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The Coward’s Way Out

The Coward’s Way Out

I moved with my boyfriend into our first and only apartment together; we blended our things and then he changed jobs. I was working split days (so only one day off at a time) and he worked graveyard. It wasn’t easy but I thought it was doable.

This was the first time I had lived with a boyfriend, and it was his first adventure out of his parents’ home. He was 20 and I was 19 at the time. I had already been out of my parents home for over a year at this point.

We had lived together for almost a month when I came home from work and noticed the T.V. was gone, yet the boyfriend’s socks and underwear from the night before were still in front of the space. My first thought was “There’s been a robbery!” I was preparing to call the police and make a report but wanted to have all my information correct. So I retraced my steps; the door and lock were fine, so I investigated further and found that only his stuff was missing – but not all of it. He had left two really large bookcases and of course the socks and underwear.

I started the search for him – this was before cell phones. I called his parents home and was informed by his dad that his idiot son did move back home and yes, he did tell him to call me. He was sorry that his son had done this.

Then the new ex’s best bruh called and wanted to know when I was working next, so that they could pick up the bookcases. I told him that the locks were being changed, and the phone number was next. The retrieval of the bookcases would have to wait until the ex paid me for his share of the deposit, the phone and the new lock; and of course it would have to happen when I was off work.

No, there wasn’t a break in, just a coward dumping the girl that was supposed to have been his dream girl. All because he couldn’t be bothered to pick up his underwear and socks, or his junk food wrappers.

If you are wondering, he did pay me and get his bookcases but the socks and underwear were vacated that day to a nearby dumpster.


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Blackbirds Are NOT to be Hunted

Blackbirds Are NOT to be Hunted

My pappy gave me my first used bb pump action rifle when I was 5 years old. My dad helped me break it down and clean it; that was the only way he would buy me some bbs for it. We went out target shooting so that I could learn how the gun worked and about gun safety.

The next day I learned that in our home we only kill what we intend to eat, a valuable lesson in wildlife preservation. I was in our backyard with my bb gun practicing when I took aim, and  shot and killed a blackbird. My dad’s dog retrieved it and took it to my daddy – so, basically our hunting dog ratted me out. Dad asked me about why I shot the black bird and I said I was practicing with my bb gun.

He took my gun away and then sat me down with a paper bag and the dead bird and told me that I was having blackbird for dinner. He made me clean that bird, and I was so sorry that I had killed that little bird that he didn’t make me eat it. I also learned that we don’t shoot any bird or other animal that we don’t intend to eat.

After that, I had to keep my gun locked up with the rest of the hunting guns that belonged to my dad. I could only take it out if we were going target shooting or hunting. That was the year I shot my first dove and my first quail.

When I started Kindergarten is when I learned that little girls don’t typically hunt and fish. I did, and so did most of my girl cousins.


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I Didn’t Know That Wasn’t Her Name

I Didn’t Know That Wasn’t Her Name

When I was two; you know, the age of repeat everything you hear, I was riding in the car to the store with my Daddy. There was this lady who wasn’t driving very well and it caused Daddy to comment, a lot. When we got to the store she was entering just as we were; I waved and with a big smile said “Hiya Bitch!” I thought it was her name and that Daddy knew her.

 


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Pickles

Pickles

I was a persistent and stubborn child. One day, while in the grocery store with my mother, I saw pickles and absolutely had to have them! I pestered my mother until she finally relented,  and put a jar of the pickles into the cart. I continued to bother her, screaming “pickle!” until she opened the jar and gave me one. Well, my friends, those were NOT pickles! They were chili peppers…very HOT chili peppers. And my mother gave me one. And I bit into it. And I screamed my bloody head off until we got home. I guess she thought she was teaching me a lesson, and I think it worked. Later, in my adult years, she told me that story; and she said I never asked for anything in the grocery store again.


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I Don’t Like Spiders – still

I Don’t Like Spiders – still

When I was in Kindergarten I was spending a Friday after school with my Dad’s sister and her three kids. We had been playing in the yard and I decided to sit on her porch and just watch my cousins being silly. She sat down next to me and asked me what I was doing. I told her I was thinking. This is more or less how the conversation went down.

“Auntie, do you love your children?” my five year old self asked.
“Yes, I love them and you very much”, she replied
“Do you put bugs and spiders in their rooms?” I asked.
“No, why did you ask me that sweetie?”
“Oh because my mom does that to me.”
“What?!?”
“Am I in trouble?”
“Oh, no sweetheart. Please tell me about where she puts them”
“They’re in little boxes under my bed, in my closet and under my dresser. She tells me that she will let them out if I am bad and I will have to stay in my room with them” I almost whisper to my aunt, knowing this would at least lead to a spanking if my mom found out.
“Thank you for sharing this with me honey, why don’t you go play with your cousins while I fix a snack.”
“Okay…but please don’t tell my mommy”
“Don’t worry honey I won’t tell your mommy”

I left the porch to go play ‘freeze tag’ with my cousins as my aunt went inside and called my dad. She told him that it might be my imagination getting the best of me, but that he had better check my room for bugs.

He did check, and what he found was troubling; there were poisonous spiders and a variety of scary looking bugs in matchboxes throughout my room including in some of my clothing drawers.

My room was emptied of all the creepy crawlies, and they were waiting on the dining room table when my mom came back from her adventure. My dad told her to pack her shit, including all of her critters and to not set foot in his house again. They had divorced when I was a baby and my dad had custody. I stayed at my aunt’s until she was gone and my room had been put back together.

Not surprisingly, I still don’t like spiders to this day.


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I thought it was a raisin

I thought it was a raisin

Embarrassing story…when I was a little boy I used to love raisins. I was playing in the living room one day and happened to spot some raisins on the window sill. My mom saw me and stopped me from eating the raisins, but not quickly enough. I had already eaten a couple…of dead flies. Mom, I thought it was a raisin!


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Playing footsies

Playing footsies

When I was in high school I dated a girl for a while…and then we broke up. I started dating her best friend, and my ex-girlfriend didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she hung out with us. We even went to the McDonald’s across the street from the high school together.

One day, during lunch break at McDonald’s, my ex-girlfriend and I started playing footsies under the table while her best friend and I held hands. Then my girlfriend noticed, and started playing footsies too.  It was…strange. But, maybe not so strange since they were both Mormons.


The Coward’s Way Out

I moved with my boyfriend into our first and only apartment together; we blended our...
article post

Blackbirds Are NOT to be Hunted

My pappy gave me my first used bb pump action rifle when I was 5 years old. My dad...
article post

I Didn’t Know That Wasn’t Her Name

When I was two; you know, the age of repeat everything you hear, I was riding in the car...
article post

Pickles

I was a persistent and stubborn child. One day, while in the grocery store with my...
article post

I Don’t Like Spiders – still

When I was in Kindergarten I was spending a Friday after school with my Dad’s...
article post

I thought it was a raisin

Embarrassing story…when I was a little boy I used to love raisins. I was playing...
article post

Playing footsies

When I was in high school I dated a girl for a while…and then we broke up. I...
article post
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