In high school it was a game of cat and mouse in the woods by the school. Kids wanted to gather to party, school officials were having none of it. They'd beat the bushes in search of pot-smoking students. This led some to dig a pit the size of a sheet of plywood. They laid down plastic, plywood and carpet on the floor, put creosote on the walls and covered it with planks and brush. It thus stayed relatively dry. Therein occured all manner of abuse, debauchery and depravity.
That's where I met a girl named Diane. We were all talking about relationships and she said, "I don't really like going out with guys. I like to tempt them and chase them but once I've got them, I don't want them anymore." I'm like, "You're a dude." She poses this rhetorical question: "Do I look like a dude to you?" Thus began a tortured, hands-off relationship that spanned namy years. I use that term for lack of a better one, as it wasn't a relationship in the traditional sense.
We did go on a few dates. Once we went to a Bad Co concert. She finagled her way backstage and wound up blowing those guys for a week or so. Another time she did the same thing with the Grateful Dead. This was what led to the conversation I had with Bob Weir, subject of a previous post. This starts to get to you after a while so I blew her off.
I didn't see much of her for several years. Then she popped up at a party I was at. We got to talking and soon enough drove back to my house. She excused herself from the couch to go to the bathroom. Before I knew it she was gone. So was my car. It occured to me that I had no idea where she lived or anything about her current circumstances.
Since he held the title, my dad took a keen interest in this development. Together we played amateur sleuth and tracked her down. We banged on her door for a long time before a bleary-eyed Diane answered. Behind her was unbelievable squalor to include disheveled matresses on the floor, overflown ashtrays, liquor bottles strewn about, her mom and random guys passed out and cockroaches everywhere. In this mess we determined where she'd left my car. From there we learned where the nearest impound lot was. There, the guy demanded hundreds of dollars from my dad, who luckily always carried at least $5000 on him. The car was there, but the windows were down. There was about 18 inches of water in it. We had to syphon it out. She never apologized.
Many more years passed and I got married. We went to a Halloween party. There was a band. My wife was six months pregnant and in no shape for dancing. Somehow I wound up dancing with this evil vixen. In the midst of all this she leans toward me and plants a ferocious tongue kiss on me. Over her shoulder I see my beloved wife looking more hurt than aghast. She fled the scene. I made it home, and it was not a good scene at all.
Diane later that night seduced the host, the husband of an old friend of ours. Through her I learned that the whore's motive in all this was that she perceived me as this little rich white kid (she was a Native American who received a sizable settlement check from the US government in some land dispute she knew nothing about) who needed to be cut down to size.
And maybe I was.
by Rich at April 19, 2005 5:55 PM
What is that supposed to mean?
by anna at April 19, 2005 6:10 PM
I forgot to mention the song my friend Matt made up strumming his guitar. "Anna's going to be an insurance star, Diane's just some hosebag who stole Anna's car.
by anna at April 19, 2005 6:11 PM
That's awesome. There's nothing like friends making humor out of your traumatic experiences... in a good way.
by jean at April 20, 2005 1:30 AM
Maybe-IE you where little rich white kid and she was a Native American who received a sizable settlement check from the US government in some land dispute she knew nothing about who needed to cut you down to size
Maybe not-IE your thinking that she was a Native American who received a sizable settlement check from the US government in some land dispute she knew nothing about is your perspective...some ass holes are just that "ASS HOLES" and not even thinking about th fact that you are a little rich white kid and she is a Native American who received a sizable settlement check from the US government in some land dispute she knows nothing about who needes to cut you down to size
its called thinking out side the box....you know that bubble world you live in where everything revolves around you rather then your revolveing around the sun just like the rest of us.....
then again its not likly she has the intelegents enough to make that assertation so you foget every thing I just said!
(no offens to women I'm stricly speaking of this one individual)
by Rich at April 20, 2005 4:26 PM
I meant to to say your perspective and others perspectives (though prosess) not just your single position
by Rich at April 20, 2005 4:30 PM
Well now that is an interesting perspective. Actually, like most connivers, Diane was actually quite smart. And the host of the party wound up marrying her. I often imagine his life in hell.
by anna at April 20, 2005 5:55 PM