Saturday morning couldn't come soon enough. Beth was already exercised, breakfasted and ready to shop. She had just reached the entrance to the mall some fifteen minutes away when the car in front of her stopped at the sign. Beth turned her wheel to the right realizing the driver had a prolonged stop. Just then the driver pulled his Honda in front of hers. Blocking her.
Beth's heart began to beat. Loud. The vibration was making it difficult for her to focus. She needed to focus now.
She backed up and the Honda spun around blocking her again. She reached for her cell phone and called the police. They were in the mall. But no one answered the phone.
Finally, she freed herself from this driver in the dark grey car. Rounded the bevy of trees she nearly collided with the Honda. Then he proceeded to cut her off as much as she could.
Beth's heart raced. She had no time to relax herself. Her adrenaline was pumping. A few S-turns and she ran her car beside along the curb to the police station inside the mall. An reluctant, overweight officer followed her to her car. She told him the story of her recent terror along the way.
"You know you are blocking a fire zone."
Enough of this she though. She got back into her car. She called the police departnment in her town. They reluctantly agreed to meet her on the boundary of Lawrence and West Windsor Township. He exscorted her to the safety of her garage.
She opened the door and saw George's car. Home. Very unusual.
"Honey, you won't believe what happened to me, " she said.
George was fixing some plumbing. He didn't stop. Wouldn't.
It would be a few more years until Beth terminated that marriage. And many more until she wondered.
Did George pay this guy to terrorize her?
Monday, December 10, 2012
Friday, December 7, 2012
Conflict Of Interest
His dark, wavy hair and six foot frame said it all. Soft words, a muscular body, Michelangelo' s David. Giovanni made a first impression. He was just too nice.
An oversize round table, two musty camper chairs and a 1970 tv were soon in Beth's new apartment. There wasn't anything else but a blow up mattress her children had lent her in there. It would be a long time until the furniture arrived.
Knowing no one else had a key, Beth spoke with Giovanni.
"Did you drop these off?"
"Yes, you didn't have anything."
"Well, thank you," she said in shock.
That moment would change how she saw him. He was more than cool. Always available to the female residents. Cordial to the male ones. They didn't much like him. Beth wondered.
He'd disappear for hours. The property manager often had to reach him by phone. She knew. He was rarely home. rarely with his second wife. Often doing private jobs, often servicing the older clients at the apartment complex where he held a full time handyman job. He'd provide service at $25 an hour. Beth didn't understand the full meaning of 'servicing.' Until.
"C'mon, he's the pool boy," Robbie said.
"Everyone knows about him. Erstwhile mechanic. Major conflict of interest. There is no $25 fee schedule. He charges what he wants. Depends how you pay up."
Beth became more uneasy.
Pool boy? No wonder!
The Italian mafia. Owners, management, workers. All smokers. Working hard. Against one another. Skimming in ways no one would believe. The Property Manager knew. She was in on it, too. The owner would be in time. The Property Manager was fired once before the new owners came on. The new management hired her back. She stayed in her office.
"Yea, he gives you a cheap price for starters. Does a few freebies. If you are cute, you can work it off in trade" said Robbie.
More drama than she cared to be involved. She closed her ears.
He was doing the second floor a neighbor said. Just then, no tools, on the clock she saw him. Again Walking out of the apartment of a wealthy seventy-five year old widowed woman. Eating an apple. More than relaxed.
"Everyone gives him a Christmas present. A lot of money," the Bostonian octogenarian said with a wink.
Beth remembered the last time he was in her apartment. He sat down on the sofa. Leg crossed. Waiting. Then she got an exhorbitant bill for a small job. She figured him out. the pool boy.
There wouldn't be another time.
An oversize round table, two musty camper chairs and a 1970 tv were soon in Beth's new apartment. There wasn't anything else but a blow up mattress her children had lent her in there. It would be a long time until the furniture arrived.
Knowing no one else had a key, Beth spoke with Giovanni.
"Did you drop these off?"
"Yes, you didn't have anything."
"Well, thank you," she said in shock.
That moment would change how she saw him. He was more than cool. Always available to the female residents. Cordial to the male ones. They didn't much like him. Beth wondered.
He'd disappear for hours. The property manager often had to reach him by phone. She knew. He was rarely home. rarely with his second wife. Often doing private jobs, often servicing the older clients at the apartment complex where he held a full time handyman job. He'd provide service at $25 an hour. Beth didn't understand the full meaning of 'servicing.' Until.
"C'mon, he's the pool boy," Robbie said.
