to follow her back to her cubicle. She motioned for me to sit down in one of the two chairs on the other side of her desk.
She outstretched her hand, "I am Theresa, the branch service manager. Louwin is it? That is an interesting name."
"Well my mom is Lourdes and my dad is Edwin. They decided to name their one and only child after themselves. I have yet to meet another Louwin in my life which is cool. But I can never find a cute customized trinket with my name on it either. I guess it's a give and take." Why the hell was I rambling? This was my first job interview ever and I was sure I was completely blowing it.
But she laughed. "I appreciate the back story. I have never met a Louwin either. I see on your application that you have no previous job experience which is fine since this is an entry level position. My only major concern is your address."
"My address?"
"Yes, well you listed a home address that is more than two hours away. That would be quite a commute."
I felt my face flush, "I just graduated college last week. I'm sort of in between addresses right now. Thankfully I have two more weeks before I get kicked out of the dorms and become officially homeless. You see my parents sold the house and moved away." There goes that rambling thing again. Strike #2 against Louwin.
Theresa took off her glasses revealing a face far more youthful than she was trying to portray. I thought once a woman hit twenty-five she went through all kinds of desperate attempts to appear younger.
She smiled at me, "I can tell you are nervous. Believe it or not it was not that long ago that I was in your position and someone was kind enough to take a chance on me." She bit her lip, "Listen I have this friend, Daphne Keller, she may have a room for rent. Tell her Theresa sent you."
Theresa handed me her business card with a name, address, and telephone number written on the back. "Thank you." I got up to leave and then realized the main purpose of why I was here. "Did I get the job?"
"See you on Monday. Casual business attire."
Curiosity got the better of me; instead of calling ahead I wanted to do a drive by to see this house that was renting out rooms. If it was in some shady neighborhood I wouldn't even bother. It was a nice spring day. The neighborhood was beautiful. There were kids riding their bicycles in the middle of the street. All the houses were old colonials and no two looked exactly the same. I parked my car a little down the street and walked my way up to 115 N Holmes Street. It was a two story pale yellow house with a small front porch. There was an older Hispanic woman out front sweeping the steps.
She caught my eye, "Buenas Tardes!" She shouted.
Shit, my high school Spanish was a bit rusty. "Hey. Are you Daphne?"
She propped her broom up against the side of the house. "Miss Daphne will be home soon. Would you like some lemonade?" Before I could respond she walked into the house and I was left standing there. Should I stay? Should I go? To avoid being rude I plopped my rear down on the steps awaiting her return.
She came back out and handed me a glass of lemonade. The coolness tickled my lips and trickled down my throat. This situation was so confusing. Daphne was renting out rooms, but she also had a housekeeper?
She sat down next to me and smiled, "I'm Maggie. I rent a room from Miss Daphne. Are you here about a room?"
I shrugged, "Maybe." I didn't want to seem too eager, but if the inside was anything like the outside this was a definite possibility.
Maggie nodded on the direction of the driveway where a car had just pulled into the driveway. "Miss Daphne".
LOUWIN
Options, we all have them during various cross roads in our lives or so that was my theory. You can imagine my disappointment when my parent's college graduation gift consisted of a pat on the back and the words "Good luck kiddo!". Mom explained now that their one and only child had entered adulthood they had decided it was their turn to pursue the life they wanted. After twenty two years of financially and emotionally supporting me they had both retired, sold the house, and were finally taking that trip around the world they had always dreamed of.
I guess I shouldn't be bitter because unlike most people my age I was completely debt free: no student loans, no credit card bills, no car payments. But on the flip side I now had no place to live, no health insurance, and no income. My parents promised that no matter where they were they would call once a week. My cell phone had been paid up until the end of the year.
Sitting behind the wheel of my graduation gift from four years before, my dad's hand me down Honda Civic, thinking how I was there the day he brought this brand new and drove out of the dealership. Dad had even told me on that first drive that some day this car would be mine. I drove to the bank to see just how much monetary hope was left in my account. They had a sign on the front door "Help Wanted." I thought, yeah me too.
Staring down at the application I questioned what qualified me for this teller position. These days a college degree didn't mean quite as much as when my parents had earned theirs. Then I remembered in high school I was the class treasurer. I couldn't come up with fund raising ideas or plan social functions to save my life but balancing accounts seemed easy to me. And you can't beat a banker's hours. I scanned the bank lobby trying to figure out if I could actually see myself working here. It seemed peaceful which was quite a change from hectic dorm life.
