The best thing about having a blog where absolutely no one reads it is to be able to write about highly personal, embarrassing, and possibly incriminating stuff. I mean, I've never gotten steady readers and I've only had 2 comments - ever - so what's at risk, here?
About 10 years ago, I met a guy at work. At first I thought he was a little dumb, maybe, and didn't pay too much attention to him. But as time went on and we had lunches together and stuff, I began to see that he was actually pretty charming and funny. We started hanging out together a little bit, and I could tell we liked each other.
His situation was bizarre, but plausible. He told me he was separated from his wife and they were getting divorced ('these things take time...'), but that he still lived at home because he couldn't afford to rent an apartment by himself and he wanted to be near his 2 kids: 4 year old girl and 6 year old boy. He said he went to his father's house in a medium East Texas town (about 150 miles from here) on the weekends. He said he'd had a girlfriend there, but the age difference was too great, and they'd split up.
When we started dating, there were several times we went to his house and he did indeed have what looked to be his own room. His wife was never home because she was out with her boyfriend, and the kids were at her sister's. We got motel rooms a lot because I'd just broken up with the boyfriend I was living with, so I moved back home for the time being.
Things progressed and Scott became a permanent fixture in my life. I still didn't like that he would go up to his dad's, but I sometimes went with him if I didn't have plans. I met his father one time and, honestly, he wasn't all that hospitable. Dad's girlfriend was a real bitch, too. He showed me around, pointed out his friends' houses, the club they'd go to, and so on. I never actually met any of the friends, though.
Many times, we'd go up there and we wouldn't stay at his dad's because the girlfriend was there. We'd stay at the motel on the outside of town. They had a bar there, and they had a live cover band play all the time. They were great. They were really into Matchbox 20 and the Goo Goo Dolls, but they also played traditional Cajun and Zydeco. I've seen a lot of live bands, but these guys had real talent. Strange to see them in such a podunk town. But that was our deal - to go see them as often as possible.
I was very active in the Z Club and we had a Christmas party - a really big deal - and he went with me. (sorry the pics are weird - they were in an album and i didn't want to get them out)
My mom really liked him, everyone thought we were good together, we had just about everything in common, and he liked my dog. NOBODY liked my dog. He did. I figured that meant something.
We began talking about moving in together and so I quit my job at the machine shop and began working at a travel agency. I was making pretty damned good money for someone who had no formal education. At that rate, I was going to be able to get an apartment AND that Trans-Am WS6 I'd been looking at! The only downside was that I had to work a half-day on Saturdays.
And that was when it all started going downhill.
Scott would sometimes disappear when I thought he would be at home. There would be hundreds of more miles on his truck than there should have been for someone just driving around town. His stories began to not quite add up about certain things. I noticed he was taking his headache pills an awful lot more than he should have been. He even asked me if I knew where he could get them refilled despite the prescription's instructions. I found blond hairs in his truck. He rear-ended a dump truck (so he said) on the access road of a major freeway here, but I found the ticket he was given, and it happened in ETX, and he didn't rear-end anybody; he hit an open gate.
I knew something was up. (i am brilliant, no?!)
One Friday, our office building had a fire on the upper floors, but they sent everyone home. I got off work at 11am. When I went to surprise Scott at work and take him to lunch, he wasn't there. In fact, he'd taken the whole day off. His boss, who had been my boss for years as well as a good friend, told me he'd been working half-days on Fridays, only in the afternoons. He was confused, as he thought I knew.
It took me a few minutes to put 2 and 2 together, but I finally came up with a plan. I went home, changed clothes, told my parents what was going on, and didn't even try to call him or anything. I went back up to his job. I left my boss my keys and took his little Nissan 240SX. It was a sweet little car - quick - and it was near-black and it would probably be dark by the time I got there. I didn't want him to hear me coming in my Broncosaurus. This was the perfect disguise.
So I drove to the town in ETX, preparing myself for what I was going to find - if anything. I'd only been to his dad's house a handful of times, and he'd only driven me around town once. It was dark and we'd been drinking then, anyway. It was probably a wasted trip, where I'd get no resolution, but I had to catch him.
I went by his dad's, but no one was home. I drove by the club, but his truck wasn't there. I decided to try to find his friends' houses. One I remembered clearly, because it was two houses off a main highway, on a side street - I thought I could remember it if I could see it again. So I found the few highways I thought it could have been, and just drove. The first highway I tried was it. I saw the house, I saw his truck, and I saw the lights on. I was praying - PRAYING - that he'd just be at a kitchen table playing poker with some buddies.
When I walked up the cracked sidewalk to the older mobile home, I could hear music. Oddly enough, it was the song we always considered to be "our song." So I knocked after waiting a few seconds to listen. All I heard was music. Then footsteps across the front room. Then Scott's eyes peering out through the mini-blinds of the front window. Then silence.
The music cut off and I could hear shuffling around and nobody was coming to the door and I so I started banging again and screaming, "Get out here! I know you're in there!"
