Things between Kevin and I seemed to be going along pretty well, so I was completely floored when he told me one night at the end of May that he had decided to move to Reno. Since he had taken the money from his bank account, his parents were no longer speaking to him, his sister made no secret of her disappointment in him, and he still wasn’t working. He was happy with me, but he was starting to feel like his life was going nowhere, and (surprise) he was getting tired of partying. His friend Matt had a brother who lived in a trailer out in Reno, and according to Matt, Reno was paradise. So Kevin was going to take Matt and fly out to Reno – permanently. Their plan was to first stay with Matt’s brother Jerry and his wife Linda for a while, then get jobs and find a condo.
I listened to all of this in shock. I had no idea that he and Matt had even discussed anything like this, and here was Kevin, not only telling me he was moving to Reno, but that he was leaving IN A WEEK. (One thing about Kevin, when he decided to do something, he did it.) I had to admit, I was proud of him for realizing that his partying was getting out of control, but I was also devastated at the thought of him being thousands of miles away. He and I talked about it at length – and he told me he wanted me to come with them. At that time, I was still working at the bank and living at home, and couldn’t imagine just dropping everything and moving to Nevada in a week. On the other hand, I couldn’t imagine living without him, either. What we eventually decided was that he and Matt would move as planned, and he would send me a plane ticket to come visit once they were settled in. If I liked it, I could move in, if not, I would go back home and we both would live our separate lives. My stomach would knot up just at the thought of Kevin not being in my life, but I knew that realistically I HAD to let him do this… I had to let him go.
We “celebrated” his last night in Chicago as we spent most every weekend night – getting high. He and Matt were leaving on an early afternoon flight, and were all packed up and ready to go. Kevin made a big production of his “last hit ever” and Matt laughed and rolled his eyes. I had a hard time keeping the tears in as I, too, took what I was sure was my own “last hit ever.” Kevin and I spent the night holding each other close, and in the morning, I drove the two of them to the airport. When their flight was announced, I couldn’t stop the tears. Kevin kissed me and smiled and said, “I’ll call you tonight. Don’t worry, we’ll see each other soon.” I tried to be brave and nodded, then he was gone.
Kevin called me late that evening, and was full of wonderful stories about how cool Jerry and Linda were, how their trailer didn’t even LOOK like a trailer, and how beautiful Reno was. Jerry and Linda were health fanatics, nature nuts, and Kevin was considering investing in their latest endeavor, holistic magnets. (I was kind of skeptical, but Kevin was so excited I couldn’t let it show.) Finally, he admitted that he was exhausted, and I smiled as he whispered, “I miss you – and I love you.” Returning the sentiment, I hung up and went to bed, happy that it seemed HE was happy. I always knew that Kevin was a good person, that it was just a matter of getting off the drugs and doing the next right thing, and it seemed that’s what he was doing.
Over the next few weeks, I worked during the day and spent most nights at home either waiting for a call from Kevin or just hanging out with my parents. I still went out on weekends to O’Brien’s, but I kept away from P’s. There was no need. I honestly had no real desire to get high, at least not without Kevin. I missed him terribly, but my friends kept me busy and happy, until one day in July when I got the call I was waiting for.
“We got a condo!” Kevin said excitedly. “It’s GREAT, hon, you’ll love it, I just know it! It has two bedrooms, a huge living room, a balcony… and it has a pool! We can see the sunset over the mountains from the balcony, and it all came FURNISHED! AND – I want you to come out. You promised! I’ll send you the ticket, just name the day.”
My head was spinning – he was talking so fast it was hard to take it all in. But by the end of the conversation, I found myself agreeing to fly out in two weeks. He was going to get the ticket and mail it to me, and he kept swearing I would love it. I was so caught up in his excitement I was laughing when I finally hung up, and announced to my parents I was taking a vacation.
They weren’t too thrilled at the idea, apparently they were hoping that out of sight would equal out of mind, but they were wrong. And since I was an adult, all they could do was offer to drive me to the airport. Getting the time off from work would be a little more tricky, since my trip was only two weeks away, but surprisingly even that was accomplished with minimum hassle.
The ticket came in the mail a couple days later, and the day of my departure I was in heaven. I was going to see Kevin, who I hadn’t seen in almost two months, and from how he described Reno, I was sure it was a paradise. As I boarded the plane and settled in, I started thinking about the real reason for this trip. Was I headed to the place I would eventually call home? Could I move thousands of miles away from my family and friends to be with Kevin? Would I even like it there?
As the plane descended into the desert that was Reno Canon Airport, I got a little nervous. It didn’t look quite how I had pictured it. It looked – well, empty. Exiting the plane, I was greeted with the bells and computer generated noises of slot machines. It seemed they were everywhere. People rushed past me on their way to wherever they were headed, and I looked around desperately for Kevin.
Finally, I saw him. His face lit up, and my fears disappeared. He hugged me tightly, and we went to get my luggage while he prattled on and on about how great it was here. I had to admit, he looked good, tanned and slightly thinner, with seemingly boundless energy. He told me that he wasn’t exactly working yet, he and Matt were still discussing investing with Jerry and Linda, and were just “taking a break” for now. My eyebrows raised slightly at this remark, surely he realized that the money he had wouldn’t last forever? But I let my worry slip away as he led me to a sweet looking ’68 metallic blue Mustang in mint condition.
“Kevin! How the hell did you afford this?” I asked as I climbed in the passenger side.
“Cars are cheaper in Reno, babe, and I’ve got another one at home - a ’67.”
That he did. He wasn’t lying about the condo, it was beautiful, and when we drove away from the airport, the scenery changed dramatically. You couldn’t help but fall in love with the mountains in the distance, and as we drove down Virginia Avenue the sight of the newer casinos was something else. It was totally different from downtown Chicago, but I was loving it.
Matt wasn’t home when we arrived, Kevin explained he was at his brother’s. I was totally exhausted from the plane ride, and just wanted to take a nap. Kevin led me to the master bedroom, and I fell asleep almost instantly, dreaming of the possibilities in this town. For now, it would only be a week, but already I could picture Kevin and I living here happily ever after…
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
The Beginning of the End, Part IX
It was almost a week later that I found out what had actually happened. I DID receive a call from my uncle, though, but all he told me was that “everything was taken care of.” According to him, that was all that I needed to know.
I was on pins and needles all week at work, unable to totally concentrate on the simplest tasks. Kevin called every day, and if he knew anything, he wasn’t telling ME about it. We even went out on Tuesday night to O’Brien’s, and had a great time. I asked him if he had “partied” at all during the week, and he told me he hadn’t. But he assured me that we would over the weekend, and said he wouldn’t leave me out. Not exactly the response I had been looking for, but if it was true and he HAD stayed clean all week… Well, maybe Aaron being gone wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could continue to NOT party without any problem. Maybe he would realize that what I had done was out of love, and be grateful. Maybe, just maybe, we could start over WITHOUT the drugs.