A young woman, probably in her early thirties, came out from behind a small cubicle. She was wearing a gray suit, heals, hair pulled back in a low bun, and glasses perched above her nose. It was like she was trying to make herself look older than she was perhaps so she would be taken more seriously. She was making a bee line towards the tellers when she noticed me, "Is someone helping you?"
"Oh no, not yet. I'm just finishing up my application."
No sooner had those words left my mouth then the bank lady reached out her hand for my paperwork. She looked it over while nodding to herself. Then she glanced back over at me, "Do you have a free moment now?"
Sadly my life had been a series of free moments. I awkwardly smiled back at her and stood up to follow her back to her cubicle. She motioned for me to sit down in one of the two chairs on the other side of her desk.
She outstretched her hand, "I am Theresa, the branch service manager. Louwin is it? That is an interesting name."
"Well my mom is Lourdes and my dad is Edwin. They decided to name their one and only child after themselves. I have yet to meet another Louwin in my life which is cool. But I can never find a cute customized trinket with my name on it either. I guess it's a give and take." Why the hell was I rambling? This was my first job interview ever and I was sure I was completely blowing it.
But she laughed. "I appreciate the back story. I have never met a Louwin either. I see on your application that you have no previous job experience which is fine since this is an entry level position. My only major concern is your address."
"My address?"
"Yes, well you listed a home address that is more than two hours away. That would be quite a commute."
I felt my face flush, "I just graduated college last week. I'm sort of in between addresses right now. Thankfully I have two more weeks before I get kicked out of the dorms and become officially homeless. You see my parents sold the house and moved away." There goes that rambling thing again. Strike #2 against Louwin.
Theresa took off her glasses revealing a face far more youthful than she was trying to portray. I thought once a woman hit twenty-five she went through all kinds of desperate attempts to appear younger.
She smiled at me, "I can tell you are nervous. Believe it or not it was not that long ago that I was in your position and someone was kind enough to take a chance on me." She bit her lip, "Listen I have this friend, Daphne Keller, she may have a room for rent. Tell her Theresa sent you."
Theresa handed me her business card with a name, address, and telephone number written on the back. "Thank you." I got up to leave and then realized the main purpose of why I was here. "Did I get the job?"
"See you on Monday. Casual business attire."
Curiosity got the better of me; instead of calling ahead I wanted to do a drive by to see this house that was renting out rooms. If it was in some shady neighborhood I wouldn't even bother. It was a nice spring day. The neighborhood was beautiful. There were kids riding their bicycles in the middle of the street. All the houses were old colonials and no two looked exactly the same. I parked my car a little down the street and walked my way up to 115 N Holmes Street. It was a two story pale yellow house with a small front porch. There was an older Hispanic woman out front sweeping the steps.
She caught my eye, "Buenas Tardes!" She shouted.
Shit, my high school Spanish was a bit rusty. "Hey. Are you Daphne?"
She propped her broom up against the side of the house. "Miss Daphne will be home soon. Would you like some lemonade?" Before I could respond she walked into the house and I was left standing there. Should I stay? Should I go? To avoid being rude I plopped my rear down on the steps awaiting her return.
She came back out and handed me a glass of lemonade. The coolness tickled my lips and trickled down my throat. This situation was so confusing. Daphne was renting out rooms, but she also had a housekeeper?
She sat down next to me and smiled, "I'm Maggie. I rent a room from Miss Daphne. Are you here about a room?"
I shrugged, "Maybe." I didn't want to seem too eager, but if the inside was anything like the outside this was a definite possibility.
Maggie nodded on the direction of the driveway where a car had just pulled into the driveway. "Miss Daphne".
Two Sided Story
Here's a new fictional piece that sprung to mind recently
HER SIDE
It was a typical Wednesday as Melissa drove over to Liam's house after work. They were going have some Subway while streaming a Netflix movie. She appreciated how considerate his choice in meal was since she was currently re-dedicated to weight loss. Each week she posted her progress up on facebook.
The front door would be unlocked since he was expecting her. As soon as she walked in Rufus almost knocked her over. Melissa laughed as she vigorously scratched his big ears. Rufus was Liam's roommate, best friend, and protector all in one. Although he was really just more of a gentle giant. The first time Melissa had met him she had looked up "Mastiff" on Wikipedia and wasn't the least bit surprised to learn it was the largest dog breed. If there was anything bigger it would have to be classified as horse.
