One night about eight years ago, when I was separated from my then-husband and living in the same small, one-stoplight town as my dad (and sister, cousins, uncles, aunts), I went to the bar, as I'm inclined to do, and was having great conversation about Europe and various museums with a guy, Greg.
Greg and I sat in his truck after the bar closed, waiting for my ride, and proceded to do some light making out. I had all my clothes on, as did he, but it was just a nice way to end the evening, kind of like saying "thanks for the good conversation", when his wife pulled up behind us. Greg freaked out, made me duck down in the seat, peeled out of the parking lot, and led her on a high speed chase.
I heard later that he claimed to have an alcohol problem and volunteered for some treatment, since he obviously would never make such poor life choices if he had been sober. My guess is he was mostly upset about getting caught, but I continued on with my life, moved a couple dozen more times, and never thought about the incident again.
Until...
My sister went to Atlanta to spend the weekend with this great guy from high school she's always had a crush on who is now a pilot for Delta Airlines. They got along famously. She asked if it was difficult staying faithful to a girlfriend, since pilots have plenty of opportunities to cheat. He said he wasn't like that, ever since the traumatic experience in high school when his parents almost got divorced over some girl and a bizarre high speed chase. Greg, Jr.
Gulp. Let's just hope he didn't get any names.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Cry Baby Cry
Ever cry so hard your arms shake and you can't be bothered to turn your head or wipe the tears, so they roll down your neck and stomach before they're absorbed by your waistband? And when you're frustrated because you can't cry harder, you kick the metal gutter alongside a building and possibly break two freakishly long toes?
Me neither.
Me neither.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Sanctuary
Apparently, the separation between church and state in Enterprise, Alabama is the width of one street. The row of churches (Baptist, Methodist, and Catholic) adjacent to the high school was left virtually untouched Thursday afternoon.
[St. John's Catholic church, minus one tree]
My sister and her best friend were in her 2nd story apartment in Troy, Alabama during another batch of tornadoes that day. The weatherman advised them to hunker down and her stepfather called, telling them to "get the fuck out of that building". Braless, in their wet, white wifebeaters and clutching their box of wine, they ran to the nearest house, where they must've seemed like a dream-come-true to the resident lesbian. Who said Mother Nature doesn't have a sense of humor?
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Why I will never again say, "try not to get in trouble at school today, eh?"
"Mom, aren't you relieved I was suspended from school today?"
Relieved isn't half of it. Wednesday afternoon I thought the punishment a bit severe - detention seemed like a more viable option for getting up in the middle of PE class and ignoring the teacher's request to sit down.
Thursday, during the two-hour drive home from work, with twisted, uprooted trees dotting the landscape, rescue workers and concerned parents on every corner, I cried from relief. Sitting in the dark with no electricity, cable, phone or internet seemed like such a tiny inconvenience after the storm.
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