"Everyone knows about him. Erstwhile mechanic. Major conflict of interest. There is no $25 fee schedule. He charges what he wants. Depends how you pay up."
Beth became more uneasy.
Pool boy? No wonder!
The Italian mafia. Owners, management, workers. All smokers. Working hard. Against one another. Skimming in ways no one would believe. The Property Manager knew. She was in on it, too. The owner would be in time. The Property Manager was fired once before the new owners came on. The new management hired her back. She stayed in her office.
"Yea, he gives you a cheap price for starters. Does a few freebies. If you are cute, you can work it off in trade" said Robbie.
More drama than she cared to be involved. She closed her ears.
He was doing the second floor a neighbor said. Just then, no tools, on the clock she saw him. Again Walking out of the apartment of a wealthy seventy-five year old widowed woman. Eating an apple. More than relaxed.
"Everyone gives him a Christmas present. A lot of money," the Bostonian octogenarian said with a wink.
Beth remembered the last time he was in her apartment. He sat down on the sofa. Leg crossed. Waiting. Then she got an exhorbitant bill for a small job. She figured him out. the pool boy.
There wouldn't be another time.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Addicts
Wyatt always had beer in his hand. If it wasn't a can of lager, it was a cigarette.
"Well, I don't smoke in the house. Cept the bathroom."
I could hear the slider open. Walking as quickly as not to be obvious, far away from Wyatt, my inner guidance system was on full alert.
And it wasn't just his sexual comments made in a group setting. Wyatt wasn't able to filter. Period. He thought it was cool. Even joked that he needed 'fixin.'
Beth wasn't about to fix anyone. It wasn't her job. She would, however, observe.
Outside a half a dozen times walking the canines, the interaction became obvious. The ole biddies even began to stare. With nothing in their life but pills and a visit with a physician, anything, absolutely anything was fodder for them. Include a man on the prowl. A predator.
You don't make it past your teens without observing predator behavior. Those addicted kinds of people who can't get past themselves. They live out of a package ~ cigarettes, booze, pills. They feed on drama. Just look at who is in their lives. Who repeatedly appears. Same ole personalities. They're addicted as much as the predator though they, too, wouldn't admit it.
Their addictions are observable in their sexual behavior. Positioning themselves about to pounce, I could hardly keep from laughing.
Beth was more than ready to play with him. Expose him. Stand true to herself. And she did.
Wyatt overheard that Beth was looking for a particular town.
"I can show it to you," he would say for months.
Of course, he would never show it to her. He didn't have the courage. He knew she was out of his reach. Permanently.
"Ya know, I had me a stent put in last year. Nearly died," he said puffing away.
Beth was silent. But her mind was in more than disgust. It was then that she called me.
"So what do you think?"
"Hon, if you have to ask you deserve him."
"Well, I don't smoke in the house. Cept the bathroom."
I could hear the slider open. Walking as quickly as not to be obvious, far away from Wyatt, my inner guidance system was on full alert.
And it wasn't just his sexual comments made in a group setting. Wyatt wasn't able to filter. Period. He thought it was cool. Even joked that he needed 'fixin.'
Beth wasn't about to fix anyone. It wasn't her job. She would, however, observe.
Outside a half a dozen times walking the canines, the interaction became obvious. The ole biddies even began to stare. With nothing in their life but pills and a visit with a physician, anything, absolutely anything was fodder for them. Include a man on the prowl. A predator.
You don't make it past your teens without observing predator behavior. Those addicted kinds of people who can't get past themselves. They live out of a package ~ cigarettes, booze, pills. They feed on drama. Just look at who is in their lives. Who repeatedly appears. Same ole personalities. They're addicted as much as the predator though they, too, wouldn't admit it.
Their addictions are observable in their sexual behavior. Positioning themselves about to pounce, I could hardly keep from laughing.
Beth was more than ready to play with him. Expose him. Stand true to herself. And she did.
Wyatt overheard that Beth was looking for a particular town.
"I can show it to you," he would say for months.
Of course, he would never show it to her. He didn't have the courage. He knew she was out of his reach. Permanently.
"Ya know, I had me a stent put in last year. Nearly died," he said puffing away.
Beth was silent. But her mind was in more than disgust. It was then that she called me.
"So what do you think?"
"Hon, if you have to ask you deserve him."
Color!
There seems to be a post of a similar name in the past. Oh well. I love color so I can blog and blog about it. Color makes me happy. Vibrant colors especially. Natural colors are nice, too.