Liam shouted, "I'm back here."
Melissa and Rufus walked back to the living room where Liam was setting up their food on the coffee table. She had exciting news and Liam was the first person she wanted to share it with. After only a few bites of her sandwich she could no longer contain herself.
"Pause the movie."
He clicked the remote and looked at her with concern, "Is everything okay?"
A huge smile spread across her face as she explained she got asked on a date. It had been nearly a year since she had last been on a date. Sadly she was starting to doubt her ability to attract the opposite sex. The guy was a casual acquaintance she knew through her book club at work. He was attractive, smart, and an all around nice guy. Melissa thought Liam would be happy for her but she thought wrong.
He cleared his throat, "I thought you were holding out for someone special."
"That's for sex. I don't want to get physical with a guy until I know there are mutual feelings there, but for a date I'll go out with anyone whose nice."
"Oh. So a couple months back when you made out with my friend Gavin at the club you must have had feelings for him."
"Liam, we were both drunk and all we did was kiss. Why are you acting like this?"
"I'm just being honest. So you'll go on a date with anyone, but you withhold sex for true love unless you've been drinking. Then anyone can cop a feel."
Melissa felt the tears well up in her eyes, but she refused to actually cry in front of him. Without saying another word she grabbed her purse and left. As soon as she closed the door to her car the tears came streaming down her face. None of this made sense. Liam was one of her closest friends; he had always been in her corner whenever she needed him. He was even the one who taught her at the ripe age of twenty six how to finally ride a bicycle.
In all the time she had known him she had never witnessed him say even one unkind word about anyone. He was a little cold to Gavin after the drunken make-out incident. But Liam explained he was only being protective of her as he felt his friend took advantage of the situation. Liam is the most gentle, rational, level headed person Melissa knows. Or so she though.
Maybe it's not fair, but unfortunately Melissa has a history of so-called friends and guys she dated getting out of line with her. She made a promise to herself that no matter what she would never let anyone disrespect her again. She was so conflicted. Should one out of character moment destroy an entire friendship?
HIS SIDE
Liam stared at the half eaten sandwich left on his coffee table, then at the empty spot on the couch Melissa had just been moments before. He could kick himself for the way he had acted towards her. The truth was he was 100% certifiably jealous that another guy had taken the opportunity he had been too much of a coward to do himself.
The funny thing is that Melissa thinks that the reason she hasn't been on a date in so long is because the entire male population finds her undesirable. That couldn't be farther from the truth. In reality men are intimidated by her at least Liam was. She was beautiful, voluptuous, smart, funny, and kind. Of course she her her quirks, but who didn't? And while she may have seen her quirks as flaws, Liam felt they were the things that made her so unique.
Liam's heart broke the night that Gavin and Melissa hooked up. He knew it was just some stupid drunken mistake for both of them, but it still hurt being reminded that she wasn't with Liam at least in the way he wanted her to be. And for Gavin Melissa was just another girl.
Tonight Melissa was excited about pursuing something with another guy. This was strike #2 against Liam's failed attempt to make their friendship so much more. Did he honestly expect her to wait around forever until he managed to grow a pair? His jealousy just managed to push the person most important to him further away.
For the next twenty four hours he tried calling/texting/emailing Melissa to beg for her forgiveness. Embarrassingly enough some out their mutual friends even tried to intervene on his behalf. Melissa actually responded to them saying that she just didn't want to get into it. All of Liam's attempts were ignored.
Thursday night Liam decided to try another out of character move and show up unannounced at her apartment. He brought Rufus along for support. Okay maybe this was a little devious since he knew she had a weakness for his furry friend. Liam took a deep breath before knocking on her door. Melissa opened it up standing there in her jammies with her arms folded over her chest.
HER SIDE
It was a typical Wednesday as Melissa drove over to Liam's house after work. They were going have some Subway while streaming a Netflix movie. She appreciated how considerate his choice in meal was since she was currently re-dedicated to weight loss. Each week she posted her progress up on facebook.
