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Journal sm62704's Journal: The Sky is Crying 9

Previously:
Fireworks
Fireworks Continued
On The Rebound

"The sky is crying, look at the tears rolling down the street. Ive been looking for my baby and I wonder where can she be?" -Elmore James

I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but my date with Kathy is off. Friday night one of Jim's friends told her that all I wanted from her was sex, and she believed it.

I guess that's a good thing, because she has to be incredibly stupid to believe that. If all I wanted was sex I could get a hooker for less than the price of dinner at D'arcy's. Stupid woman.

It was sort of the last straw, though. I gave my car key to the bartender and got shitfaced drunk, and sat there and cried like a little girl.

The next morning the bar was supposed to open at 8:30. As I was drinking my coffee and waiting for it to open so I could retrieve my key, the phone rang. It was "Kay", one of my hooker friends, and a damned good looking one too, who I hadn't seen in months. She desperately needed a ride.

"Kay" is married to a local politician, a fellow I never met. More stupidity; prostitution should be legal and adultery should be against the law. Serves the bastard right, dumbass damned politicians. I told her my car was at Felber's and it would take a few minutes to retrieve it, and started walking. There were puddles everywhere.

Mike, who owns the place with his wife and daughter, was just opening up when I got there. "Came for you keys?"

"Yep. I'd stick around and talk, but there's another woman that's going to use me. I'll be back later."

"OK, I'll see you."

It rained off and on most of the day.

I drove out to where my friend said she needed a ride from. From what she had told me before (and of course I've only heard one side of the story), her lawyer-politician husband was verbally and physically abusive. They had been separated at one point, and he had gotten custody of their infant when she had taken him to a neighbor's house to use the phone, and the neighbor turned out to be a drug dealer who was arrested the next day. She claims she didn't know the woman dealt dope, but at any rate the authorities, at her husband's behest, took the child.

The two of them later got back together. She'd said she didn't really want to be with the man any more, but she couldn't stand the thought of being away from her child, and feared for the baby's safety at her husband's hands.

She was visibly shaken, and crying. I gave her a hug, and gentleman that I am opened her car door for her. "I lost my baby," she said.

"What?"

"My husband got arrested last night. He hit me and somebody saw it and the cops took him to jail and they took away my baby!"

Anywhere but this crooked town and a politician's arrest for hitting a woman would be in all the papers. But in Illinois where they say "vote early, vote often" and dead people vote, there was nothing about it in the paper this morning. It's likely that her husband paid off the witnesses and that the police swept it under the rug as well, but I don't know.

Linda called. "Where are you?"

"I'm giving a ride to a friend. What's up?"

"I got a ride so I'm at your house, I need to get some of Tami's things for her." She had another errand to attend to and said she'd be by later. I told her to call and make sure I was home.

"I didn't think you'd be gone so early", she said.

"Kay" gave me gas money and we went to my house and drank some coffee while she called around trying to find a place to stay. My "home for wayward women" is closed, and I woudn't want a hooker living with me anyway; I'd likely get in trouble with the law myself, and get my house taken away.

As we drank our coffee, Linda showed up and gathered the things Tami needed. She said she'd call me when she got home.

"Kay" found a freind to stay with, who drove up in front of the house. "Kay" Kissed me and left.

Poor girl. It seems that loser that I am, everbody I know is even worse off.

My daughter had bought me a copy of Passion of the Christ, Definitive Edition (also known as "The Jesus Chainsaw Massace"), so I decided to watch it. When the movie was over I read a litte Restaraunt At The End of the Universe a while, and decided to call Linda to see if she'd forgotten about me and my towels.

She didn't answer the phone. So I called Charlie. She didn't answer, either. But Charlie called back a minute later and said she'd be home in an hour and would call me.

It was quite a bit less than half an hour, because I drove through McDonalds for a burger and fries and salad, and before the burger and fries were done she called again. "I'm here, come on over". I put the salad in the fridge, bagged up the towels and drove over there.

Charlie was livid. "I can't get in the god damned house! That motherfucking bitch!"

"What?"

"Linda's parole officer came the other day and dumped out my purse, and didn't put the keys back in. Now that cocksucking Linda won't answer the fucking phone!"

"Well, hell." I said. "She's not answering when I call either. Let's go get a beer until we can get hold of her."

"I'm gonna kick that bitch's ass!" she said.

Beer at the Blue Grouch is only $3.50 a pitcher on Saturdays, so we went there and I bought us a pitcher. It started raining, hard, thunder rolling and lightning flashing.

