In back seats. In motels. In front of her kids if she could swing it before the old man got home.
Getting what she wanted as soon as she wanted it wasn't enough. She had to thrash us like wheat stubble.
Like an artist signs a portrait. She had to personalize her betrayal with her own brand of mind fucking.
Expecting my mother to take the high road was like balancing a pork chop on a dog's nose and expecting him not to eat it.
So my sister brought up an exception. Sis was living with my grandmother and I had moved out a couple of months before. I worked at a grocery store and never made it up on week ends. My mother lived with her new husband and never made it up during the week.
What my sister said was different about this time was that my mother was so nice it was creepy.
In the best of times she was stand offish. But this time mom was syrupy and sweet.
I thought nothing of it and Sis kept talking about it. I asked her about what time period this was and this is what she said.
It was during the time after you moved out from grannies and mom was paying your rent.
I had no idea what she was talking about.
She said you know, when you were working graveyard and going to college. Mom was afraid you would nod off driving to the farm so she set you up in your apartment.
What the fuck?
Yeah! Don't you remember for a few months she helped pay your rent so you could stay in town and not drive out after you worked all night and went to school all day?
She never gave me a dime.
I paid for my apartment!
Sis said the Barbarian pulled in like the queen of fucking Sheba and yammered on about being a caring mother and how wonderful it is that she could provide for me.
I had no absolutely no clue what the fuck she was talking about.
So I thought and I thought. I lived with her after the stroke and I remember her spilling to me that she almost got caught with this family friend she was screwing under the table and her and him renting a place to fuck.
OOOOoooooooo. I get it.
My step father must have found a receipt, or cancelled check for her love shack and all hell was about to break loose .
She not only used me as an excuse to cover her ass. She parlayed it into some great press.
She could have at least told me to cover for her. And I would have. I had no allegiance to my step father. Plus she made me look like some schmuck that couldn't pay his rent.
Just another cluster fuck from life with the Barbarian.
My sister connected a lot of dots for me. Any off hand comment by or about the Barbarian can not be dismissed. Every thing that woman does has some noxious utility. For her.
You just have to listen and let it drift into the puzzle.
What makes no sense now, will if you give it time.
I can't take any high roads now because of this obsessive need to sort through it. I want to make a list and rank her offense's in descending order. Then maybe draw a line somewhere and say here, when I work through and make it to this point, I will relax and put the rest behind me.
But there is so much shit I can't list it all.
It also begs the question of what else am I clueless about?
Every answered question puts two more in it's place.
I am not one of those guys that thinks ignorance is bliss.
I am one of those guys who wants to bitch slap people who assault my dignity.
She doesn't possess a single redeeming quality. Every moment of her life has been a determined effort to smear her filth on every one around.
My flagging faith in the great hereafter makes me want to administer come up-pings on earth, while I can still get my hands on her, lest she not be held accountable in the after life.