Three Score and Two Years Ago

I just couldn't let today go by without mentioning the significance of it. It was thirty two years ago today that I first laid eyes on my darling Dick. I wrote about how we met and my first impressions in the post titled "The Early Daze". If you remember, basically my first impression was that I was not impressed. To recap, we met at his Sr. Prom. I was there with a guy I worked with who was one of his friends. I thought he was cute...I thought I might be interested...for about a minute.Then he did or said something that made me think "what an ass", and that was about it. After that night I never really gave him a second thought. Well, that's not entirely true. My second thought was, "Man, what an ass!" My third was, "He really is quite an ass." So much for going with your gut feelings and first impressions. Over that summer, whenever our mutual friends were getting together and I found out that he was going to be there, many times I would decline the invitation. In August, Labor Day weekend, Dick was having a party at his parents house (yes his parents were there and the drinking age was 18 then). I was informed of the big event but told everyone I wasn't going. Then I was sent a message from Dick through his friend Pugsly. Yes, Pugsly. We all had nicknames back then and Pugsly looked like...Pugsly from the Adams Family. He said "Dick wants you come to his party and he won't take no for an answer." "Really?...That's odd because I would swear he didn't even like me by the they way he always acts like an ass around me. No, I don't think so. I'm not going." I said. "But, you have to!!" Pugsly was almost begging. When I asked him why I had to he told me that the word was, if I didn't show, there would be no party. So for the sake of my friends I relented and agreed to go, but I told Pugsly if Dick starts acting stupid I'm gone. Pugsly told me that he probably would, because Dick liked me...really liked me. He was so nervous around me he couldn't help it. All I could think was...Oh my God, how cute! He likes me? That's so sweet. Ya, I know...now who was acting like an ass? So sue me, I was 18, what did I know. Suddenly everything about Dick was adorable, not weird. He was funny, not odd. He wasn't an ass, he was just nervous. Well, it all made perfect sense to me now. That's why I was drawn to him when we first met at the prom...it was meant to be. We were made for each other. --PARDON ME...WHICH WAY TO THE VOMITORIUM?!?! Teenagers! When will they ever learn? That night I got stinking drunk playing Pass-Out and ended up rolling around on the front lawn making out with Dick. But, the highlight of the evening was when I stepped on a broken bottle. Then I tried to look at the bottom of my foot to see if I had cut it (I had not) but I lost my balance and ended up on my butt in the middle of the street. Dick swooped in to rescue me. As we were walking back to the house I thought...hmmm, I must have sat in a puddle, my pants feel wet. I put my hand around to feel if I was right, and yes, I was wet. The seat of my pants was soaked, but it wasn't water, it was blood. I didn't sit in a puddle, I sat on the broken bottle! I had cut my ass and was bleeding like a stuck pig. That was also the night I got to meet my future mother-in-law, drunk and bleeding all over her bathroom because I sat on a broken bottle. Talk about bad first impressions. When we started dating she must have been so proud of him. Turns out the cut I had received on my butt was very small, apparently deep, but small. And, without going into detail, where it was located a bandage couldn't be applied. The alcohol I had consumed was responsible for the extensive bleeding, making it look a whole lot worse than it actually was. Luckily I had brought my bathing suit so I put the bottoms on inplace of my underwear. I had to stuff them with a lot of toilet paper so I wouldn't bleed through to the pants that someone had loaned me to change into. The next morning I couldn't believe what an ass I had made of myself...the table had turned. I was so embarrassed. I didn't think Dick would ever want anything to do with me, but I was wrong. The first, but certainly not the last time I was wrong about Dick.

Happy Birthday to You....Happy Birthday To You....

...Happy Birthday Dear Lying, Cheating, Home Wrecking, Whore
...Happy Birthday to you.