Recently I purchased an LG flat screen tv. I've waited a long time. Don't you think?! Now stop laffin especially if you know me. I don't waste resources if I can avoid it.
I love watching anything on it. It reminds me of the 1960s when my neighbor, Judy Frampton, and her family got the first color tv in my neighborhood. I longed to see what it looked like in someone's house. Years later, my family got one. It was worth the wait.
So now I have some new technology. A smart tv. I still have one more thing to synchronize. And I'll admit to be a bit nervous about messing up the existing technology. It hasn't been hard to do but I have never felt especially adept at technology. Interestingly enough, I love technology!
This will probably be the last thing I buy tech-wise. I'm not much for silly charges for silly things I don't need in the silly first place anyway. I might just miss the moment glued to it if I do.
Color. Wow, oh wow, oh wow.
Recently I purchased an LG flat screen tv. I've waited a long time. Don't you think?! Now stop laffin especially if you know me. I don't waste resources if I can avoid it.
I love watching anything on it. It reminds me of the 1960s when my neighbor, Judy Frampton, and her family got the first color tv in my neighborhood. I longed to see what it looked like in someone's house. Years later, my family got one. It was worth the wait.
So now I have some new technology. A smart tv. I still have one more thing to synchronize. And I'll admit to be a bit nervous about messing up the existing technology. It hasn't been hard to do but I have never felt especially adept at technology. Interestingly enough, I love technology!
This will probably be the last thing I buy tech-wise. I'm not much for silly charges for silly things I don't need in the silly first place anyway. I might just miss the moment glued to it if I do.
Color. Wow, oh wow, oh wow.
Online Dating
That's a good name for it. Because you never really 'date.' Chances are you won't get much of a response. These companies put on bogus people as long as they pay for the service. I suspect they get removed if they or someone else get caught. So much for their filters.
This blogger is sick of all the misfits out there. In my building alone, we have alcoholics, smokers, addictions of most kinds. This is America in Miniature. I don't plan to be here long.
My karma is set. My face is full of smiles. But not for the misfits. Just stay the H away from moi. Seriously. Pffft!
I tested a theory for the past five plus months. My gut always tells the truth. I won't doubt it again. Ever.
Nor will I try online dating. It's a scam. There are a few lucky ones, but my time isn't worth the risk of misfits.
This blogger is sick of all the misfits out there. In my building alone, we have alcoholics, smokers, addictions of most kinds. This is America in Miniature. I don't plan to be here long.
My karma is set. My face is full of smiles. But not for the misfits. Just stay the H away from moi. Seriously. Pffft!
I tested a theory for the past five plus months. My gut always tells the truth. I won't doubt it again. Ever.
Nor will I try online dating. It's a scam. There are a few lucky ones, but my time isn't worth the risk of misfits.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
No Trumping
No trumping!
That's it. Easy as it sounds. I am not for conquering, but I am for loving.
What is it about these men with their sexual innuendos, old lines, fear of intimacy. The greatest fear of all. Of intimacy. Afraid other's will find out who they are. So afraid they can't get emotionally close. How sad is that?!
Remembering a few of these people along the way. Men and women. Neither can come clean. They buy into what the media spews. After a time they have no clue who they are. So they think (actually they do not think - that is the problem) they follow the herd mentality. They follow the same ole clever lines used before. They think they are cool. Like a cool cigarette and a leather jack. A Harley.
Uh un. Nope. Not cool. More like sheeple. They don't ask a potential partner out. They want it all for free. Well, peeps the time draws closer. December 21st. A time to reconcile. Check your horoscope. No doubt it reinforces it. Mine does.
Listen to your inner guidance system. Don't give yourself away. Again.
No trumping!
That's it. Easy as it sounds. I am not for conquering, but I am for loving.
What is it about these men with their sexual innuendos, old lines, fear of intimacy. The greatest fear of all. Of intimacy. Afraid other's will find out who they are. So afraid they can't get emotionally close. How sad is that?!
Remembering a few of these people along the way. Men and women. Neither can come clean. They buy into what the media spews. After a time they have no clue who they are. So they think (actually they do not think - that is the problem) they follow the herd mentality. They follow the same ole clever lines used before. They think they are cool. Like a cool cigarette and a leather jack. A Harley.
Uh un. Nope. Not cool. More like sheeple. They don't ask a potential partner out. They want it all for free. Well, peeps the time draws closer. December 21st. A time to reconcile. Check your horoscope. No doubt it reinforces it. Mine does.
Listen to your inner guidance system. Don't give yourself away. Again.
No trumping!
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