So, I went to a Pink Floyd tribute show with my ex-wife. No cause for concern or alarm there, right?
It sounded like fun when she invited me. I had no IDEA how intensely emotional the night would turn out…
Annie and I have had a tumultuous relationship from that first day in the c-store when we fought about empty bottle returns to marriage to divorce to living together off and on for ten years. Much like that sentence, a run-on relationship. Most of those early years played out to a Pink Floyd soundtrack. Most of those songs came from sides of record albums. That was the theme of the night’s show.
The problem with free and easy relationships is they rarely stay that way. What starts as casual ends up serious. It turns from “That was fun, want to get something to eat?” to “Where the fuck you been?”
Rain and I aren’t quite that possessive, but when one of us goes off the radar for a few days, the other notices. Level of worry?
It depends upon the situation…
There was a time when I really hated the unpredictability of life. I wanted to know what was gonna happen before it happened, and if things didn’t happen the way I thought they should, I would stress. Early on I discovered that few people would see the world the way I do, and would probably want different outcomes than I. So I learned to accept the randomness of life, and to appreciate the controlled chaos and mayhem that comes with everyday life.
I guess that’s a really roundabout way of saying, “I’m having women problems, and I love it!”…
Rain and I have been seeing each other for going on three years now. About a year ago, we had a dust-up and I took a little break. Since then we have reconnected, consider ourselves a couple, for what it’s worth, and she has pledged fidelity to me.
While I wouldn’t call Rain a liar, she’s not known for letting the truth get in the way of a good story. I have been present at some of the events she has described to me, and they are fascinating. Factual? Well… Based in fact. Mostly.That has gotten better over time. We have taken chances on each other. We have a good time together. She seems to care about me. It’s not just what I can do for her anymore. However, I have had my guard up for so long I didn’t know if I could let it down. I wanted to believe, but I am as skeptical as one can get without being deranged. Dr T calls me paranoid. I tell him maybe so, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get me.
Rain has been couch-surfing for months since losing her apartment. There’s no point rehashing that; it’s over and time to move on. Except she’s found nowhere to move to. After exhausting her shelter options, she began staying with friends. She discovered how many true friends she had. The hard way. She called one night and asked if she could stay with me. My voice showed no hesitation, but I was conflicted inside. I didn’t fear for my family’s safety. I didn’t really fear getting ripped off. If I had money she would know.
I think I was worried my last place of sanctuary would no longer be mine…
If you’ve ever been to Walmart, you know how true this website is. I wish more Wallyworld customers looked like her. See if you can figure out why I like this video so much.
Hat tip to People of WalMart.
Welcome to Blogpost #666!
Growing up a Jehovah’s Witness, I was imbued with a fear of the devil, aka “SATAN!” (Say it like the Church Lady.) I put as much faith in the Dark Lord as Jehovah, picking and choosing the best of both belief systems as my own common sense would dictate. The devil’s POV won out, most of the time.
I quit fearing the devil after sobering up. Satan made as much sense as Jehovah in the grand scheme of things, and I came to the conclusion that there were things I wasn’t meant to know. Much like Ozzy or the Pope, if I meet them someday I will be respectful.
Otherwise I’m gonna carry on.
It’s my daughter’s birthday. Has it really been 33 years since the days of diapers and breast milk? I sent her a missive via social media. She is fine; the kids and her are going to the beach for a few days. The Devil’s Daughter is maintaining low tones these days, being a mostly sober mom to a couple beautiful, rowdy kids.
I haven’t completely lost my devilish ways. I celebrated her birthday by eating a raspberry bomb; a large cannabis-infused raspberry cupcake with spiked lemon frosting. It was a dreary Saturday morning, and the cannabis lounge on Hippie Avenue called to me. I asked for their most potent edible, and responded with a guilty smile when they asked if I’d ate it all?
“Hoo boy…” was the consensus. They offered me a hit of hash oil to kill time while I awaited the buzz. After that, I sat in the corner and watched it rain a bit more.
I’d sat up all morning watching Forrest Gump. I was supposed to meet Rain to help her with her storage unit. All I wanted to do was go home and sleep. If I napped early, I would be awake in time to watch the Ducks’ football game. I called Rain, who was still in her pajamas. I told her my plan, and was blessed to carry it out. I ate and fell asleep until early evening.
After the football game, I was restless. It was after 9 PM on a Saturday night. The rain had stopped, the buses were still circling. I tossed on clothes, smoked a big bowl and headed for the bus. If nothing else, I’d go to Safeway for munchies.
As I walked in the cold, windy night, my phone rang. The theme to Dark Shadows and a close-up of Rain’s nipple appeared on my phone screen. I answered, and told her what I was up to.
“I’m hungry. You wanna meet me?”
Of course I did. Instead of Safeway, I’d take her out for a burger. I beelined across town.
I stood outside her building, calling. I texted. After half an hour in the rain I boarded a train back to downtown. I’d gotten out and exercised, I’d buy food on the trip home.
My phone rang again. “Where are you?”