After the the threat of divorce came to light, things sort of seemed to get a bit better, not by much, but maybe a little. There was even a moment when I thought we might make it, but then I awoke from my dream state when reality smacked me upside the head. I thought there were signs that things were getting better, but the only thing that had gotten better was Dick's ability to cover his tracks. After catching him with Charlot twice I guess he finally realized who he was dealing with or how far I was willing to go in my efforts to know the truth. There wasn't a line I wouldn't cross to figure out what he was doing, where he was going or who he was with. One night in December, I spent 3 hours sitting in my car at the mall staking out his car. He told me he was, get this...shopping...at "DICKS"...a sporting goods store. I didn't believe him, so I went to see for myself. When I got there and saw his car, I still didn't believe he was there so I went into DICKS to look for him. He wasn't there. There were no drinking establishments in the mall anymore so the only other place he might have been was Sears, that was my next stop. No Dick in Sears, no Dick in DICKS...no big surprise. I waited in the car until he showed up. He appeared in the parking lot as if out of thin air. I had been watching the door, he never came out of it, yet suddenly there he was walking towards his car...without a single shopping bag from any store. I was confused for a bit, but then I saw it...her car...little white Volvo 360 licence plate number 69X G86...driving away. Ingenious! I thought. He parks his car here, goes into the mall, she picks him up at another door and off they go. I was almost impressed with his inventiveness. This was something I would have thought of, not him. I didn't think he had it in him. Then it dawned on me...she must have come up with this scenario because I knew he just wasn't that smart. This is an example of the lengths I would go to spoil his fun. Some part of him had to know that no matter where he went or how well he tried to cover his tracks, there was always the chance that I would find out. And still, even knowing that, he just couldn't stay away from her. She must be one hell of a good bartender...nudge,nudge...wink,wink...know-what-I-mean? I never could figure out exactly why he was willing to risk losing half of everything he had by continuing his relationship with her. It was just like his relationship with Bud E. Wiser...he couldn't stop himself, even if he knew he should, he couldn't. It was either an addiction of sorts, or he really didn't think I had the balls to ever divorce him. Whichever it was, it didn't really matter. All it did was make my decision easier in the end.

Okay...back to the reason for the title of this post, Charlot's birthday. Because of my Internet investigating I knew when her birthday was. My thought was that if he didn't see her that night, then maybe, just maybe we had a chance. It was a test of sorts, and Dick failed miserably. It was a Thursday night so off he went to his Karate class. When I returned home at around 9 p.m. Dick was not home. Upon further investigation I noticed the bag he always took with him was not home either. One thing about Dick is when it comes to his personal hygiene habits, he never, ever deviates from the norm. He always came home and showered after Karate before he went out anywhere, even if it was to just hang out at Harry's. This meant that Dick never went to Karate, he just wanted it to look like he did. This also meant that I turned myself around, got back in my car and went to look for him...and her I assumed. After checking out a few of their regular meeting places with no luck, on a whim I went to a restaurant, Robby D's, that I remembered him being at when I was using the GPS tracker. It was just down the street from Charlot's house so I passed by there first. Neither one of their cars were at her house or nearby. But, when I got to Robby D's the first thing I noticed was Charolt's Volvo. I didn't see Dick's car, until I drove around to the other parking lot at the back entrance. I remember how my stomach felt, like it wanted to exit my body any way it could. I started to shake. I couldn't think straight. I parked. I needed to calm down and regain my focus. My body had betrayed me. I thought I was "dealing" quite well with Dick's affair, but apparently I was not. I was so good at hiding my true feelings from those around me that I was even able to hide them from myself. I began questioning myself. Do I really want to go in there and see them together again? If I do I have to be prepared to deal with whatever I see and feel. Am I up for that? Ready or not, off I went. My heart was pounding so hard I could hardly hear anything else. I felt like my head had disconnected from my body and was floating on its own. It was very surreal. I poked my head around the corner at the end of the back entrance hall and there they were, sitting at the bar. They looked like the picture perfect happy couple all smiling and laughing. I wanted to throw up. I turned to leave, got as far as the door and stopped. "NO"...I said to myself..."There is no way that bitch is going to have a happy birthday. Not this year." I walked back into the dinning room to the front of the bar area and came up behind them. They never saw me coming. I positioned myself between the two of them, put an arm around each one and said "Hi guys, what's happening?" Dick said nothing, did nothing, but exhale loudly as in defeat. Charlot on the other hand tried to engage me in conversation. "We're just sittin' here havin' a drink...would you like to join us?" Was she freakin' serious? "We just ordered a pizza, there's plenty." Oh my God, she is serious! "Hmm...ya...thanks, but no." I said, "What I'd really like, though, is for Dick to make up his mind." "About what?" she said. "About you...and me." I answered. She looked confused..."I don't understand." "Well...Its really pretty simple. Dick needs to decide whether he wants to stay married to me or continue screwing around with you." Now she looked appalled, "What?" "And, frankly, at this point I really don't give a shit what he decides, he just needs to make the decision. He can't do both...not any more...'cause I've had enough." "But I told before," she said, "we're just friends." "Ya...with benefits!" I said. "Why do you keep saying that?" she said, faining innocence, "There is nothing going on between us...we just hang out and talk." It was at that moment that I realized she had no idea that he had admitted it to me. He never told her that I knew the truth. He couldn't have or she would persist in being so adamant about their "friendship"...what would be the point? So there he was just sitting there, sipping on his beer, (God forbid anything get in the way of that)not saying a word. He just let her make an ass out of herself trying to convince me of their innocence knowing that I knew she was lying. Poor, stupid woman...you deserve each other I thought to myself. Then she said something about us (Dick and I) needing to talk and that she should go. But, I told her there was no need for her to leave because I was leaving. There was nothing more for Dick and I to talk about. Then I slapped her on the back saying.."Oh, by the way...Happy birthday!" She just stared at me and all she could say was "Uh...thank you." with a strange look on her face. I think it was fear. I know she was wondering how I knew it was her birthday and I know it made her very uneasy. At this point I was afraid of saying anything more because I didn't know if I could continue to control myself. I didn't want to lose it in public and make a scene...or throw up, which I felt like doing the whole time. I probably should have though...nothing says Happy birthday like your boyfriends wife barfing all over you does. That certainly would have made it one she would never forget. But instead I just left. So much for thinking we had a chance.