We met at his place Friday night and headed to O’Brien’s. After hanging out and having a few drinks, Kevin looked at me with a smile. “Wanna stop at P’s?” I sucked in my breath and smiled back, hoping that my nervousness didn’t show. “Sure,” I responded. Kevin gave me a funny look, then we said our goodbyes and headed out. As we drove to P’s, I stared straight ahead and tried to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I wasn’t sure what I was nervous about, after all, my uncle had told me it was taken care of. Aaron wouldn’t be at P’s and there would be no one to supply Kevin with his drugs. And this was a GOOD thing. Kevin may be mad at first, sure, but he would realize how good it was. I was still trying to convince myself of this when we walked into the bar. There seemed to be an air of tension in the place that you could almost feel, and when I snapped back to reality, I my heart almost stopped mid-beat.
There, in his usual spot at the bar, was Aaron.
I felt the blood drain from my face as he looked up and saw Kevin and me. I was SURE he knew, positive he was aware of my phone call… I swore he was burning a hole right through me with his eyes. I looked away, trying frantically to find Sam so I could order a drink and calm my nerves. Kevin, in the meantime, nodded toward Aaron and headed his way. I slowly lowered myself onto a barstool and watched the two of them, trying to appear nonchalant. Sam jerked me out of my reverie by setting a beer down in front of me. I jumped at the sound of the bottle hitting the bar, and Sam paused before turning around. “Everything ok?” he asked. I nodded. “Fine,” I replied with what I hoped was a convincing smile.
I turned back to Kevin and Aaron, and saw Aaron motioning to me. Kevin turned as well, and signaled for me to come join them. I had never formally met Aaron, and was terrified at the thought of doing so now. Why was he here? Wasn’t he supposed to be in jail? Did he KNOW? I tried to swallow my fear and appear as normal as possible. When I reached them, I sat down in an empty chair and waited for the shoe to drop.
“This is my girlfriend, Dasi,” Kevin said, putting his arm around me. “Dasi, this is Aaron.”
Aaron extended his hand and gave me a smile that sent chills down my spine. When I extended mine, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. “A pleasure,” he said, never taking his eyes off mine. He released my hand slowly, and finally broke his gaze to turn back to Kevin. “As I was saying, a mere bump in the road. Unfortunate, yes, but not enough to put a halt to business.” Aaron spoke with a thick Polish accent. He reached into his pocket, and then shook Kevin’s hand, passing a package to him. “Enjoy, my friend.”
How was this possible? How was Aaron still sitting here, still selling drugs? I avoided his gaze as I mumbled goodbye and turned to return to my beer. I sat down and finished my beer in one long chug, trying to quiet the questions that were screaming in my head. I looked back and saw Kevin heading my way. Aaron seemed oblivious to everything as he concentrated on drinking his beer. I wasn’t sure what exactly had gone on here last week, but the bottom line was that the end result was definitely NOT what I had expected.
Kevin and I left P’s and went back to his place to party. It was really quiet there, so I turned on some music to distract myself. Kevin went to work on the product, and I just sat on the couch with the same old feeling inside that I always got before getting high – a mixture of anticipation and excitement with a little nausea thrown in for good measure. Only this time, the nausea was more prevalent than usual. It only increased when Kevin started talking.
“Someone narc’ed on Aaron last weekend,” he commented. “Apparently the whole storefront in back was raided and he got busted.”
I snapped to attention. If this was true, then how…?
“Half a million bail. Can you believe it? But his people came up with the cash to get him out that night. I guess he lost a lot of shit, but still has enough to do business with. Either way, it was done without a warrant, he says, so nothing will stick. But whoever set him up is really screwed.”
I watched Kevin light up and inhale. Half a million? That would mean whoever bailed him out needed fifty THOUSAND in cash. IN CASH. Kevin handed me the pipe and I took my turn, wondering if it was possible he DID know…
“Polish mafia has connections, you know, so I’m sure the rat will eventually be caught.” Kevin laughed. “Poor guy. Wonder why he did it?”
I exhaled and looked at Kevin. Before I could stop them, the words came out. “It was me,” I whispered.
“What, babe?”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “It was me. I’m the one who narc’ed on Aaron.”
Kevin paled and jumped up. “WHAT? How could you be so STUPID? What were you THINKING? Don’t you know who he IS?” he was yelling.
I started to cry, and everything spilled out. How I wanted him to stop, how I thought it was a good idea, how my uncle promised to take care of everything. Kevin came over and held me tight. “Babe, you can’t EVER tell anyone about this,” he said into my hair. “Things like this could get you killed.” He pulled back and looked at me. “Thank you for trying, but babe… shit. Just don’t ever say anything, ok?”
I nodded through my tears, and he offered me another hit. It seemed to calm me somewhat, and I began to wonder why I would want to stop partying anyway. Kevin was right, it was a stupid idea, and I was just a little girl getting involved in big dog games. Games I had no right to be involved with in the first place. We talked a long time, Kevin and I, and came to the conclusion that Aaron would probably never suspect me. As long as I never brought it up again to anyone else. After all, I was just the quiet blonde girlfriend who minded her own business. But the thought of possibly being on the wrong side of the Polish mafia had my stomach in knots. I couldn’t shake the cold look in Aaron’s eyes when I met him formally that night.
Kevin and I never brought up the subject again, although every time we went to meet Aaron I still had the cold knot of fear in my gut. Apparently Kevin was right though, because we heard through the grapevine that Aaron was never able to find out for sure who it was that set him up, but there was one guy who mysteriously disappeared from the bar scene. And Aaron continued to be a gentleman in my presence.
I never bothered to tell my uncle that Aaron was still in business, actually, I never told my uncle anything again. I had learned my lesson, and was lucky to still be alive. For the time being. My journey on the wild side was getting more and more dangerous with every passing day, and then Kevin made a surprising and drastic decision. He was moving to Reno.
I was on pins and needles all week at work, unable to totally concentrate on the simplest tasks. Kevin called every day, and if he knew anything, he wasn’t telling ME about it. We even went out on Tuesday night to O’Brien’s, and had a great time. I asked him if he had “partied” at all during the week, and he told me he hadn’t. But he assured me that we would over the weekend, and said he wouldn’t leave me out. Not exactly the response I had been looking for, but if it was true and he HAD stayed clean all week… Well, maybe Aaron being gone wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could continue to NOT party without any problem. Maybe he would realize that what I had done was out of love, and be grateful. Maybe, just maybe, we could start over WITHOUT the drugs.
We met at his place Friday night and headed to O’Brien’s. After hanging out and having a few drinks, Kevin looked at me with a smile. “Wanna stop at P’s?” I sucked in my breath and smiled back, hoping that my nervousness didn’t show. “Sure,” I responded. Kevin gave me a funny look, then we said our goodbyes and headed out. As we drove to P’s, I stared straight ahead and tried to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I wasn’t sure what I was nervous about, after all, my uncle had told me it was taken care of. Aaron wouldn’t be at P’s and there would be no one to supply Kevin with his drugs. And this was a GOOD thing. Kevin may be mad at first, sure, but he would realize how good it was. I was still trying to convince myself of this when we walked into the bar. There seemed to be an air of tension in the place that you could almost feel, and when I snapped back to reality, I my heart almost stopped mid-beat.
There, in his usual spot at the bar, was Aaron.
I felt the blood drain from my face as he looked up and saw Kevin and me. I was SURE he knew, positive he was aware of my phone call… I swore he was burning a hole right through me with his eyes. I looked away, trying frantically to find Sam so I could order a drink and calm my nerves. Kevin, in the meantime, nodded toward Aaron and headed his way. I slowly lowered myself onto a barstool and watched the two of them, trying to appear nonchalant. Sam jerked me out of my reverie by setting a beer down in front of me. I jumped at the sound of the bottle hitting the bar, and Sam paused before turning around. “Everything ok?” he asked. I nodded. “Fine,” I replied with what I hoped was a convincing smile.
