THESE ARE THE DAYS

I’m just now settling down from a two-day mad-on.

I’m a very paranoid person, and while I know I can’t plan for everything, I try my best. Two days ago, JM told me she saw a strange man pacing in front of our bedroom window last week. I lashed out at her for ten minutes, asking how she could let something like that happen without doing anything or mentioning it to me. I went on and on while she kept quiet and her silence only fueled my tirade. Finally, while washing the dishes and without looking at me, she said it never happened. She was “testing” me to see how much I trusted her. But that only made me angrier and I let her have it with both barrels.

I slept on the couch that night, or tried to anyway. I was so angry I couldn’t fall asleep. I tossed and turned; waking up several times until the alarm finally went off. When JM came into the living room to wake me, it felt like I hadn’t slept at all.

The next day, we spoke on the phone and I was brief. I wanted her to know how angry and insulted I was because she lied to me and treated me like some high school boyfriend. I don’t like tests in general, but I really hate when people test me in any way. Not only do I find it immature, but also it only makes me wonder about their true motives. Women will tell guys they’re just testing them, but no matter what they call it, it’s lying, plain and simple. And, if they can lie about one thing, what else are they lying about? I lay on that couch for the first time in five years questioning my wife’s honesty. My insecurities just went off like a volcano.

I was angry for a long time, but in all honesty, it started subsiding the next day. But, I wasn’t going to let JM know that. I wanted to teach her a lesson. I wanted her to feel bad for what she’d done. And, most important, I wanted her to make up for it. A lot of people have the misconception that with marriage there’s an end to the games people play in relationships. That’s not true. You just graduate to a whole new level. The games have bigger and longer lasting consequences. And, they’re harder to get away with because your “opponent” knows you so well.

I was trying to bluff my wife so she would believe I was still angry when I wasn’t. The pay-off was having her go the extra mile for my forgiveness. I thought I had her when she apologized twice, but she stayed strong. I knew if something didn’t happen soon, she’d eventually get mad at me for holding a grudge. Then the tides would turn and I’d be the one asking for forgiveness.

I had my first appointment with a psychologist yesterday. I call her “Dr. Shrinker.”

I’ve been to counseling before, four years ago, when my wife and I were having trouble, and I enjoyed the experience immensely. But, Dr. Shrinker was nothing like that psychologist. Her office was huge and empty. The shades were drawn and she spoke softly. I sat in her waiting area for a good ten minutes before she came out because she had an “In Session” sign on her door. When she did come out, I learned the sign was there in preparation for my arrival. She spoke real soft, and I almost verbally stepped on her toes, saying hello while she was in the middle of introducing herself. She showed me into her office, and I had no idea where she wanted me to sit. There were two big easy chairs and a couch several feet apart from one another. She gestured for me to sit in one chair, and she sat in the other, almost ten feet away.

I felt like The Shadow had put me in his “blue room”.

We sat looking at one another for seconds before I got the hint she wanted me to just start talking when I felt comfortable. I started with why I was there: anxiety, eating disorder, and poor self-image. But then I started ranting uncontrollably. One minute I was talking about eating, then anxiety, then my need to feel desired, then my family and friends. Only twice did she say anything, and it was only the stereotypical questions, like: “And how did that make you feel?” I had no idea therapists actually ask that question. You’d think they’d phrase it differently or something.

The hour went by fast, and I didn’t expect a diagnosis, but she did give me some insight as to what she was hearing as I rambled on. Her comments were interesting and she asked if I wanted to continue and I said yes before she even finished the question. Again, stepping on her toes in mid-sentence.

I went home and my mother was there. Funny, I’d just spoken about her and there she was. Like she felt her ears burning and knew I was talking shit about her. She stayed for a while, but the mood was uneasy because I was still acting when I felt pretty damn good. My session had left me drained. I’d poured my heart out and still had plenty more left, but was too tired to think about it. It sucked because Shrinker’s initial analysis was so dead on I wanted to talk to her about it, but my time was up. I think shrinks do that on purpose. They give you a hint of your problem and show you the door so it can stew instead of you responding to it immediately without thinking.

The night went on as usual, except I was very quiet, monotone and brief. The kids went to bed early. JM and I watched Inked and Criss Angel: Mindfreak.

Criss Angel is the most disturbing magician I’ve ever seen. If it’s not enough that he looks like a rock star and listens to Korn, he’s also damn convincing as a performer. Seldom do you see a magician or illusionist that has you questioning if magic truly exists. But Angel is like Dr. Strange. He’ll attempt a stunt, and examine it from a metaphysical perspective. He doesn’t treat them as “tricks”, but experimentations that prove the paranormal abilities of the human mind and body. For instance, last night, he had to guess which car had his $100, 000 in a car lot of a Dodge dealership. I forget the method he was using, but it dealt with telepathy through reading a person’s involuntary physical movements. To practice, he challenged a world-class poker champion to five hands of poker and beat her just by reading her body. This cat is so cool, he started flirting with her on camera, but I suspect he was trying to get a response he could read. And I have to admit; she was hot. And, it doesn’t hurt that Angel is built like a superhero. Watching him in action only made me think about a pitch Bloody Pencil and I had to revamp Dr. Strange with special emphasis on his time in the Far East. I won’t spill it here because I still hope to use it someday.

Angel found the money and won a free Viper. Cool stuff.

