Daily Archives: September 5, 2010


The end of dirt-bag boy

Total loser.  He would occasionally try to discuss marriage.  What, to me?  Are you kidding me?  I will never marry you.  Yes, I did tell him those things.  At the time I knew him he lost his place of residence repeatedly, car and job.  Are you kidding me?  I liked being able to point to him at a bar and say to the person who’d just hit on me “I’m dating him”.  That’s probably all I liked.  Wait, he was a mechanic and that worked for a while.  I have such a negative opinion that I’m really stretching to remember anything good.  He had a dog that the kids liked.  I was a little afraid of him.  He once had someone picked up and thrown out of a moving van.  I wanted him to break up w/me, not the other way around.

We never lived together, I  never would agreed to that.   However, when he would lose his place of residence he would stay at my apartment in between.  I discovered he was stealing from me.  Right, I know, kick the bastard to the curb but I didn’t.  I really just didn’t care enough to go through the hassle.  Right, can we spell depression?   I just learned to hide my money.  One particular night after work when dirt-bag actually had a job and joined my co-workers and I at a bar, he needed a twenty dollar bill for something.  I gave him a twenty and he gave me smaller bills to pay me for it.  I just left it on the bar for the time being.  Later when I picked it up and looked at it I discovered he’d accidentally put a $50 dollar bill in for a 5 or something.  My initial response is to let him know of his mistake, I started to say “hey” and suddenly made eye contact w/my gf, Paula and the look in her eyes was what I needed to bring me back to reality.  I didn’t say a word.  For the next few days he bemoaned the fact that he’d lost a fifty.  I was asked repeatedly if he hadn’t accidentally given it to me.  I’d show him my money.  I didn’t have a 50.   That fifty dollar bill spent a few days in the freezer before it went to the  grocery store.  God bless Paula :o)

One night, towards the end I got my wish.  He said something to the effect of “well no girl of mine is ever going to blah, blah, blah”.  I informed him that I was going to “blah, blah blah”.  So he broke up with me.   Sure wish at this point that I could remember what that “blah, blah, blah” was.  I’d do it repeatedly.  This was one of the in between homes times and therefore he was staying with me for a week.  I went into my bedroom and shut the door.  He came in and let me know what that meant, we were breaking up, yep, I get that.  We are no longer going to be a couple, right, we’re toast and a done deal.  Do you realize that this is the end?  Yes, yes I do.  He re-worded the previous statements a few more times and and I agreed to them all.  He left my bedroom and I did the most amazing happy dance.  Physically, not just in my head.  I performed an amazing happy dance because that’s the happiest I’d been in a few years.

That should have been the end.  Should have.  The next day he took it all back.  I kept telling him that he couldn’t do that, he dumped me … that’s it.  Done, toast, fini, end, deal with it.  He apparently knew a little math because if he couldn’t stay at my apartment, where would he go.  Therefore he didn’t listen to any of my arguments on the fact that he dumped me and we were no longer dating.  He stayed another week, broke up with me again several times during that week.  I always embraced  the break ups and tried to get him to stick to them.   One night , this is what it takes apparently, one night he dissed one of my children.  The kids were at Rob’s so it wasn’t that he said it to them.  He said something negative about one of my children.   I stopped whatever I was doing, looked at him and said “GET OUT!”   Of course I got the whole “you know if I walk out that door I’m never coming back” crap.  Yes, yes  I was very aware if that.  After rewording that a few more times and me always agreeing he left.  He got halfway down the 32 stairs when I  ran out and yelled “WAIT!”.    The slow turn around he made, the big smile on his face and the look in his eyes… you’re going to appreciate when I tell you what it was that I had to say to him. What  I said to him was “Give me Alex’s key back”.   Right, the smile left and the whole  “Rocky” theme playing in his head was gone, with that went the look he had in his eyes.