I turned back to Kevin and Aaron, and saw Aaron motioning to me. Kevin turned as well, and signaled for me to come join them. I had never formally met Aaron, and was terrified at the thought of doing so now. Why was he here? Wasn’t he supposed to be in jail? Did he KNOW? I tried to swallow my fear and appear as normal as possible. When I reached them, I sat down in an empty chair and waited for the shoe to drop.
“This is my girlfriend, Dasi,” Kevin said, putting his arm around me. “Dasi, this is Aaron.”
Aaron extended his hand and gave me a smile that sent chills down my spine. When I extended mine, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. “A pleasure,” he said, never taking his eyes off mine. He released my hand slowly, and finally broke his gaze to turn back to Kevin. “As I was saying, a mere bump in the road. Unfortunate, yes, but not enough to put a halt to business.” Aaron spoke with a thick Polish accent. He reached into his pocket, and then shook Kevin’s hand, passing a package to him. “Enjoy, my friend.”
How was this possible? How was Aaron still sitting here, still selling drugs? I avoided his gaze as I mumbled goodbye and turned to return to my beer. I sat down and finished my beer in one long chug, trying to quiet the questions that were screaming in my head. I looked back and saw Kevin heading my way. Aaron seemed oblivious to everything as he concentrated on drinking his beer. I wasn’t sure what exactly had gone on here last week, but the bottom line was that the end result was definitely NOT what I had expected.
Kevin and I left P’s and went back to his place to party. It was really quiet there, so I turned on some music to distract myself. Kevin went to work on the product, and I just sat on the couch with the same old feeling inside that I always got before getting high – a mixture of anticipation and excitement with a little nausea thrown in for good measure. Only this time, the nausea was more prevalent than usual. It only increased when Kevin started talking.
“Someone narc’ed on Aaron last weekend,” he commented. “Apparently the whole storefront in back was raided and he got busted.”
I snapped to attention. If this was true, then how…?
“Half a million bail. Can you believe it? But his people came up with the cash to get him out that night. I guess he lost a lot of shit, but still has enough to do business with. Either way, it was done without a warrant, he says, so nothing will stick. But whoever set him up is really screwed.”
I watched Kevin light up and inhale. Half a million? That would mean whoever bailed him out needed fifty THOUSAND in cash. IN CASH. Kevin handed me the pipe and I took my turn, wondering if it was possible he DID know…
“Polish mafia has connections, you know, so I’m sure the rat will eventually be caught.” Kevin laughed. “Poor guy. Wonder why he did it?”
I exhaled and looked at Kevin. Before I could stop them, the words came out. “It was me,” I whispered.
“What, babe?”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “It was me. I’m the one who narc’ed on Aaron.”
Kevin paled and jumped up. “WHAT? How could you be so STUPID? What were you THINKING? Don’t you know who he IS?” he was yelling.
I started to cry, and everything spilled out. How I wanted him to stop, how I thought it was a good idea, how my uncle promised to take care of everything. Kevin came over and held me tight. “Babe, you can’t EVER tell anyone about this,” he said into my hair. “Things like this could get you killed.” He pulled back and looked at me. “Thank you for trying, but babe… shit. Just don’t ever say anything, ok?”
I nodded through my tears, and he offered me another hit. It seemed to calm me somewhat, and I began to wonder why I would want to stop partying anyway. Kevin was right, it was a stupid idea, and I was just a little girl getting involved in big dog games. Games I had no right to be involved with in the first place. We talked a long time, Kevin and I, and came to the conclusion that Aaron would probably never suspect me. As long as I never brought it up again to anyone else. After all, I was just the quiet blonde girlfriend who minded her own business. But the thought of possibly being on the wrong side of the Polish mafia had my stomach in knots. I couldn’t shake the cold look in Aaron’s eyes when I met him formally that night.
Kevin and I never brought up the subject again, although every time we went to meet Aaron I still had the cold knot of fear in my gut. Apparently Kevin was right though, because we heard through the grapevine that Aaron was never able to find out for sure who it was that set him up, but there was one guy who mysteriously disappeared from the bar scene. And Aaron continued to be a gentleman in my presence.
I never bothered to tell my uncle that Aaron was still in business, actually, I never told my uncle anything again. I had learned my lesson, and was lucky to still be alive. For the time being. My journey on the wild side was getting more and more dangerous with every passing day, and then Kevin made a surprising and drastic decision. He was moving to Reno.
The Beginning of the End, Part VIII
After what seemed like forever, Kevin returned from the police station. And when he did, he was pissed. Apparently Glenn had not only been shooting heroin while he was supposed to be delivering publications, but he was selling the publications to a recycling plant (instead of filling the paper boxes) to get the money to do it. Which explained why he kept putting off Kevin and telling him the companies would only pay them monthly. Since they hadn’t even been working a month, Kevin had never seen a check for their efforts. And now, he never would. To top it off, they impounded the van and wouldn’t release it since it was used in a “drug related arrest.” Glenn, obviously, was being held in the clink and probably would stay there indefinitely, since I was pretty sure he had no real family to call and aside from Kevin and I, Tom and Kathy were his only real friends. Kevin had no desire to ever see Glenn again, and Tom and Kathy could’ve cared less.
As another of Kevin’s dreams of easy money went up in smoke, he started getting frustrated. He began going out without me more and more, and getting high more frequently than ever. I tried to just keep on working my nine-to-five and at night not dwell on his current state, but as time went on I was getting increasingly worried. I still partied with him on the weekends, but usually only one night. Kevin, on the other hand, was out every night and slept every day. I came to find out that he had closed a bank account that had been in trust for him since he was a teenager. To the tune of over $20,000.00. When his parents found out, they basically disowned him, but he didn’t even seem to care. He was on a path to destruction, and I felt that all I could do was watch.
After several weeks had passed and Kevin showed no sign of slowing down or cutting back, I finally confronted him on a Friday night. I told him I was really worried because he seemed to be partying too much, that he would wind up like Glenn, that I needed him. He responded by telling me not to worry, he was fine, he had plenty of money, and let’s get high. Of course, we wound up at P’s looking for Aaron, who seemed to be waiting for us. By this time I knew the routine, and sat at the bar chatting with Sam while Kevin and Aaron made the walk out back to the storefront where Aaron did his “business.” He returned as he always did, and Aaron sat back at the bar. Finish beer, wave goodbye, leave. It was getting redundant.
For whatever reason, this time when we got back to Kevin’s I had an incredible feeling of sadness wash over me while I watched him cooking up the shit. This wasn’t what I wanted, for either of us. Yet here I was. Funny thing about using drugs, though, is that even when you get those moments of clarity, if the opportunity to use is there, you still won’t pass it up. Which I didn’t. But when everything was gone, and I drove home, I decided to do something drastic. I wanted this to end, and I thought I had the perfect idea how to make that happen.
