Wednesday, August 4, 2010

“Threatened by a Preacher. Redeemed by a Whore.” By Gordon Ison

I joined a social networking site. I guess I'm too old for video games. I had to quit gambling which makes watching sports perfidious to me. At one time I was so rapped up...well, lets just say; in a time when most folks are losing their homes, I some how managed to keep mine.

I live alone. I had a roommate once, an old friend of mine who I managed to find via his mother's phone number which my mother had left in a stack of her belongings before we moved her to a nice retirement village close to my sister and brother in law. Hell, they have the grand kids who come and visit her, I never had kids. Yea, so it was me and my buddy, living together like the Odd Couple, jamming guitars and drinking. After I got my third OUI (or DUI or DWI hell, I can hardly keep track as many times as they changed it) that coupled with the divorce nearly bankrupted me. Even though I have a good job and I'm grateful for it, once I was forced to quit drinking I began to realize what I could have had in my life, as opposed to what I did have and a sullen, inebriated roommate was not going to be one of them.

It was another sad moment when he packed up his things. Last I heard he managed to buy a better house than the one I've got. Must have saved a lot of money staying with me as I really only charged him the minimum rent. Out of friendship. Now we don't even talk to each other anymore.

Like I was saying, I joined a social networking site because after the divorce, she must've took my charm along with everything else I bought for her. The only reason she didn't sue me for the house was because she was leaving me and not the other way around. I was comfortable living with her. I loved her. She was a child when she had her clothes on and I became one the moment she took them off. We'd fight. One time the neighbor called the cops and I had to spend twelve hours in jail. They told me it was going to be twelve, but once the sun came up and the officer shoved a donut through the hole in the door and after I had been "processed", I simply didn't give a damn what time it was and once I was outside I walked all the way home.

Two days later my legs were still so sore I had to call into work. I never call into work. Up until then I hadn't missed a day only after that night, things between me and her would never be the same. Yea, I know, you've heard it all before. It's a familiar story, yet how it played out left me feeling empty and sick. Sick to the stomach like a gut shot dog. It was around this time I got my buddy to move out of his miserable apartment and in with me. That way we could both be miserable. That last sentence was meant to be a joke.

"Alone Again, Naturally." by Gilbert O'Sullivan became my go to song, as I cleaned the place up. Yea, sure I could've used some funk or maybe some real good old rock and roll, but suddenly I became enthralled in buying these cheap c.d.'s at the Wall to Wall store. There were a whole series of them and they contained a lot of songs I hadn't heard in a while. Why it was in the easy listening section I'll never know, but it helped me during my time alone. When I knew I could no longer drink. I knew I could no longer afford to gamble as well as finally facing the fact that in order to win the big pot, be it through my bookie or at the casino, I would have to bet big and I work too damn hard. Or rather, I'm stuck in a place in which I don't want to be, for sometimes more hours than a person should, just to have the simple things. At least my insurance covered the cost of seeing a counselor. They don't call them shrinks no more. You see, I out smarted them. I went to my company and union first. I told them about the DUI's and how I thought I was an alcoholic and they set me up with a whole new regiment. I gotta say, I never looked fondly upon weak people who need help. I never gave a homeless guy nothing. I attended a few A.A. meetings, but the stories just made me want to drink more. And I would. I never quit drinking completely, not like I told everyone I had. I even lied on my social networking site. Every once in a while I would put something up about how many days I had sober. Though I knew I had a handle on it, I would still, about once a month, get drunk. Not have a beer. Or a shot or mixed drink. I would feel the impulse to get hold of a bottle and soon I was lying down right where I was last standing. Wake up with a screaming mind and blood shot vision, making my way to the bed at which point I could never completely fall back asleep.