The front door would be unlocked since he was expecting her. As soon as she walked in Rufus almost knocked her over. Melissa laughed as she vigorously scratched his big ears. Rufus was Liam's roommate, best friend, and protector all in one. Although he was really just more of a gentle giant. The first time Melissa had met him she had looked up "Mastiff" on Wikipedia and wasn't the least bit surprised to learn it was the largest dog breed. If there was anything bigger it would have to be classified as horse.
Liam shouted, "I'm back here."
Melissa and Rufus walked back to the living room where Liam was setting up their food on the coffee table. She had exciting news and Liam was the first person she wanted to share it with. After only a few bites of her sandwich she could no longer contain herself.
"Pause the movie."
He clicked the remote and looked at her with concern, "Is everything okay?"
A huge smile spread across her face as she explained she got asked on a date. It had been nearly a year since she had last been on a date. Sadly she was starting to doubt her ability to attract the opposite sex. The guy was a casual acquaintance she knew through her book club at work. He was attractive, smart, and an all around nice guy. Melissa thought Liam would be happy for her but she thought wrong.
He cleared his throat, "I thought you were holding out for someone special."
"That's for sex. I don't want to get physical with a guy until I know there are mutual feelings there, but for a date I'll go out with anyone whose nice."
"Oh. So a couple months back when you made out with my friend Gavin at the club you must have had feelings for him."
"Liam, we were both drunk and all we did was kiss. Why are you acting like this?"
"I'm just being honest. So you'll go on a date with anyone, but you withhold sex for true love unless you've been drinking. Then anyone can cop a feel."
Melissa felt the tears well up in her eyes, but she refused to actually cry in front of him. Without saying another word she grabbed her purse and left. As soon as she closed the door to her car the tears came streaming down her face. None of this made sense. Liam was one of her closest friends; he had always been in her corner whenever she needed him. He was even the one who taught her at the ripe age of twenty six how to finally ride a bicycle.
In all the time she had known him she had never witnessed him say even one unkind word about anyone. He was a little cold to Gavin after the drunken make-out incident. But Liam explained he was only being protective of her as he felt his friend took advantage of the situation. Liam is the most gentle, rational, level headed person Melissa knows. Or so she though.
Maybe it's not fair, but unfortunately Melissa has a history of so-called friends and guys she dated getting out of line with her. She made a promise to herself that no matter what she would never let anyone disrespect her again. She was so conflicted. Should one out of character moment destroy an entire friendship?
HIS SIDE
Liam stared at the half eaten sandwich left on his coffee table, then at the empty spot on the couch Melissa had just been moments before. He could kick himself for the way he had acted towards her. The truth was he was 100% certifiably jealous that another guy had taken the opportunity he had been too much of a coward to do himself.
The funny thing is that Melissa thinks that the reason she hasn't been on a date in so long is because the entire male population finds her undesirable. That couldn't be farther from the truth. In reality men are intimidated by her at least Liam was. She was beautiful, voluptuous, smart, funny, and kind. Of course she her her quirks, but who didn't? And while she may have seen her quirks as flaws, Liam felt they were the things that made her so unique.
Liam's heart broke the night that Gavin and Melissa hooked up. He knew it was just some stupid drunken mistake for both of them, but it still hurt being reminded that she wasn't with Liam at least in the way he wanted her to be. And for Gavin Melissa was just another girl.
Tonight Melissa was excited about pursuing something with another guy. This was strike #2 against Liam's failed attempt to make their friendship so much more. Did he honestly expect her to wait around forever until he managed to grow a pair? His jealousy just managed to push the person most important to him further away.
For the next twenty four hours he tried calling/texting/emailing Melissa to beg for her forgiveness. Embarrassingly enough some out their mutual friends even tried to intervene on his behalf. Melissa actually responded to them saying that she just didn't want to get into it. All of Liam's attempts were ignored.
Thursday night Liam decided to try another out of character move and show up unannounced at her apartment. He brought Rufus along for support. Okay maybe this was a little devious since he knew she had a weakness for his furry friend. Liam took a deep breath before knocking on her door. Melissa opened it up standing there in her jammies with her arms folded over her chest.
About Me
- ElbieNy25
- "Scars are proof that we were brave enough to fight the battle and strong enough to survive it"-me 2008 Unfortunately/fortunately I have many scars from life, but I'm still here. I've been writing for over twenty years and just recently finished my first manuscript entitled "The Journey". I love peopl; they fascinate me with their stories, quirks, and mysterious ways.