I snuck into my house and tried not to wake my parents as I looked up my uncle’s number. It was about three in the morning, but I didn’t care. In my cocaine-addled mind, I truly believed that this was the only way to go. As I dialed in my bedroom, my mind raced with the still lingering rush of the drug and the hope mixed with fear over what I was doing. My uncle answered, and sounded panicked when he heard my voice at that hour.
My uncle, who was a narcotics officer. My brilliant idea was to get Aaron busted so Kevin would have nowhere to go to get drugs anymore. I knew I was taking a major risk by calling my uncle, but I hoped that I could convince him I was still the “good girl,” only trying to help my boyfriend who had a “little issue with cocaine.” I cried while I talked to him, and I guess the fact that I was so NOT the type of person to be “on” anything mixed with my obvious desperation was enough to make my uncle soothe me with kind words before prodding me to talk more. When I was able to slow down and catch my breath, I explained everything to him (well, almost) – how Kevin was getting mixed up with drugs, how concerned I was about him, and how I knew where he was getting them. I told him all about Aaron, and his “cancer,” and the storefront behind P’s where I knew he kept his stash. I told him he had to shut Aaron down so Kevin could quit, and so he and I could live a normal life. My uncle swore he would take care of things, and added that actually, his unit had been watching that area for a while. They just were missing the details, which I had now filled in for him. He also told me not to tell ANYONE what I had told him, because it could wind up very dangerous for myself and Kevin.
I promised, over and over, and thanked him profusely. When I hung up, my heart was pounding out of my chest from a combination of fear over what I had just done and the drugs. There were two possibilities: if this worked, Kevin and I could possibly be forced to live a normal life without the drugs; but if it didn’t, things would continue as they had been, and I would have to start making some serious choices. I fell into a restless sleep, and awoke the next day with a cold hand of fear clutching my heart. What had I done? In the bright sunshine of a new day, I realized that the phone call I had made the night before would result in some SERIOUS consequences. I knew I had to keep Kevin away from P’s until the other shoe dropped, without telling him why. This would be no easy task, but I HAD to do it. Somehow I convinced him to join me out at O’Brien’s that night, and brought enough money with me to keep him drinking there. He mentioned wanting to stop at P’s, but I cajoled and flirted and convinced him to stay. At closing time, we went back to his place and I spent the night sleeping next to him, hoping I could somehow save him from himself… hoping my plan had worked. It wouldn’t be long before I found out, and when I did I wasn’t sure it was worth it after all…
As another of Kevin’s dreams of easy money went up in smoke, he started getting frustrated. He began going out without me more and more, and getting high more frequently than ever. I tried to just keep on working my nine-to-five and at night not dwell on his current state, but as time went on I was getting increasingly worried. I still partied with him on the weekends, but usually only one night. Kevin, on the other hand, was out every night and slept every day. I came to find out that he had closed a bank account that had been in trust for him since he was a teenager. To the tune of over $20,000.00. When his parents found out, they basically disowned him, but he didn’t even seem to care. He was on a path to destruction, and I felt that all I could do was watch.
After several weeks had passed and Kevin showed no sign of slowing down or cutting back, I finally confronted him on a Friday night. I told him I was really worried because he seemed to be partying too much, that he would wind up like Glenn, that I needed him. He responded by telling me not to worry, he was fine, he had plenty of money, and let’s get high. Of course, we wound up at P’s looking for Aaron, who seemed to be waiting for us. By this time I knew the routine, and sat at the bar chatting with Sam while Kevin and Aaron made the walk out back to the storefront where Aaron did his “business.” He returned as he always did, and Aaron sat back at the bar. Finish beer, wave goodbye, leave. It was getting redundant.
For whatever reason, this time when we got back to Kevin’s I had an incredible feeling of sadness wash over me while I watched him cooking up the shit. This wasn’t what I wanted, for either of us. Yet here I was. Funny thing about using drugs, though, is that even when you get those moments of clarity, if the opportunity to use is there, you still won’t pass it up. Which I didn’t. But when everything was gone, and I drove home, I decided to do something drastic. I wanted this to end, and I thought I had the perfect idea how to make that happen.
I snuck into my house and tried not to wake my parents as I looked up my uncle’s number. It was about three in the morning, but I didn’t care. In my cocaine-addled mind, I truly believed that this was the only way to go. As I dialed in my bedroom, my mind raced with the still lingering rush of the drug and the hope mixed with fear over what I was doing. My uncle answered, and sounded panicked when he heard my voice at that hour.
My uncle, who was a narcotics officer. My brilliant idea was to get Aaron busted so Kevin would have nowhere to go to get drugs anymore. I knew I was taking a major risk by calling my uncle, but I hoped that I could convince him I was still the “good girl,” only trying to help my boyfriend who had a “little issue with cocaine.” I cried while I talked to him, and I guess the fact that I was so NOT the type of person to be “on” anything mixed with my obvious desperation was enough to make my uncle soothe me with kind words before prodding me to talk more. When I was able to slow down and catch my breath, I explained everything to him (well, almost) – how Kevin was getting mixed up with drugs, how concerned I was about him, and how I knew where he was getting them. I told him all about Aaron, and his “cancer,” and the storefront behind P’s where I knew he kept his stash. I told him he had to shut Aaron down so Kevin could quit, and so he and I could live a normal life. My uncle swore he would take care of things, and added that actually, his unit had been watching that area for a while. They just were missing the details, which I had now filled in for him. He also told me not to tell ANYONE what I had told him, because it could wind up very dangerous for myself and Kevin.
I promised, over and over, and thanked him profusely. When I hung up, my heart was pounding out of my chest from a combination of fear over what I had just done and the drugs. There were two possibilities: if this worked, Kevin and I could possibly be forced to live a normal life without the drugs; but if it didn’t, things would continue as they had been, and I would have to start making some serious choices. I fell into a restless sleep, and awoke the next day with a cold hand of fear clutching my heart. What had I done? In the bright sunshine of a new day, I realized that the phone call I had made the night before would result in some SERIOUS consequences. I knew I had to keep Kevin away from P’s until the other shoe dropped, without telling him why. This would be no easy task, but I HAD to do it. Somehow I convinced him to join me out at O’Brien’s that night, and brought enough money with me to keep him drinking there. He mentioned wanting to stop at P’s, but I cajoled and flirted and convinced him to stay. At closing time, we went back to his place and I spent the night sleeping next to him, hoping I could somehow save him from himself… hoping my plan had worked. It wouldn’t be long before I found out, and when I did I wasn’t sure it was worth it after all…
The Beginning of the End, Part VII
In the beginning, it really was no big deal. I still kept working my nine-to-five at the local bank, and Kevin seemed to be doing well with his “free publication” business he had with Glenn. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, things began to change.
We started frequenting O’Brien’s less and less, and started hanging out more and more with Tom and Kathy at their house, getting high. In some recess of my mind, I realized that these people were impossibly far off my list of “people to hang out with,” but eventually I stopped caring. I thought I was better than them, since I still had a job, was more educated, had a good family, and didn’t NEED to get high every day. I examined Kathy’s drawn-out face and gray teeth, and it gave me the chills. SHE was bad. She would literally shake as she lit her pipe, and would sometimes smoke every hit in succession until it was all gone, then just sit in a corner and “tweak.” Not me. NEVER me, I swore to myself. This was just for fun, not a life plan. Although there was no doubt I loved the rush I felt whenever I felt that smoke flowing into my lungs.
