Me. The International Cover Up….

So after all the scenarios I’ve already filled you in on,  decided to stay low-key and spend time with the one true friend I really had. She was my best friend. Let’s call her Lola.

Lola and I have know each other since we were little kids. We had tried many times over the years to spend time together, but Lola was in a relationship with someone that was very controlling, and manipulative, and the father of her two kids. Well, this time around, they had split up. He had cheated on her with some other girl and got the girl pregnant. So Lola and I became “Us Against The World”.  We loaded up all of our free time with dance clubs, alcohol, booze cruises, concerts, after parties, you name it. We had so much fun, and I was doing well with keeping my legs closed at the same time.  We had partied with celebrities, which, was my breaking point when I hooked up with a famous music artist that had a concert at a local venue.  Make that two famous music artists, two separate times. I also dated a basketball player for a little while. We didn’t see each other much since he was traveling for games all the time. We never hooked up. Mostly because when he’d come back close to home and I’d see him, he’d be so fucked up on weed, cocaine, and ecstasy that I couldn’t even have a decent conversation to catch up with him. It was becoming a turnoff to me to just have sex with nothing else attached to it, and started feeling like a skanky groupie.

Then one stressful day, Lola and I went out to a local dance club that I had once worked at before as a shot girl/go-go dancer/bartender.  We tried to make it for last call, but arrived as people were exiting the club. For me having connections with this bar, I tried to get in anyway so we can have some free drinks.  As I’m walking through the parking lot, I was stopped by this absolutely beautiful man looking for some conversation. Wow, this guy was tall, tan, blue eyes, and gorgeous. I could tell he was confident, but the shy type, which I’m incredibly attracted to. We quickly swapped numbers and called it a night.

I spoke with him over the phone a few times during the week, and by the weekend we made plans to hit a local bar for some drinks and conversation. He was already going to be there with a buddy of his. Excitedly, I went. His friend was pretty cool, and the hot guy, let’s call him Don, was even hotter this time around, but I soon found out he was a kinda dumb. Seemed a little confused or something. Nonetheless, I pursued it, thinking, “Well, if he’s kinda an idiot, I’ll be holding the reigns in this relationship. I can rock his world, be the true girl that was hiding behind all my insecurities and skankiness, and this could be a beautiful thing”.  This was clearly a guy that was beautiful, but didn’t know it.  Security.

Things got weird after a few weeks. He only wanted to meet up at his friends houses, or out around the town. He didn’t care who saw us together, so I wasn’t worried it was another woman. But he just didn’t want me to come to his house. I thought, eh, this guy must be a dude with a small ass messy apartment that he’s embarassed about, or maybe he lives with his parents, or something else that he didn’t want to admit to me as a ‘man’. I let it go, and decided that whenever I have something good, I pick apart all the little things to find something that I can use as an excuse to not get close so I don’t get hurt.

Then, Don popped the question. Not to get married, but to go on a vacation internationally. His parents lived in another country and he wanted me to meet them, along with his brother.  He told me to get my passport, and to pay for my flight, and he would pay for everything else while I was there. I was so excited, but scared since I didn’t know him for very long. But, fuck it! My ass went to Spring Break by myself and risked homicide, why not go with this gorgeous man that I could probably kick his ass if I tried, and be treated to a tropical vacation?  It’s about time a man treats me to something nice for genuine interest in me.  I put my insecurities aside, and dished out the cash for an airline ticket.

Now, because of my job, I only had the time to vacation for one week, while Don was going for two. I figured I’d buy my ticket to travel a few days after he’d already been there, and leave before he does. You know, so he can spend time with his family beforehand, and then talk about me and get his families opinion about me afterwards. I was so excited to go. I had never been out of the country, and here’s this beautiful man fulfilling one of my dreams already.

Now here I am, traveling on the plane alone. I get to the Dominican Republic, and I’m literally the only white person in a three-city radius. Obviously my cellphone doesn’t work here, and no one speaks english.  I’m standing there alone with my luggage, while the entire population is staring me down as if I was a piece of red meat in a pack of wolves. People were yelling out the word “gringa”, and people coming up taking pictures of me. It was like the paparazzi, but honestly, I was a little scared.