“I’m on the train heading home. I’ve been waiting on you for half an hour.”
“I didn’t get no calls. Hmm. Are you far away?”
“Nope. About three stops.”
“Stay there. I’m on the next train…”
Five minutes later my lovely popped off the MAX. “So… what ya wanna do, fucker?” She was in a good mood. Yay!
“Well,” I said, “You said you were hungry, so I thought we could go to Subway or Mack-Donald’s. I got ten bucks.”
She batted her eyes and softened her look. “Oh baby, I had a bagel a while ago. I thought maybe you were lookin’ for, well, you know.”
“Oh. OH!” My brain shifted gears immediately.
And so we went for a walk in the rain, like a couple of high-schoolers looking for the back seat of a car. Where we ended up is unimportant. We were up for adventure, and we found it.
As we held hands walking to our respective trains, I felt another kind of tingle, an emotional one. Rain’s latest setback has brought us closer together. I am grateful for that. But we both agree, she needs to get her own place soon. Romance is a lot more soothing when you’re not dodging the cops.
Since its inception, I have attended every HUMP Festival, the locally produced exhibit of five-minute porno films. Every year I have taken a date, and every year but one it’s been a hassle.
Why should this year be any different?
Rain lost her lease, and has to move. As she packed the last of her things yesterday, she texted, “Want to come by for one last lunch?”
“Of course!” I sounded more chipper than I was. I had been dreading this moment.
I’ve spent a lot of happy time in that apartment, along with some aggravating and downright scary time. It’s been one of my homes away from home, and it will be missed.
Rain and I were sharing the bathroom after an intimate lunch. My cell phone rang, with Meg’s unique ringtone. I looked at Rain, made a “Shh” gesture with index finger to lips, and answered.
When I rang off, Rain was giving me the look. You know, the look. The one that says there’d better be some spectacular bullshit coming out of your mouth in 3…2… “Why I gotta be quiet? Is that your girlfriend?” She pronounced it gurrrrrlfrenn.
“No, dear. But I’m trying to talk her out of some money, and it’ll be easier if she doesn’t think I’m going to be spending it on you.”
“What you need her money for?”
A guy’s gotta have some secrets. Rain has been busy trying to figure out mine…
Fifteen years ago today, I reclaimed my life from alcohol. While I haven’t always been a saint, it was the tipping point where I knew I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing and live. So I quit, mostly. It’s now been a year and a half, and I am in a good place. Don’t want it. Don’t need it. Most importantly? I don’t miss it.
It’s a special day for another reason. It’s Rain’s birthday. She turns fuh-fuh-ffff-th-th-th-something, though she looks thirtyish. I find myself staring and marveling at how beautiful she is, and how lucky I am.
Recently at work there was a dust-up between Grinder and Rain. He’d mistaken her for a street thief and tried to 86 her.
Oh no you di-unt!
The second time she called me in tears, asking “What did I do? What did I do?” I knew what had to be done. I called Master P and made an appointment for a sit-down. In his office, he apologized to her through me, and told me IN FRONT OF GRINDER that she was most welcome in our stores. He took it okay, but I could see unrest beneath the surface. I’ll be watching my back for the next month or two.
Last week the Symphony performed the 1812 Overture in Waterfront Park. As the bus crossed the bridge I saw the National Guard setting up Howitzers for the grand finale. I texted Rain, “They’re setting up cannons in Waterfront Park. Guess the city is taking no shit from the homeless tonight.” Then I forgot about it.
I was giving night lunches to the crew, and had just finished giving Bart her lunch when the cannons started booming. Rain had come down to walk between stores with me, and began freaking out. “What is that? What is that?”
“I told ya the cops were using cannons to run the homeless out of the park…”
“Oh shit! I’ve got to see that!” She took off in a full trot toward the park.
“Cops using cannons in the park!” she yelled to a brutha standing on the corner. He watched her run, then looked quizzically at my meandering gait. I grinned, and soon caught up to Rain at the edge of the park.
“Where are they?” She looked right and left. I could just see the tippy-top of the fireworks; perhaps the tiniest display I’d seen at Waterfront. I pointed over to the fireworks, and explained the whole symphony thing to her.
“You mean- With my asthma you let me run a block and a half and you didn’t say nothing? Why I oughta…” She went on like that for about six blocks. She explained in dramatic fashion to the brutha what I’d done; he telepathed a high-five with his grin. We stopped by the front of the Cannabis Cafe, she told them with a smile what a rat bastard I was.
“You just wait, Redman. You gonna come over, thinkin’ you’re gonna be getting’ some primo lovin’, and there’s gonna be twenty homeless people in the living room. I mean, they gotta go somewhere…”
She’d do it, too. And probably borrow money from me to buy them beer, to boot.
I haven’t heard from her yet today. I have a special birthday card prepared, and have promised a belated birthday date, since I am working. Will she surprise me with a pre-work tumble? Will I get an offer I can’t refuse for lunch?
No, I’ll probably have strawberry shortcake with twenty homeless people in her living room.
Happy birthday Rain! I love you.