I never asked Kevin where he was getting the drugs, and he never offered. Until the day he took me to a local bar called P’s (can’t use the real name – it’s still there). It was a real hole-in-the-wall kind of bar, right next to the bus terminal, and it was frequented by mostly old drunks and young punks, depending on the time of day. A real beer and shot joint, with a jukebox and dartboard and not much else. The owner was an old guy named Sam (again, not his real name) who took one look at me and knew I was in the wrong place. He greeted Kevin, got him a drink, and asked me what I would like. I ordered a Lite and smiled nervously at my surroundings. Sam got me my beer and went back to socializing with some regulars at the end of the bar.
Kevin eventually got up and started talking to a younger bald guy near the end of the bar, leaving me instructions to wait until he came back. Sam took this opportunity to approach me.
“Honey, what’s your name?” he asked kindly.
“Dasi,” I replied nervously.
“Well, Dasi,” he said conspiratorially, “you DO realize that this is NOT the kind of place you should be hanging around in, don’t you? And your boyfriend over there…” he gestured towards Kevin, “nice guy, but…” He shrugged, and gave a sad smile.
I looked over at Kevin, who was animatedly talking to the bald guy. The bald guy wasn’t even looking at him, really, just stared straight ahead and drank his beer, nodding every now and then. Then I looked back at Sam. He had his back to me and was restocking the cooler. For some reason, I knew Sam meant well, maybe even had a daughter of his own, but I also knew that it didn’t matter. At this point, there was no one in the world who could convince me to leave Kevin.
I looked back to where Kevin was, and was startled to realize that he was gone. The stool that the bald guy had been sitting on was empty as well, but there were two half full beer bottles in front of each vacant space. Based on this and this alone, I figured that they would be back. I mean, Kevin would NEVER waste a half-full beer.
My theory was right, and it wasn’t long before they both came in from the back. Bald guy sat down, but Kevin just grabbed his beer and walked up to me. “Mission accomplished,” he stated with a grin. “Finish your beer, we’re going to party.”
As I drank the last of my Lite, I saw Sam watching me. I stood up and gave him a little smile and a wave, and he waved back. It was odd to see such a nice man running a bar like P’s. Then again, it was odd for a nice girl like me to be there, too. Kevin and I went back to his place and he produced a baggie full of white powder. I watched as he cooked it in front of me for the first time, amazed at the process. It looked ridiculously easy, yet complicated at the same time. Funny thing is, I never did try cooking it myself. Ever.
Once we got a good rush going, Kevin told me all about the bald guy, whose name was Aaron. He was bald because he had cancer, you see, and dealing drugs was how he paid for his chemo. To this day, I am not sure if Aaron or Kevin made up that story, but of course naïve as I was, I bought the story and figured we’d better buy a lot more so he didn’t die. But not that night. Because I felt good enough, and I had my boyfriend, and all was well.
I spent the night at his place, and in the morning he got a call. It was the police – apparently Glenn had been arrested while supposedly making deliveries in the van registered to Kevin. They wanted to know if it was stolen, because when they arrested Glenn he was shooting heroin in the back of the van, surrounded by thousands of magazines that had never been delivered. Kevin told them that no, it hadn’t been stolen, but he was certainly unaware of his friend’s habit. Then he asked if he could use my car to go to the station.
Of course, I said yes, and even offered to drive, but he said he would just go alone. I asked him if he knew Glenn was shooting heroin, because THAT really freaked me out, and he looked at me strangely and replied, “Well, he’s a Vietnam vet, Dasi, they do these things.” Then he left.
I sat there alone in Kevin’s place thinking about it. Did that justify using heroin? With a NEEDLE? All I knew was that I would NEVER use a needle – the whole idea of it gave me the chills. Smoking a little was way different. I felt a little sorry for Glenn, but was angry at him too. From the way things looked, he hadn’t been delivering the papers at all, and who knew if Kevin would be able to get the van back now? With a sigh, I laid back down on the bed and closed my eyes, figuring I’d just take a little nap until Kevin came back with the whole story…
We started frequenting O’Brien’s less and less, and started hanging out more and more with Tom and Kathy at their house, getting high. In some recess of my mind, I realized that these people were impossibly far off my list of “people to hang out with,” but eventually I stopped caring. I thought I was better than them, since I still had a job, was more educated, had a good family, and didn’t NEED to get high every day. I examined Kathy’s drawn-out face and gray teeth, and it gave me the chills. SHE was bad. She would literally shake as she lit her pipe, and would sometimes smoke every hit in succession until it was all gone, then just sit in a corner and “tweak.” Not me. NEVER me, I swore to myself. This was just for fun, not a life plan. Although there was no doubt I loved the rush I felt whenever I felt that smoke flowing into my lungs.
I never asked Kevin where he was getting the drugs, and he never offered. Until the day he took me to a local bar called P’s (can’t use the real name – it’s still there). It was a real hole-in-the-wall kind of bar, right next to the bus terminal, and it was frequented by mostly old drunks and young punks, depending on the time of day. A real beer and shot joint, with a jukebox and dartboard and not much else. The owner was an old guy named Sam (again, not his real name) who took one look at me and knew I was in the wrong place. He greeted Kevin, got him a drink, and asked me what I would like. I ordered a Lite and smiled nervously at my surroundings. Sam got me my beer and went back to socializing with some regulars at the end of the bar.
Kevin eventually got up and started talking to a younger bald guy near the end of the bar, leaving me instructions to wait until he came back. Sam took this opportunity to approach me.
“Honey, what’s your name?” he asked kindly.
“Dasi,” I replied nervously.
“Well, Dasi,” he said conspiratorially, “you DO realize that this is NOT the kind of place you should be hanging around in, don’t you? And your boyfriend over there…” he gestured towards Kevin, “nice guy, but…” He shrugged, and gave a sad smile.
I looked over at Kevin, who was animatedly talking to the bald guy. The bald guy wasn’t even looking at him, really, just stared straight ahead and drank his beer, nodding every now and then. Then I looked back at Sam. He had his back to me and was restocking the cooler. For some reason, I knew Sam meant well, maybe even had a daughter of his own, but I also knew that it didn’t matter. At this point, there was no one in the world who could convince me to leave Kevin.
I looked back to where Kevin was, and was startled to realize that he was gone. The stool that the bald guy had been sitting on was empty as well, but there were two half full beer bottles in front of each vacant space. Based on this and this alone, I figured that they would be back. I mean, Kevin would NEVER waste a half-full beer.
My theory was right, and it wasn’t long before they both came in from the back. Bald guy sat down, but Kevin just grabbed his beer and walked up to me. “Mission accomplished,” he stated with a grin. “Finish your beer, we’re going to party.”
As I drank the last of my Lite, I saw Sam watching me. I stood up and gave him a little smile and a wave, and he waved back. It was odd to see such a nice man running a bar like P’s. Then again, it was odd for a nice girl like me to be there, too. Kevin and I went back to his place and he produced a baggie full of white powder. I watched as he cooked it in front of me for the first time, amazed at the process. It looked ridiculously easy, yet complicated at the same time. Funny thing is, I never did try cooking it myself. Ever.