Finally I was able through some lamens communications with a cab driver, I got them to call the phone number Don gave to me that I was able to reach him at in this country. They called him and he was stuck in traffic. I was so relieved to see him show up when he did, and was ready for an extravagant vacation. We were to spend a few days at an all-inclusive resort, and then a few days at his brothers house. People in this country were crazy. They would jump in front of cars throwing water on the windows and wiping them with their other hand sticking out for money. This was indeed a very poor place to be. The resort was beautiful, however, I didn’t get the quality time with Don that I was looking for. He got very friendly with the waitresses speaking a language that I didn’t understand and it was a bit uncomfortable. We did though do some fun activities which I will never forget. The downside of this guy? He sucked in bed. I chalked it up to it being the thorn of the rose.

When I met his family, I fell in love with them. They were so good to me. It was hilarious that I got so much attention being the “white girl” just from standing outside his brothers clothing store. After some drinks, I started dancing outside yelling to people to come to the store and buy stuff. I made the best out of a poor city.

Then, one day at the resort, Don was about to excuse himself, saying he had to call home and check on his daughter. Yeah, he had dropped the bomb on that earlier about a daughter. I realized that it must’ve been why he didn’t want me to come over. He didn’t want to expose his daughter to another woman. I get it. It’s okay.   I understood that. Anyhow, I told him that it was a great idea, and that I should probably call home myself. He gave me a funny look, and I thought, “oh damn, this is it… this dude is about to be sneaky and now he can’t sneak off and talk to a waitress since I’ll be right there”.  This resort had a souvineir shop which contained a few “phone booths”, which was really small sections with sheets creating a cube like in a hospital room that you can obtain your privacy. As we both walked towards the store, he sat me down and said he needed to speak with me. I sat down and he told me that he was really going to call his wife.     His WHAT?!?!  How could he pull this off? We had spent a lot of time together. I had gone to all his softball games, met his friends, visited him at work, met his family, went to another COUNTRY with this man.  Instantly, like an allergic reaction, I went into my “fight or flight” mode. Pissed of the betrayal, but had to play nice in the sand box since I was in a foreign country and didn’t wanna be left stranded.  That quickly changed to “Fuck this guy… what an asshole…. but hey, he wants to show me the good life, obviously I must be better than her…..”

This was my problem. My high was knowing that I was good enough for SOMEthing. Even if it was negative. If I can get you to deceive the person you marry, then I apparently must be hot shit to SOMEone.  The rest of the trip I spend drinking, dancing, trying to speak the language to communicate, and enjoyed nothing but the vacation, and less of the fact that I was there with a beautiful, and unavailable, man.  I was so hurt that when I went into the phone booth, I called up my ex in tears….. which I will tell you about him in my next blog.  The love of my life. The one that got away. SMH.

So obviously, as I mentioned earlier, I was coming home before Don was.  When I came home, I linked back up with the ex the very next day to work the relationship out.  When I saw Don’s buddy that I had met in the beginning, I confronted him asking why he didn’t tell me about Don’s wife. Now I know the whole “guy code” thing, but me and his friend had built a good friendship over time. Don’s friend says, “OH….. THAT’S why you’re upset???”  I was taken aback by it. I asked him what else could have upset me about Don?  Then he told me the truth about Don….

Apparently, Don lived in the Dominican Republic and was in a heavy relationship with a radio disc jockey. Who was a man. Don’s father said that ‘no son of his was going to be a faggot…’ and threw Don out of their house and disowned him from the family.  He moved to the United States, found a woman, married her, had a baby and tried to “prove” he wasn’t gay, which was the reason he wanted me to meet his family. To show he was such a ‘man’ and loved women so much that he had TWO on his plate.   REALLY?!?!  The Lifetime Movie Channel doesn’t even get this good…….

Fuck My life.

….The Other Drugs

Ok ok, so where were we? Oh yeah, I just told you how I found out the guy I was hooking up with was married to my supervisor. Awkward. I didn’t really like her anyway, and I’m pretty sure she was up to her own shenanigans herself. This scenario continued for a little while, and it was that sneaky, playing with fire, thinking “I’m the cats tail” feeling that got me high. At work, I no longer got mad at the crappy work assignments I got handed to me, I took it out on my supervisors husband instead. Eventually that fizzled out, I got tired of it all, especially after I was fired. But that was my own wrong-doing. My late nights made it almost impossible to get to work on time, and if you couldn’t tell, my respect for my job wasn’t too serious. Now that I look back on it, I actually feel bad for partaking in that whole situation. But hey, I was 21, single, and heartbroken…  I realized there were plenty of other men out there, and quite a few wanted a piece of me. Or should I say, meat.  I certainly wasn’t skanky, but I definitely had my fun. With as many guys that I associated with, it was like an addiction to feel that type of “power”. I was untouchable. I couldn’t be hurt, I couldn’t be lied to, I didn’t care. I’d have my fun and toss it aside. I felt safe, and wanted, but disgusted all at the same time. Then there was Victor.