Eventually an older woman came to the door wearing nothing but a t-shirt. I said, "Where's Scott?" She denied knowing who he was, despite the fact that I pointed at his truck in the driveway. I could hear a ridiculous commotion of shuffling and screeching and thumps in the back somewhere, and then a crash. The woman kept putting me off and buying time. At that point, I saw Scott jump in his truck, start it up, knock down a chain link fence and drive through the neighbor's front yard to get away.
She finally admitted that she knew him, that he'd been there, and she invited me in. We started talking, and I learned an awful lot.
That was the woman he'd been seeing when I met him. He'd never stopped seeing her. He was spending almost every Friday morning with her. He came back to Houston to be with me, but told her he had to go back to be with his kids. She informed me that Scott was not actually divorced and, as far as she knew, there were no plans for it. She was old enough to be my mother...and had a daughter my age in college.
I stayed there for a couple of hours. I'm not going to get into it all, but I learned an awful lot about what I didn't know...
He called and tried to talk his way out of it. He tried to lie and lie and lie. I told him to forget it, that I was going home, and he was free to fuck that old lady all he wanted to.
Apparently, he went back to Houston that evening and went to work and cleared out all of his toolboxes and everything. He didn't even leave a note saying that he was quitting...he just left. He went by his house and took his essentials, and moved out. He moved back to ETX and either moved in with his dad or that old lady.
The next morning, I called Scott's wife. We had a really long talk, too. It ended with us both in tears: me because I felt so guilty, and her because she just couldn't believe her life was in such shambles. She didn't have a boyfriend; she'd been going to the Medical Center on her time off (she was a nurse) because her mother was going through cancer treatment and the prognosis wasn't good.
For several weeks, he kept trying to win me back. He came to my parents' house several times. One time, I called the old lady when he knocked, left the phone off the hook, and let her listen to the whole thing. I mean, there was no way I was going to go back to him, but I sure did like him trying.
And then it was over. He quit calling and coming around until about a year after the fact. I never did answer his calls, though. I never did figure out what he wanted.
Fast forward ten years to last Friday.
I get a message on Facebook saying that this guy wanted to friend me. I thought, "It couldn't be him...right?" So I waited. Eventually he posted one picture and, sure enough...it was him. So I sent him a message about "Wow. You're, like, Person #4 on my list of People I Know I'll Never Hear From Again. What did I do to deserve a message?"
So, instantly, I receive a message with apologies. He said he was so sorry for treating me the way he did and that he knew he caused me a lot of pain and he was so sorry for it. Then he gave me his cell number.
Because I just wouldn't be me if I weren't poking the hornet's nest with a stick, I sent him a text: "You can send Flowers of Apology to..." and gave him my work address.
I went on Facebook, and I saw that I was his only friend and that he'd only just opened an account.
He ended up telling me that he was on a Vette forum and one of the users had all his pics on Facebook. He said he went on there and looked me up and he couldn't believe I was there. He said he'd been looking for me for awhile but couldn't find me, so when he found me on there, he started an account just so he could contact me. I'm not sure I believe that, because if you Google my name, I pop up, like, everywhere.
Whatever. On with the story.
Now, he's sending me texts telling me that if I go up there with him, I wouldn't have to work. That his house is paid for, and he'd give me one of his Vettes. He said he knew me better than anyone and knew I've only gotten better in time. He owns his own business and needs my brains to help him run it. He keeps telling me he misses me. That he's ready to settle down and wants it to be me.
I've thrown out a lot of roadblocks like, "You don't even know me anymore, regardless of what you may think. Ten years changes people." and so forth. He doesn't seem to mind.
I haven't mentioned The Biy because it's sort of immaterial. The Boy has nothing to do with this. I don't want to start up anything with Scott because he's an egotistical, arrogant liar, cheater, and he's Catholic. Nothing against Catholics, it's just that it's not my thing. I tried that once and it didn't work out so well. I don't even know him. Honestly, I never did, if you look at our history. So I think it's ridiculous that he's even talking to me in this manner.
Anyway, every text he sends me gives me a little more insight into his life, although I'm pretty sure the stuff he's telling me is, like, the best of the best. He's shooting his load all at once, here.
Plus, I went to his county's tax assessor website, looked up his property records, then GoogleMapped his house and used the 'street view' feature, and...well...let's just say that even though I don't have land, I'm better off in this house. He also still has that blue Chevy...it was in his carport.
I admit, it would be nice to be a kept woman and drive race cars to the store. It would be nice to not have to work unless I wanted to. It would be nice to see if the sex was as phenomenal now as it was then. But, I mean, really. That's totally not realistic and the guy's a creep!
The Boy and I are in a decent place, I guess. I don't want to leave him, but I don't really want to take any further steps, and he keeps pushing me. He sat me down last night to look at engagement rings online and design one. I could see us getting married in time, but we have problems that need to be worked out (SEXcoughSEX) before I make another potential EXPENSIVE mistake, and I just don't feel like I'm ready yet. I want to have all the good things that come along with marriage, but I know that's the wrong reason to marry someone.
So, if I were ready to turn my life all upside down over somebody, it would be The Boy. Not Scott.
And I still don't have those flowers.
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