Once we got a good rush going, Kevin told me all about the bald guy, whose name was Aaron. He was bald because he had cancer, you see, and dealing drugs was how he paid for his chemo. To this day, I am not sure if Aaron or Kevin made up that story, but of course naïve as I was, I bought the story and figured we’d better buy a lot more so he didn’t die. But not that night. Because I felt good enough, and I had my boyfriend, and all was well.
I spent the night at his place, and in the morning he got a call. It was the police – apparently Glenn had been arrested while supposedly making deliveries in the van registered to Kevin. They wanted to know if it was stolen, because when they arrested Glenn he was shooting heroin in the back of the van, surrounded by thousands of magazines that had never been delivered. Kevin told them that no, it hadn’t been stolen, but he was certainly unaware of his friend’s habit. Then he asked if he could use my car to go to the station.
Of course, I said yes, and even offered to drive, but he said he would just go alone. I asked him if he knew Glenn was shooting heroin, because THAT really freaked me out, and he looked at me strangely and replied, “Well, he’s a Vietnam vet, Dasi, they do these things.” Then he left.
I sat there alone in Kevin’s place thinking about it. Did that justify using heroin? With a NEEDLE? All I knew was that I would NEVER use a needle – the whole idea of it gave me the chills. Smoking a little was way different. I felt a little sorry for Glenn, but was angry at him too. From the way things looked, he hadn’t been delivering the papers at all, and who knew if Kevin would be able to get the van back now? With a sigh, I laid back down on the bed and closed my eyes, figuring I’d just take a little nap until Kevin came back with the whole story…
The Beginning of the End, Part VI
(First may I say thank you for your patience. I had some other ideas for today’s blog, but first things first. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. Then if Satan backs off a little today, maybe I can write some other stuff. Anyhoo –here you go…)
When I walked into the room Kevin was in, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He started coughing and exhaling at the same time, and the room was filled with a cloud of smoke. I wasn’t sure what to make of the whole situation, because I knew I didn’t smell pot, so I pretty much just stood there for a minute. After regaining his composure, Kevin looked at me and said, “You should go back out there.”
At this point, my confusion was giving way to irritation. He OBVIOUSLY had been hiding something from me for a while, and now all he had to say was to “go back out there?” I don’t think so. I sat on the floor defiantly and said, “Not until you tell me what you are doing.” I caught sight of him trying to hide something behind his back. “What is that?” I asked, reaching for his arm.
Kevin tried unsuccessfully to prevent me from finding the inevitable, and opened his hand to reveal a small glass tube. A small HOT glass tube. With a burnt end. Apparently he had been smoking something from it – and before I had a chance to ask him what, he said, “Dasi, you CAN’T do this. You have to leave.”
To his credit, that was probably one of the few things he said that I really SHOULD have listened to. But, naïve as I was and all full of the vim and vigor only the young and stupid possess, I refused. I insisted on knowing exactly WHAT he had been smoking, and WHY I wasn’t in on this little party. With a heavy sigh, Kevin relented. He was smoking coke, he explained, which wasn’t REALLY crack because crack is what they use in the ghettos, besides, all this was was cocaine and baking soda. But he really didn’t think it was a good idea for me to try it, because – well, just because. And that, my friends, is NEVER a good answer for a Scorpio like myself. Basically, telling someone like me NOT to do something is as effective as tying up a pit bull with a piece of thread. Besides, as far as I was concerned, it OBVIOUSLY was a good high, since Kevin was doing it – and trying to hide it from me.
I watched with curiosity (which I found out really DOES kill the cat, amazingly enough) (or, at the very minimum, the cat’s SPIRIT) as he took out an empty cellophane from a cigarette pack. Well, it USED to be empty, at least. Inside it now were several little whitish chunks, looking almost like stale breadcrumbs. Kevin shook out one of the pieces, and took out the glass tube again. He set the so-called “rock” (funny term because they always looked more like pebbles to me) on the screen end of the tube, and lit it for me while I put my head back and inhaled for the first time ever. I heard the sizzle and pop of the drug melting down, and felt the smoke entering my lungs.
(Whoa. Had to get my bearings back there – even over ten years later, the thought of the rush throws me a little off-kilter.) I don’t know if I can accurately describe the feeling I got from my first hit, but I can try. Intellectually, I knew I was probably in deep shit, because it was that good. It was a pretty instantaneous high, and also pretty intense. THIS was something I really enjoyed. I could feel every nerve ending on my body tingle, and my heart was beating just fast enough for me to realize it was there. My mind was filled with brilliant ideas, but formulating the words to explain them took A LOT of concentration. I felt the need to both share these feelings AND keep them to myself, an impossible task, I knew, but at the time ANYTHING seemed possible. I was floating, yet grounded; speedy, yet relaxed; terrified, yet thrilled. The drug was a paradox in itself.
Whe I focused on Kevin, I could hear him saying, “Good shit, huh?” Well, THAT was an understatement if I ever heard one. I was done. Stick a fork in me. I had FOUND what I was looking for. And here Kevin had been holding out on me for Lord knows how long. I smiled and said, “Oh, yeah. Any more?”
Kevin chuckled and took the glass pipe from my hand. “Down, girl. I think you’d better just relax a little first.” Which I did. And the high went away pretty quick. The initial high, at least. I could still feel it in my system, in my gut, making me want to do MORE. But it was early in this game, and for now I was still on top of things. I changed my mind about a second hit, and figured I could wait until another time. “It’s probably best, babe,” Kevin told me, “because the rest is supposed to be for Tom and Kathy, anyway. But we’ll party ourselves another night, ok?” Sounded good to me. He left the pipe in the room, and we walked out together. Tom and Kathy rushed in immediately after, and now I knew why.
I went home that night reliving the experience. I found it ironic that a good catholic school girl could enjoy something so taboo. I wondered what my old pals would think of me, and knew I could NEVER tell them. But I didn’t care. Because I had Kevin, and it was just for fun, after all. I wasn’t some street junkie. I had a good family, a nice home and a job. I was smart – almost straight A’s all through high school. So I screwed up in college, big deal. It wasn’t from lack of intelligence, it was because I wanted to have FUN. And this was my key. Kevin and coke. “Just for a little while.” Until I was ready to settle down. And I wasn’t ready quite yet.
My dreams that night were pretty innocent, all things considered. I saw myself and Kevin married and happy, with a house with a white picket fence and a dog in the yard. Someday, I thought, just not now. I was still young enough to take a detour for some fun first. Too bad I didn’t realize that the detour would take me places I’d never dreamed of going…
When I walked into the room Kevin was in, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He started coughing and exhaling at the same time, and the room was filled with a cloud of smoke. I wasn’t sure what to make of the whole situation, because I knew I didn’t smell pot, so I pretty much just stood there for a minute. After regaining his composure, Kevin looked at me and said, “You should go back out there.”
At this point, my confusion was giving way to irritation. He OBVIOUSLY had been hiding something from me for a while, and now all he had to say was to “go back out there?” I don’t think so. I sat on the floor defiantly and said, “Not until you tell me what you are doing.” I caught sight of him trying to hide something behind his back. “What is that?” I asked, reaching for his arm.
Kevin tried unsuccessfully to prevent me from finding the inevitable, and opened his hand to reveal a small glass tube. A small HOT glass tube. With a burnt end. Apparently he had been smoking something from it – and before I had a chance to ask him what, he said, “Dasi, you CAN’T do this. You have to leave.”