Man.

This was a bittersweet relationship. I purposely left out the part earlier that somewhere within being around the college area, everywhere I turned, someone was snorting a line of cocaine while balancing their beer in their other hand. Bathrooms. Bedrooms. Pinky nails. Countertops. You name it. I had never tried it, until then.  And somewhere along that, I found a way to make an extra dollar. I’m in no way shape or form, fit to spend time in jail. But I didn’t care. I was all around it anyway, and I didn’t judge my so-called friends because they accepted me, so why not??

Anyhow, back to the story. So Victor. Victor was a good looking guy that I’d see around here and there, carried swag better than most, and I was drawn to him. Turned out he also was a dealer. Immediately we had things to talk about and compare notes. Not the best way to get to know someone, for sure, but his timid attitude was so desirable, and it was like in the back of my mind, I felt like we connected because we were both two adults, doing something we shouldn’t be doing, and that there was a better life for us to be living.  The endless nights of playing cards, dominoes, drinking beers, and doing lines. Swapping stories while watching the sun come up, and spending the next day in bed together which the occasional round of sex and chinese food takeout.  We vibed so well together….for about a year.

His best friend was an ass. He was a skirt chaser, and a trouble maker. I couldn’t stand him hanging around this guy.  One night while Victor was sleeping over, he got a phone call from his buddy in the middle of the night who started yelling at him saying that he found out that Victor had been sleeping with the girl HE was sleeping with. I could hear all this because I was laying beside him. Victor didn’t say a word. His buddy proceeded to say “Oh, your girlfriends there? We’ll talk about this later then….” I confronted him as soon as he hung up the phone, and he confessed that he had been sleeping with this other girl. He couldn’t deny it, since I had heard the conversation myself.  I was devastated. Especially that this other girl is so hideous looking it’s not even funny. Trust me on this.

After a while, and after me medicating by hooking up with another guy, I decided to try to give me and Victor another shot. That quickly died out when he hit me across the face because he thought I embarassed him since I asked my friend to see if he could get Victor a job where he worked, since Victor was looking for legal employment. I gave him a job…. to pick up all his shit I threw out the bedroom window.

It wasn’t long after that I was up to my old tricks. I had quit selling drugs, and moved back home, but I was still always ready for friends and bar scene adventures. Feeling lost all over again, I had to make my way back into the world, since I revolved quite a bit around Victor.  But I could never seem to find that feeling of belonging anywhere…

Back on the homefront, my mom had remarried to a guy we’ll call Ken. Ken was awesome at first. He was so much fun, full of life, outgoing, polar opposite from the strict law enforcer she married previously. Once they had gotten engaged, I’m almost positive he grew a set of red horns on his head. This guy spend most of the time at the bar, come home and either start a fight with mom just to have a reason to take off and go back to the bar. The best one was when he said he was going out to pick up rock salt in the Winter, and came home like two days later. Sans rock salt.  And this was no ordinary bar that he frequented. This was the local slumville. Cheap beers and a multitude of pills sold at every other barstool. There’s not a time you couldn’t drive by there and see a toothless degenerate standing outside with a dirty white Hanes t-shirt with their hair all desheveled while smoking a cigarette scheming on someone for spare change. It wasn’t too long after that Ken got addicted to pills, along with booze and cocaine, while my mom was home alone tending house.  The cycle was so icky that I turned the cheek a lot since it was my mothers life, and she was a big girl, and I had my own life that I had to figure out where I needed to be. She had her own crap going on. So of course, I embraced anyone and everyone that allowed me to.

Here I was. Working at a job I loved being at, although I still didn’t feel like I belong there. It was a small office staff, who have already built their ‘work family’ that I couldn’t seem to find my way through the indirect initiation to be part of the cool group that would go out for lunch together. Who had time for that anyway while my mind was being consumed with wondering why my biological father treated his other children so great and I got nothing but disappointment, my ex-stepfather cut off all communication since his new girlfriend thought he shouldn’t have ties since I wasn’t his biological child (which, by the way you’ll take notice from my previous posts that this now makes both dads cast me aside for another woman), my mom who is my best friend was miserable, sad and lonely, my stepdad was a drunk and a drug addict who was barely around unless he was home showering between work and the bar, or going through our belongings to find money to steal, my friendships weren’t solid, I didn’t fit in at my job, and I felt alone and unworthy of being loved properly. And then I met my boss’s nephew who worked there.  We’ll call him Jake…..