She's Ba-a-ack!!

Guess who's back...back in town...Betty's back....back around!!
Well, its been over a month I think since I last put pen to paper...or in this case fingers to keyboard. Sorry to have disappeared like that, but I needed to take a step back for a bit and regroup...I was feeling guilty. A little over a month ago I found out that Dick was not well. I felt bad for him. I just couldn't bring myself to continue bad-mouthing him knowing that there was a very good chance that he could have a serious illness. I know...what a saint I am...but the truth is, I was quite upset, and worried for him. Yes he's an ass. Yes, he treated me like crap. And yes, he's a lying, cheating, drunk, son-of-a-bitch. But even so, I loved him once and was married to him for 25 years. I would never wish something like cancer on him. I never wanted to see him suffer in that way. Its not good karma to wish that on anyone. So I tried to be extra nice to him. Let him know that I still cared. He made some crack about if he were to croak before the divorce was final, I'd really make out because then I would get everything. I was slightly horrified that he would think I would actually want that, and I told him so. I said that I would rather have him alive, than have "everything". We were on the phone when I said it and I thought the call had been dropped because there was dead silence on his end. Finally he said..."Really?" He sounded as if he were stunned. "Oh my God...of course 'really'" I said "Are you serious?...I would never wish that on you." Then he said "Even after everything that's happened?" "Yes, of course. Even after everything." I answered. I don't know why I was surprised that he would think I was that kind of person, but I was. So, it just reaffirmed for me how little he knew me. Well guess what? Dick's not dying, so all bets are off. Its open season again for Dick bashing. I can run him up one side and down the other, tear him a new one and bad mouth to my hearts content...and all without an ounce of guilt. In the past, I have been accused of being too nice to him. I have always maintained that I was not being "nice", I was just not being "mean". During the period of time when he was having tests to find out what was wrong with him I did make a conscious effort to be nice to him. Big waste of time. It didn't make a dam bit of difference. He was still an a$$h@!# to me. I don't know why I ever thought him facing his own mortality would somehow change him. He is what he is and will be until the day he breathes his last and settles in for the eternal dirt nap. Dick is Dick. What more is there to say?