To his credit, that was probably one of the few things he said that I really SHOULD have listened to. But, naïve as I was and all full of the vim and vigor only the young and stupid possess, I refused. I insisted on knowing exactly WHAT he had been smoking, and WHY I wasn’t in on this little party. With a heavy sigh, Kevin relented. He was smoking coke, he explained, which wasn’t REALLY crack because crack is what they use in the ghettos, besides, all this was was cocaine and baking soda. But he really didn’t think it was a good idea for me to try it, because – well, just because. And that, my friends, is NEVER a good answer for a Scorpio like myself. Basically, telling someone like me NOT to do something is as effective as tying up a pit bull with a piece of thread. Besides, as far as I was concerned, it OBVIOUSLY was a good high, since Kevin was doing it – and trying to hide it from me.
I watched with curiosity (which I found out really DOES kill the cat, amazingly enough) (or, at the very minimum, the cat’s SPIRIT) as he took out an empty cellophane from a cigarette pack. Well, it USED to be empty, at least. Inside it now were several little whitish chunks, looking almost like stale breadcrumbs. Kevin shook out one of the pieces, and took out the glass tube again. He set the so-called “rock” (funny term because they always looked more like pebbles to me) on the screen end of the tube, and lit it for me while I put my head back and inhaled for the first time ever. I heard the sizzle and pop of the drug melting down, and felt the smoke entering my lungs.
(Whoa. Had to get my bearings back there – even over ten years later, the thought of the rush throws me a little off-kilter.) I don’t know if I can accurately describe the feeling I got from my first hit, but I can try. Intellectually, I knew I was probably in deep shit, because it was that good. It was a pretty instantaneous high, and also pretty intense. THIS was something I really enjoyed. I could feel every nerve ending on my body tingle, and my heart was beating just fast enough for me to realize it was there. My mind was filled with brilliant ideas, but formulating the words to explain them took A LOT of concentration. I felt the need to both share these feelings AND keep them to myself, an impossible task, I knew, but at the time ANYTHING seemed possible. I was floating, yet grounded; speedy, yet relaxed; terrified, yet thrilled. The drug was a paradox in itself.
Whe I focused on Kevin, I could hear him saying, “Good shit, huh?” Well, THAT was an understatement if I ever heard one. I was done. Stick a fork in me. I had FOUND what I was looking for. And here Kevin had been holding out on me for Lord knows how long. I smiled and said, “Oh, yeah. Any more?”
Kevin chuckled and took the glass pipe from my hand. “Down, girl. I think you’d better just relax a little first.” Which I did. And the high went away pretty quick. The initial high, at least. I could still feel it in my system, in my gut, making me want to do MORE. But it was early in this game, and for now I was still on top of things. I changed my mind about a second hit, and figured I could wait until another time. “It’s probably best, babe,” Kevin told me, “because the rest is supposed to be for Tom and Kathy, anyway. But we’ll party ourselves another night, ok?” Sounded good to me. He left the pipe in the room, and we walked out together. Tom and Kathy rushed in immediately after, and now I knew why.
I went home that night reliving the experience. I found it ironic that a good catholic school girl could enjoy something so taboo. I wondered what my old pals would think of me, and knew I could NEVER tell them. But I didn’t care. Because I had Kevin, and it was just for fun, after all. I wasn’t some street junkie. I had a good family, a nice home and a job. I was smart – almost straight A’s all through high school. So I screwed up in college, big deal. It wasn’t from lack of intelligence, it was because I wanted to have FUN. And this was my key. Kevin and coke. “Just for a little while.” Until I was ready to settle down. And I wasn’t ready quite yet.
My dreams that night were pretty innocent, all things considered. I saw myself and Kevin married and happy, with a house with a white picket fence and a dog in the yard. Someday, I thought, just not now. I was still young enough to take a detour for some fun first. Too bad I didn’t realize that the detour would take me places I’d never dreamed of going…
The Beginning of the End, Part V
Now that Kevin and I had no more secrets (well, at least that’s what I thought), things were going pretty well. Kevin was like a big kid, and we had lots of fun together. One time around Christmas, we rented all the old Christmas specials from Blockbuster, and just sat watching them together all night. Rudolph, Frosty and the Grinch were especially fun that year. Kevin even sang the Heat Miser/Cold Miser song, with dance moves and everything. We went to Kiddieland another day, and rode all the rides we weren’t too tall for. When “Silence of the Lambs” came out, we saw it together, and spent the night freaking out at his place. He wasn’t much of a bodyguard when it came to Hannibal Lecter – thank God it was only a movie!
We still partied, but only on weekends. And usually not until AFTER the bars, which looking back really made no sense at all, but whatever. I was working at a local bank at the time as a teller, and Kevin – well, let’s see. Was Kevin working? Oh, yes! He WAS working – on a beer truck. I kid you not. Of course, that didn’t last long, he seemed to have a hard time getting up in the morning (did I mention that fun as Kevin was, he WASN’T that responsible – surprise, surprise). Anyway, I was convinced that our lives were really pretty normal, and that a little partying was really no big deal. Which it wasn’t, at that time at least.
Everything was pretty under control for the first year or so, I had met his family and he had met mine, and I really thought that he would be “The One.” He had an older sister, and his father was a Chicago police sergeant, who happened to know one of my uncles. Unfortunately, my uncle didn’t think too highly of Kevin, apparently his father had mentioned several of Kevin’s not-so-pleasant qualities. But I defended him vehemently, and ignored his warnings (much like I ignored Phil’s). See, I knew the REAL Kevin, and no one else did. Not even his family.
It was around that time that Kevin introduced me to some “new” friends of his, Tom, Kathy and Glenn. He and Glenn had decided they were going to go into business together, delivering free publications to newspaper boxes. Kevin had somehow scraped up enough money to buy an old truck with a sliding side door to haul these publications, and from what I understood, Glenn had the contacts. Supposedly they were going to make a ton of money, because they would be delivering these all over the city and suburbs. Glenn seemed nice enough, but he did have a kind of odd look in his eyes. I found out that Glenn was a Vietnam vet, and had “a few” problems. But not to worry, he was a “really nice guy” and “harmless.” O-Kay. Tom and Kathy, on the other hand, were a very unique couple. They both looked a little shady, and Kathy informed me that although Tom was her boyfriend, she was engaged to this older guy who was really rich. Her plan was to keep Tom on the side until she married the rich guy and was able to divorce him, collect alimony, and then marry Tom. Again, O-Kay. Tom apparently had no problem with this whole scenario whatsoever. In fact, he seemed very proud of Kathy. Go figure.
Now, it was about this time when for a brief moment, a sliver of my mind was screaming “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING??” because, let’s face it, these were not exactly the type of people I used to hang around with at my Catholic all-girl’s high school. But although deep down inside, I knew better, the bottom line was I had fallen hook, line and sinker for Kevin and didn’t want to believe that he was anything other than wonderful.
Kevin started hanging out with Tom and Kathy more and more frequently, and he also claimed to be “working” with Glenn an awful lot. I started feeling a little neglected. But then he would call and take me out to dinner or to the bar and everything would be ok again. Occasionally, he would bring me over to Tom and Kathy’s, but there would always be a point in the evening when he would disappear into another room for a few minutes and leave me talking to them alone. Which always kind of unnerved me, because honestly, they were really weird. Then one day, I got up I the middle of Kathy’s latest story about her rich fiancée and walked into the room Kevin had disappeared into. I was sick and tired of being left out, and wanted to know what was up.
