Oct 1985

I was out drinking with the boys. The mighty 4th ID was hell-bent on creating a memorable night. We would leave a dent in history in Ansbach. Ooo-ah!

Halfway through Laura Branigan's "Self Control," I dropped my manners, grace, and pride on the dance floor. She swooped in and saved me. Elegantly.

My drunk-man waltz initiated unintended contact. Two drinks hit the floor. I turned and started to say, "Excuse you," but could not find the words. She was beautiful. I was embarrassed. She said , "Of course, I would like to dance."

My mind wandered. We had just left Camp Henry in Daegu, Korea.. Jerry found a wife there, but I had remained steadfast and honor-bound to our assignment.  The boys played as I completed a crucial negotiation between faction leaders. Back to the now. This was not a "love you long time" moment. This was Germany. Bavaria, to be exact. This was a "love you right here, right now, in this moment" moment.  The DJ snapped me from my reverie. "Abhotten!" 

As our dance ended, she offered, "You go get drinks, and I will talk to the DJ."  

I will never forget the next song, "Ohne Dich." Without you...

https://youtu.be/JxkS1m05C5c?si=ItKv-TTAcwAMSP8f

I don't want to remember the rest of the night. She collapsed halfway through our dance.

Kaspar Hauser

Margravial Opera House in Bayreuth, Germany.

130 km NE

Happy 28 year anniversary. My Jezebel.

Today would have been my 28 year wedding anniversary. But my ex-wife chose a 40 something year old who was cheating on his wife with a married  17-year-old, over our family. He divorced his wife and married the 17-year-old, and my ex had the nerve to be a bridesmaid and hump the guy the day after their wedding. She told me that she was Catholic and could do that as long as she went to confession and said her "Hail Marys"and "Our Fathers." She said I should try it. That it was liberating. 

I found out later that she had 16 lovers in our 11 year marriage (including her ex-boyfriend, a student she was supervising, and some of my colleagues that I thought were friends). She admitted it to me. She said I was always working. Really? We had a house. We had two cars. We had insurance. But she said that was not enough. She needed mystery and excitement. She said that some people do not steal for monetary value but for the excitement and thrill of getting away with it. She claimed that was why she was cheating on me. The thrill of wondering what I would do if I caught her in bed with another man. Fucking twisted. 

She said only men could be narcissists. Women were just victims. Whatever.

It was fun until it wasn't. I don't miss the psychological or physical abuse. I wonder if she became an alcoholic because of her parents. Or if her parents became alcoholics because of her. She would write herself a script for Xanax and drink 500 ml of Crown Royal every night. Talk about madness. I survived the storm with most of my sanity.

This day is now a celebration of my independence. I now understand Charles Bukowski. Women will always lie and leave you in the cold. Alcohol will always tell the truth and keep you warm.

Happy would-be Anniversary to my dumb ass.

Written for Alison E Yaklin

She was wrong about almost everything. She said Courtney would never find out about the ongoing affair with Chris Porteau. Apparently she did. 

She said her license would never be in jeopardy. She should have never given me that hard-drive. I have every email and love letter between her and Chris the priss. I've given it over to the state ethics board. Happy Anniversary.

She was right about never giving up her relationship with her fukboi. And she was right about turning Byron against me. For this, I detest her pathetic existence. She may have Scotty's House fooled, but she WILL stand before God.