JM and I were watching that when she came snuggling up to me on the couch. Her period was over, she had on a new patch on, and I couldn’t act any more. It started with caressing my lips on her shoulder. Then her arm, and I kept going lower until caresses became kisses. Kisses became cunnilingus. And, that turned into the best angry sex I’ve ever had.

If the kids weren’t asleep in the next room, I would have slapped her ass and screamed obscenities. I counted five vaginal contractions before a week’s worth of sexual tension, anger, frustration, and love left me. JM lay on the couch, too tired to change positions, while my body went limp and I fell back first into my son’s walker. I screamed and tried to recover, but only ended up smacking myself into the foot stool of my daddy chair before hitting the floor and waking the kids. My son was crying, my daughter was calling for mommy, and JM was stuck on the couch and unable to move.

My older half-brother once told me: “If you fuck your woman and she doesn’t fall asleep or if she gets up right after, you haven’t done your job.”

JM lay on the couch, dreamy eyed, saying: I can’t move. My legs are shaking.” In a half-dead voice and I knew my brother would be proud. I got dressed and answered the call. Daddy slept with the kids while mommy was passed out on the couch.

I awoke today tired and weak from the night before. I had my annual review and passed. I get my salary increase and move up another notch on the pay scale. My supervisor went over her remarks and I felt bad because she filled it with so much fluff I felt undeserving. Plus, she’s a nice person to boot. I fought my compulsion to be honest and tell her she was wrong. I wasn’t a good employee. I sucked. I’d sent a year barely doing anything, but my own work, writing Lazarus, managing production, surfing the net, and trying to hit on a twenty-something med student. But, I kept my mouth shut because one more week and out. And fuck them if I leave a shit load of work behind. Someone did it to me, now I’m returning the favor. Plus, it’s what these people get for treating me the way they did. It was weird though, because she kept mentioning what would have occurred if I’d stayed. It felt like a sales pitch, but things have gone too far for me to back out now, so why make the effort? She mentioned the possibility of my coming back and I almost wanted to laugh. Then I thought about it; considered it, then spent an hour chasing down a specimen and consent, thanking God all the way because I’m leaving. I don’t know what to expect from my new job, but it’s got to be better than this one

The last three days have been fun with one hell of a pay-off. I can’t wait to see what’s coming up next.

A coworker of mine, a receptionist, let’s call her “Big Tits” (Doc, you know of who I speak) wants to talk to me about something. I barely talk to her and now she wants to talk to me about something “personal”. I’ve been eyeing this chick for years. She’s from Chile and has the biggest rack… That, plus an unforgiving accent and long brown hair is enough to drive you mad with lust. I first noticed her when my wife and I were having troubles and I’ll admit, I flirted, hoping she was a skank. Turns out she’s in college and her fiancé just cheated on her. That blew my mind. She’s not in her prime anymore, but when she was, it was beyond me to understand whom and why someone would fuck anyone but her. Even after things were better in my marriage, and I apologized for my aggressive and rude advances, I couldn’t stop looking at her and those huge freckled breasts. She’s forever wearing low cut tops and they just hang there, big, drooping, like their full of milk and Victoria just can’t support secrets that big. Of course, as far as she knows, I’m no longer interested. I only talk to her when she speaks to me. When I moved to her floor, I started greeting her in the morning and that’s it. But every payday, I stand waiting for her to hand over my check, telling her to take her time as I secretly stare at her.

Much like Actor and JG, I tried hooking Big Tits up with a friend of mine, Doc. Boy, is that a story. I’ll wait until he give me the okay before I tell it here, but trust me, it something ALL of my friends still joke about. Three words: Pink, Feather, and Boa.

Then, without my being involved in any way, she started talking to Actor. They hit it off and went out a couple of times, but Actor wasn’t interested in her. Still, despite his unyielding blonde hair and blue eyes Playboy requirements, even he was taken in by her huge chest and seductive accent. And that hair… Fuck! Despite being, “hefty”, and I’ve already admitted being into that; she’s a fucking knockout, amplified by her hot and spicy ways. Doc told me, once she likes you; she’s unapologetic and aggressive as hell. On their date, she stood across from Doc, telling him how she’d do ANYTHING for her man. How he was “wounded” and she wanted to heal him. Doc knew if he was a lesser man, he could have had her that night, and it was their first date.

I think being cheated on changed her. When first met her, she seemed a little uptight, not much, but a good Chilean Catholic girl who wants to get married and destroy her body by having a bunch of kids. Then, after what Doc told me, whatever made her man cheat turned her into a sexual predator. Once she likes you, she’s all over you from day one.

Damn, and I had to go and get married. Fuck!

So, Big Tits calls me over as I’m headed downstairs for a smoke and says she wants to talk with me when I return. But, when I got back, she wasn’t alone and blew me off until tomorrow. I asked her if I was in “trouble”, I knew I wasn’t, it was just my lame attempt at a cute remark. She said no, but whatever it was, it was personal. Too personal to talk about openly and I’m wondering what the fuck it could be.

She knows I’m leaving. Could my fake attempts at non-interest finally have paid off? Will she make a pass at me? Or, will she ask me yet another annoying question about Actor? I hate when she does that. Just run it in my face why doesn’t she. All these years I’ve wanted her and she’s head over hills for Actor, and he doesn’t even like her.

What’s next, JG asking me for Doc’s number?

But, she’s probably going to ask why I’m leaving, or worse, about my weight gain. Great, that’ll be fun. Nothing’s better than admitting your inadequacies to a hot chick.

Tomorrow should be very interesting.

JPG.