In anyone else’s life that would end the story.  Welcome to me.  Shortly prior to that night, my brother-in-law had agreed to purchase a car from a (then) friend but it needed a few things done.  Guess who volunteered to do those things.  Right, dirt-bag boy.  He had possession of the car.  Neither brother-in-law nor friend could locate him.  The not locating him I wasn’t aware of yet.  I woke up one day and opened the blinds in the living room and looked out and guess what I saw in the parking lot.  Yep, that car.  Unnerved me a tad.  I showered and looked again and it was gone.  That night I was doing laundry and walked down the 32 stairs to the main floor where the laundry room was and the door to my garage was.  I walked into the laundry room and something about my garage door, maybe it was just a sense, something about my garage door made me look at it and enter it.  The garage was one and a half cars wide but 2 & a half cars deep.    I opened the door, flipped the lights on and made the long hall walk to the actual garage.  Started walking the 2 & a 1/2 car lengths and was greeted by dirt-bag’s dog.  Um….um….maybe I should mention at this point that this was the only time that dirt bag had been w/o residence that he had asked if he could store his stuff in my garage.  Right, so not only all of his stuff was  there, that I had expected but  his dog was there and after a few more feet I discovered that dirt-bag was there.  Most probably a good thing for me that he was passed out.   I went back up to my apartment and shut the breakers off for electricity in the garage. I can only be stupid to a point.  Sometimes it’s by choice because I just don’t choose to deal with life.  This was not one of those times that I was willing to be stupid.

It was another day and a 1/2 before I went down to the laundry room again.  Did that because I saw the missing car in the parking lot again.  This time when I walked in I saw extension cords going  from the laundry room to my garage.  I’ve got to admit that at that point I was a little  afraid.  Hyper-ventilated for a few minutes and then swallowed my fear and opened the garage door.  As before I followed the long hallway to my garage and walked 1/2 way down, was greeted by the dog again and as before, dirt-bag was passed out.  Got control of  my breathing and turned around and yanked all the extension  cords out of the wall and took them with me as I fled the garage in the dark.  The bastard had lived in my garage for at least 3 days. Can you spell LOSER?

He still had my friend’s and brother-in-law’s car.  I kept getting phone calls asking me if I could think of any place he may have gone to?  It actually took me a couple days to remember a trailer park he’d stayed at a different time he was in between a roof over his head. Once I remembered I gave friend that information and she and her boyfriend, in the middle of the night went there and reclaimed the car. I like to imagine the look on dirt-bag’s face when he went out to “his” car the next day and it wasn’t there.

I can  be pushed to the point but, generally I don’t think I’m a mean spirited person.  I tried to be fair and waited 3 months for d-bag (you fill in the “d” word) to get his stuff out of my garage.  Once 3 months had passed  I opened the garage and started taking things to the garbage.  My new neighbor (and I’ll remember his name one these days~I have stories about him too) and his friend asked me if I was having a garage sale.  I let them know that I wasn’t and if they wanted anything they should just take it. Remember that d-bag wasn’t rich.  Didn’t have anything great.  Anyway, got rid of a lot of stuff that day.  Unfortunately for me they took the tires on d-bag’s broken car.   Live and learn.  Every couple years I’d run into a previous room mate of dirt-bag’s  (that he also stole from) and he would laugh his ass off when I informed him, because he always asked, that I still had that car with no wheels in my garage.  Color me “sucker”.   Paid a hundred dollars to get rid of it when I finally moved out of the apartment.  Would have paid at least 10 times more than that if I’d known all along that all I had to ever say was “GET OUT!”.

So there it is.  Got a few comments, both here and fb and some very strong emails about the d-bag subject. Thank you all for your  concern. It was long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.  I know, I’m not above quoting Star Wars.  It’s done, it’s over with and it’s not that I was so much stupid and much as the fact that I just didn’t care.  Hindsight is always best, can you spell wellbutrin?   I may have spelled that incorrectly, I just don’t care.  Good thing I just started taking it again.  Anyway, my point tonight was to put loser-boy to bed for those who let me know of their concern.  Thank you all for that.  Was never my normal M.O.  and for the record.  I never, ever repeated  history.