After the divorce, I was like an amputee, missing a limb yet still feeling as if it were still attached. This only happened as I slept in the early morning roll overs. The chimera realm in which you are awake yet not completely. I would reach for her. My remedy was to buy more pillows. You'd be surprised to know how quickly I go through pillows. The knotted mess they become once I have squeezed them mercilessly, accidentally on purpose. Oh, and I had to see the dentist as well. I thought I had to have a root canal, turns out I was just grinding my teeth in my sleep. My jaw ached just that bad. I don't go to the dentist as much anymore on account of my company cutting off the dental part of my insurance. Besides, they've got so many over the counter tooth remedies now. I quit seeing the counselor as well. He was a really nice guy too. Hell, most of the time he would tell me His stories and I would listen. He had a slow and easy way about him. At first, I am sure I came across as pretty tense, and maybe I was for a while, but soon I would show up and it would be relaxing. I even brought my own cup for coffee. I don't even know if the mental health portion of my insurance is even still active, as I haven't used it in going on four years now.
I go onto my social networking site and look around at what everybody else is doing. It's like a date and I look forward to it. Hell, I even managed to get a few "friends". I know I don't know any of them, but they seem OK. Some old acquaintances from high school hit me up and it was cool for while, getting to know them. Back then, I was too young to know anything. You know how when you're a kid, you can make friends real easy?

I tried going out to the bars, not night clubs, but the more up scale bar/restaurants and became a regular at a few of them. I picked up a couple gals a couple times. We went back to her place usually, I guess women feel safer that way, plus they can ask you to leave before the morning, which I would have anyway. They never call me back. To this day I believe most of those few women were married and their husbands were away. I had my blinders on. Not just beer goggles, godamn horse blinders. I didn't want to know that it was true. I wanted to believe that these women wanted me and that maybe we could be friends and have a go at it. Don't laugh! Or maybe I should go ahead and laugh right along with you.

Now I got my social networking site. I call myself Buck Hendry. I figure, most folks around my age would know who Buck Henry is and I changed it to Hendry 'cuz of that kid in the "Goodfella's" movie who played Joe Pesci's childhood character. "Hendry got pinched!" he came running in saying. Me and my roommate used to quote dialogue from that movie all day long. Man I sound pathetic. I don't mean to.

Sometimes I like to chat and leave comments on peoples sites. One time this preacher invited me to his church. I was seriously thinking about going too. That is until his e-mails became morbid. He kept talking about death and dying. And how you pray over the dead and for the soon to be departed. This guy was a wacko! And I told him just that. I said:"Buddy, if you want to talk to me about theology that's one thing. Just don't come at me with all this ghoulish nonsense." It was creepy. I mean, here is a man of God and he's sending me passages from the bible in regards to meeting my maker. As if he knew something I didn't. Sure, I could drop dead of a heart attack any day. And sure I should quit these lousy cigarettes, but shit man, I gotta have something to hold on to. I have to have something from my youth that can always take me back there. Back before I knew about the cruel beings who walk this earth. They are not demons. They are not evil. They are just plain mean. And I'm talking from all walks of life and both men and women equally.

Maybe I should slow down. Maybe I shouldn't spill the beans so much. I mean, anybody might be reading this. Hell, I might could lose my job and then what would I do? I just get so damn lonely. I don't go to those bars or to restaurants anymore. Not after what happened last time. Now I go straight to the source. I pick up prostitutes. Listen, I know how that sounds, but you know what? I am much happier. At first I spent much too much on those escort services. As soon as the broad saw what kind of car I drive and how I have a half way decent house, I could see the calculator going off behind their eyes. Charging me five hundred. Shit...that didn't last too long. Now I go to the neighborhoods of the inner city. There are any number of 'hoods that have a great variety of ladies. All shapes, sizes, colors and what not. I get so paranoid, I have to circle around a bit, just so I can pull right up to her and have her jump into my car as quickly as possible. I go and get a cheap motel room, that way I can't get busted having sex in the car. I figure, for less than half of what I paid those fucking escort bitches. And these girls are nice too. The street girls actually treat me better than the more expensive ones. Can you believe that? But they never want to stay long. They are always in a hurry to get back out there. I told them that if they wanted to smoke crack, that it was OK by me. I mean, who am I to judge? Some do. But most just want to get back out there. Even in the winter.

I still have my social networking sight though. I recently noticed someone had posted a flier for my old high school's reunion. It's not for my year or anything, but I might go just for something to do. I don't know how I ended up this way. I don't have the patience to get a pet. I don't want the extra clean up, that's all. I've managed to get back on my feet financially and can afford to travel on vacation but I seldom do. Why go anywhere if you're not going to have any social interaction anyway? The idea of getting back into some kind of tumultuous relationship seems silly to me. Why bother? I've got my social networking site.

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