If Jake walked up to you and told you he was a model, you’d believe it. This was a very unique experience. This was the first guy that made me blush every single time he walked through the door. I could barely speak without sounding like a jumbling idiot. I’d see his truck pull up and it was like I was a ten year old girl catching a real life glimpse of Justin Bieber. My boss told me that he was single, had a roommate who also worked for the company and that he had his shit together. I’m pretty sure it was obvious to everyone that I was intrigued beforehand. So what was I to do? Become friends with the roommate of course! Long story short, I eventually got invited to a house party they had, and the interior was decorated than any of my girlfriends places….. do you see where I’m going with this????   Well…. one night eventually, I got the phone call asking what I was doing. It must’ve been around midnight so I knew what was going on. But I was so incredibly nervous you woulda thought I was a virgin on prom night. Me and Jake hooked up, which I had psyched myself up daily by visualizing how it would be, that it was totally overrated. We never hooked up again, but me and the roommate stayed friends. Close enough that he let me and one of my female friends use his hot tub on her birthday after plenty of boozing with a side of curiosity……

Stay tuned for part 4…..

….And this is where it all began (Part 2)

In continuance to my last post of bringing everyone up to speed….

So, after that relationship ended. I went through a lot of relationships, using sex as a weapon, and still tried to find the place in the world where I belong. I hung out with many different crowds, and I could “feel” that they wanted me around. Everyone just always seemed happy those days, but I was still feeling the emptiness of a relationship and love. I met up with an old family acquaintance and we became a couple, and after about a year we moved in together. This was the first guy I’d lived with. He proposed, I said yes, but wasn’t really truly happy. This relationship resulted in him calling me by my best friend (at the time) name while we were having sex. Needless to say, I dropped him like a bad habit. Then to find out that he had tried to hook up with a girl from his school who she asked about me and he said that I was “nobody”. Turns out that this girl was a distant relative of mine, and when we bumped into each other after my breakup, she told me everything.

Jay, from the previous post, had toughened up my skin enough to not put up with crap anymore, which I am thankful for. Back then, I was fit, I hung around the college kids who accepted me because they didn’t know me, I got a lot of attention from the male population, probably from the way I dressed, lol. Back on the market I went…..

At this point, I was now 21 and was more in the “real world” clientele rather than near the college people I knew. I didn’t even go to college. It was just a friend of a friend of a party, etc and I met a handful of people that nowadays, I couldn’t tell you where or what they’re doing unless I look them up on facebook here and there.  Being 21 and working a full time job and going out a lot of the men that for some reason I was attracting were married, or at least in a relationship. At first I was disgusted with the disrespect they had shown for their ‘special lady’, but then it came to the point that my mind frame went to “Well, if it’s not ME he’s cheating with, it will be someone else anyhow” which eased up my conscience.  I was just happy to have a “man” interested in me, and knowing that it was my safety. I wouldn’t have to worry about him cheating on me, because I knew where I stood. I never believed, nor wanted to hear, the sob stories of “how their wife doesn’t understand them” or that “they’ve been sleeping on the couch”, or “I wish it was you…” blah blah blah.  Liars. I guarantee if they put as much effort into either working it out or ending their relationship because they’re that unhappy that they spend trying to find a spare moment to see me, I’m sure the girlfriend/wife would have reciprocated.

The first older man that was interested in me was absolutely gorgeous. I wanted every single piece of him. Excited just over the way he would look at me. He was a product delivery driver at the place of employment I was at.  After showing up late excessively from partying with the college kids, I was eventually terminated.  I knew I’d only have to hope to see him some day in traffic, or ‘randomly’ bump into him at the gym where I worked out, and he played basketball. Or even leaving after work since the next job I got was next door to the delivery company, which is total coincidence by the way….

…..and then, I see him walk through the locked door at my new job, meet eyes with me, walk past me, right up to my direct supervisors desk and kisses her on the lips………….. I could’ve died, right on the spot.

Gotta go finish up the work day… Stay tuned for part 3 continuance…….