Cowboy was there, and asked if I knew Shannon. No, I said. "Shes a lot lizard up on the north end of town. Died last week from a drug overdose. I figured you probably knew her."

Cowboy is a roofer who used to be a trucker. A "lot lizard" is what the truckers call prostitutes, and he knows I know a few.

One of Tami's alien husband's girlfriends had been named Shannon; once Tami had cried on my shoulder about her. She'd found a message on her husband's cell phone from her. I wondered if it was the same girl.

My phone rang - it was Brian, fresh out of rehab and still off the heroin. At least life's not kicking one person I know's ass.

As I was on the phone with him, Charlie's phone rang. A string of obscenities erupted, so I knew Linda had finally returned her call.

"That bitch won't even come over and let me in and it's pouring down rain!" she exclaimed. We finished our beer and she said she wanted to break into the house, so we went back. Charlie broke a back window to get in. I washed my towels and put them in the dryer, and we went back to the Grouch.

"You ought to tell Tami's husband about Brandon", she said.

"I'm not going to do that. Even if I was a vengeful sort I wouldn't. There's collateral damage."

"I would."

"I know you would!"

Her phone rang; someone needed a favor and was picking her up there. She'd call when they were done. I drove to Felber's and handed my key to the bartender and got another pitcher; I was pretty sure I was already pretty close to .08.

Charlie called, I told her I was too drunk to drive and would get the towels the next day. "Tami was in the background when I talked to Linda saying 'fuck Charlie'. So that bitch is on the street; I ain't lettin' her back in the house again."

Sunday morning as I was walking back to retrieve my car, Charlie called. "Can you come over?" she asked. "Sure", I said, "when I get to Felber's and get my car back."

When I got there she was working in the garden, just finishing up. Ralph's little dog was there happily wagging his tail. We all went inside and watched What Women Want. And I had an epiphany. Women get what they want from me, so they don't have to give anything back. That's why assholes get the women and nice guys don't.

When the movie was over we went to a Chinese restaraunt. She bought.

I still have a dinner date at D'arcy's, but now it's with Charlie. But damn it, I'm sick of chasing women. It's not a romantic date; I owe her for the Chinese.

Next: "Lucy Furr" Burns in Hell

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The Sky is Crying

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  • I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but my date with Kathy is off. Friday night one of Jim's friends told her that all I wanted from her was sex, and she believed it.

    Ummm... I thought you did only want her for sex?

    • by sm62704 ( 957197 )

      No, damn it, I want a real girl friend. I want a monogamous relationship, somebody I can laugh with and go to movies with. A partner. Somebody special.

      Yes, I wasnt sex from a girlfriend, but I want a hell of a lot more than just sex.

      • Yes, I wasnt sex from a girlfriend, but I want a hell of a lot more than just sex.

        I always thought all that other stuff was just "shit you tolerate in order to get sex"?

        • by sm62704 ( 957197 )

          If you wind up alone you're really going to miss the "shit you tolerate in order to get sex". The old Paxil Diaries were about searching for sex, which was what I thought was all I wanted from a woman, but once I found it I discovered that it was empty.

          What's the difference between being married and being employed? After ten years your job still sucks.

          • What's the difference between being married and being employed? After ten years your job still sucks.

            Ahhh, so what you're after is oral sex. I'm cool with that.

            • by sm62704 ( 957197 )

              Ahhh, so what you're after is oral sex

              Only when she's on the rag.

              I got to thinking about "shit you tolerate in order to get sex" and came to the conclusion that I must be a lesbian in a man's body!

              • Re: (Score:3, Funny)

                I got to thinking about "shit you tolerate in order to get sex" and came to the conclusion that I must be a lesbian in a man's body!

                I think I saw a porno movie about that once.

  • You just can't catch a break, can you. Makes my WASPy troubles seem pathetic in comparison. Good luck finding some girl that won't use your sorry ass. For now though, I'll enjoy the schadenfreude and add your journal to my RSS feeds.
    • by sm62704 ( 957197 )

      Cool. Although I must point out that I'm a hazel eyed Protestant whose anscestry is Irish (probably why I like beer so much). Tami and Charlie boith have blue eyes, althoug Tami is a former Catholic.

      My WASPy troubles are far less interesting. For example, my kitchen sink is clogged and I'm having a hell of a time getting it unstuck. I was going to do a journal about mowing the lawn once but I got sidetracked and the lawn mowing became a minor part of it.

FORTRAN is not a flower but a weed -- it is hardy, occasionally blooms, and grows in every computer. -- A.J. Perlis

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