Saturday, July 7, 2018

I Was An Emotional Prostitute Part 16


I met one fellow at the church I attended. His name was Bob and he seemed nice enough. He took me to a baseball game, then proceeded to explain things to me as if I couldn’t tell what was going on. I said something about it and he told me he liked to explain things. Another time he took me to a local amusement park where he played some of the arcade games. When he won, he chose what he wanted and kept the prizes. I remember being puzzled. After all, wasn’t it normal for a man to win the prize and give it to the lady with him?

            In this case, I believe the relationship ended because of an incident totally unrelated to us as a couple. I was living at mom’s house and one night, a friend of my mom’s and her little girl stopped in for a visit. The little girl became thirsty and we offered her some juice. I went to the fridge to get her some and there were two identical containers containing similar liquids. I knew one was starter for a special cake and the other was juice, but I wasn’t sure which was which. After looking at each container carefully, I chose the one I thought contained the juice. The little girl drank two small glasses and pretty soon we realized she wasn’t quite herself. We quickly realized I must have given her the cake starter by mistake and that it was alcoholic. I was horrified and embarrassed.

Bob came by to take me to evening service at church and agreed to take the little girl and her mom with us, so that we could get her prayed for. As he parked the car, the little girl started singing in a drunken voice and I giggled about it. He snapped at me that it wasn’t funny. That was the last time I heard from him.

            There was George whom I met through a radio call in show. When I met him, I had 3 cats, one male and two female. George didn’t seem to mind my female cats, but every time my male cat got within a few feet, he made karate motions as if he wanted to chop him up. Then one night he called me to apologize for going to a strip club with his friend, something he’d promised me he’d never do. I didn’t really care that he’d gone. What did bother me was the fact that he was crying and sounded drunk. Between that and the way he reacted to my male cat, I got to thinking, “what would happen if George got angry while drunk?”

I broke it off shortly after that. He told me he’d never hurt me and that just made me more sure than ever that he was dangerous since I’d told him I was breaking it off because his mother and I didn’t get along.

I met one fellow over the phone one night when I called his apartment looking for his roommate. Somehow we started talking and discovered that we both like country music. A few days later he called me to say that Wynona Judd and Clint Black were coming to a venue a few hours away, and would I like to go. Of course I would. Wynona is one of my all-time favorite artists. As we got closer to going, he asked if I would drive as my car was more economical than his. Then he said that because he’d bought our tickets for the concert, I could drive over and back, paying for the gas out of my pocket, of course. A few days later, I brought up the fact that we would need to eat something somewhere along the way. He said he’d buy the food if I’d buy the drinks. Turned out his idea of food was cheese and crackers. I couldn’t believe what a cheap jerk he was. I was under the impression that when a man asked a woman out, he picked up the tab, unless they agreed at the start to go Dutch. Not only that, but at the concert he bought himself a program, but didn’t offer to do so for me. If he treats every woman he dates that way, he’ll never marry anyone with any brains.

There were a few men I met through my dry cleaning job. Frank was the first. Towards the end of our relationship he admitted to having used me, but justified it by saying I’d used him too. It took me a long time to figure out that I’d used Frank as an escape from my living situation. I spent the night with him whenever possible, so I wouldn’t have to be at home.

Then there was Brian. Things looked really good at first. He even told me he’d considered making me his. Then he suddenly seemed to drop off the face of the earth. After several months of no contact from him, I went to his place of business one day to give him some information for an event I thought he’d enjoy, plus it was a fund raiser for a good cause, otherwise I wouldn’t have gone. Brian wasn’t there, but his father was. When I told him the purpose of my visit, he told me his son had married and moved to another state. I was pretty surprised. I later realized that he was one of the biggest cowards I’d ever had the misfortune to be involved with.

The most memorable of those men had to be the man who managed his son’s boxing career. His name was “Action Jackson.” He kept asking me out and I kept saying “no.”

The man simply didn’t give up. Twice he came in while I was working at the back of the shop and on each occasion someone else offered to wait on him. Each time he told them he wanted me. The other woman in the shop, Debbie, went so far as to tell me “he was really ‘jonesing’ me.”

I was so embarrassed. My boss encouraged me to go out with him as the man had money, until he realized it was the father who wanted to date me and not the son. I finally agreed to go to breakfast with him one day and somehow it ended up being an all-day date to a local scenic area. By the end of the day, I felt like he’d managed to find all my buttons and make at least one attempt to push them. He especially couldn’t understand why I didn’t immediately trust him. I got so angry that I wanted to hit him. The reason I didn’t is that he told me that he’d rather I hit him than sit there and cry. I figured if my tears were going to make him miserable, I was going to let them flow. So I did.

I did see Action one last time at the shop. By that time I was very pregnant. He told me that he was disappointed that he wasn’t the father. As if I’d let him get that close to me.

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