What I found became another not-so-great turning point in my life, but a turning point nonetheless. If only I had never opened that door…
We still partied, but only on weekends. And usually not until AFTER the bars, which looking back really made no sense at all, but whatever. I was working at a local bank at the time as a teller, and Kevin – well, let’s see. Was Kevin working? Oh, yes! He WAS working – on a beer truck. I kid you not. Of course, that didn’t last long, he seemed to have a hard time getting up in the morning (did I mention that fun as Kevin was, he WASN’T that responsible – surprise, surprise). Anyway, I was convinced that our lives were really pretty normal, and that a little partying was really no big deal. Which it wasn’t, at that time at least.
Everything was pretty under control for the first year or so, I had met his family and he had met mine, and I really thought that he would be “The One.” He had an older sister, and his father was a Chicago police sergeant, who happened to know one of my uncles. Unfortunately, my uncle didn’t think too highly of Kevin, apparently his father had mentioned several of Kevin’s not-so-pleasant qualities. But I defended him vehemently, and ignored his warnings (much like I ignored Phil’s). See, I knew the REAL Kevin, and no one else did. Not even his family.
It was around that time that Kevin introduced me to some “new” friends of his, Tom, Kathy and Glenn. He and Glenn had decided they were going to go into business together, delivering free publications to newspaper boxes. Kevin had somehow scraped up enough money to buy an old truck with a sliding side door to haul these publications, and from what I understood, Glenn had the contacts. Supposedly they were going to make a ton of money, because they would be delivering these all over the city and suburbs. Glenn seemed nice enough, but he did have a kind of odd look in his eyes. I found out that Glenn was a Vietnam vet, and had “a few” problems. But not to worry, he was a “really nice guy” and “harmless.” O-Kay. Tom and Kathy, on the other hand, were a very unique couple. They both looked a little shady, and Kathy informed me that although Tom was her boyfriend, she was engaged to this older guy who was really rich. Her plan was to keep Tom on the side until she married the rich guy and was able to divorce him, collect alimony, and then marry Tom. Again, O-Kay. Tom apparently had no problem with this whole scenario whatsoever. In fact, he seemed very proud of Kathy. Go figure.
Now, it was about this time when for a brief moment, a sliver of my mind was screaming “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING??” because, let’s face it, these were not exactly the type of people I used to hang around with at my Catholic all-girl’s high school. But although deep down inside, I knew better, the bottom line was I had fallen hook, line and sinker for Kevin and didn’t want to believe that he was anything other than wonderful.
Kevin started hanging out with Tom and Kathy more and more frequently, and he also claimed to be “working” with Glenn an awful lot. I started feeling a little neglected. But then he would call and take me out to dinner or to the bar and everything would be ok again. Occasionally, he would bring me over to Tom and Kathy’s, but there would always be a point in the evening when he would disappear into another room for a few minutes and leave me talking to them alone. Which always kind of unnerved me, because honestly, they were really weird. Then one day, I got up I the middle of Kathy’s latest story about her rich fiancée and walked into the room Kevin had disappeared into. I was sick and tired of being left out, and wanted to know what was up.
What I found became another not-so-great turning point in my life, but a turning point nonetheless. If only I had never opened that door…
The Beginning of the End, Part IV
(Ed. Note: Back by popular demand! Actually, back because my friend told me she wanted more of the story, and who am I to argue? If you are unfamiliar with Parts I – III, you will have to go alllllll the way back to June, which I suggest you do anyway, just as a refresher. Even I had to do that. So without further ado, let us continue…)
Well, Mitch wound up fading into my past while Kevin became a permanent fixture in my present. I really couldn’t even imagine my life without him. He always made me laugh, and more importantly, he made me feel special. At this point, I was getting to know him a little more, but there was still a part of his life I felt I didn’t have access to. There were times when he would go out alone, and never tell me where he had been. There were people that would come into the bar to meet him that he wouldn’t introduce me to. And that chick with the dark hair would occasionally still pop up, even after Kevin and I publicly became “a couple.”
Phil’s words would creep into my head every now and then, but I always forced them out. Even with all the mystery, I felt confident in my knowledge that Kevin genuinely cared about me, and figured that eventually all would be revealed. For the time being, though, I just enjoyed being someone’s girlfriend.
On my birthday, Kevin presented me with a beautiful gold necklace with little pearls going around it. I was thrilled, and Kevin seemed pleased. He told me he also wanted to get me the matching bracelet, but that I would have to wait for it. I told him he didn’t have to, and marveled at how generous he was being on my first birthday as his girlfriend. I wore that necklace everywhere, and got lots of compliments on it. The bracelet, however, never turned up. Which didn’t matter to me, anyway, although I DID wonder why he had brought it up if he had no intention of actually getting it… Then one day a few weeks later, while I was at his house, I went into his room to use the phone. There on his nightstand was a whole SPOOL of the chain used for my necklace. I kid you not. You know those kiosks in the mall that let you “custom make” jewelry? He had a spool of chain from one in his room. I didn’t know whether to laugh or be pissed. Obviously, he wasn’t able to GET the bracelet because he didn’t know how to MAKE the bracelet. Lord only knows how he made the necklace. But I didn’t mention it to him – I figured that the bottom line was, “he meant well.”
Ok, I KNOW what you are thinking. “Nobody would ever BUY the whole spool – obviously this guy is a damn THIEF!” And if you are thinking that, you are absolutely correct-o-mundo. But I didn’t care. He stole it for ME, you see. How romantic! Kevin eventually stopped even trying to hide the fact that he was a klepto (at least from me), and I used to laugh at him because he was like a raccoon or a crow – always taking anything shiny and pretty to give to me. But since the good stuff is always locked up, everything he gave me eventually either turned green itself or turned me green. No matter, because whenever that happened, he always replaced it with something new.
Also, as we became closer, I found out more about his mysterious meetings and “friends.” This was because I decided that I would just have to insist on joining him on his little ventures and would stick to him like glue when he was talking to people I didn’t know. What I found out was that Kevin apparently enjoyed to “party.” (For you naïve people out there, of which I am SURE there are several, let me clarify: Kevin indulged in illegal drugs.) Now, I was certainly no angel myself at this point, so that in itself didn’t bother me too much. In fact, I was sort of relieved that the big “mystery” was as innocuous as a little partying. Now that I knew, I was able to join him. A line here, a line there… no biggie. As far as I was concerned, we weren’t overdoing it, and Lord knows we weren’t ADDICTS or anything. It was just every now and then on the weekends. And it was only a few lines of coke. The funny thing was, apparently Kevin used to be in some sort of 12 step program (which he told me was TOTALLY unnecessary, since he was FINE) and now the guy who used to be his sponsor, Craig, would come over and party with us. Craig was a nice guy, and told me a lot about Kevin. And he also told me how much Kevin liked me, and that he really thought I was good for him. That I was such a nice girl, sooooo unlike the other girls he dated in the past. (Hmmmmm, wonder what that THAT meant? What were these old girlfriends like??) Dark haired chick would hang out with us too, turned out her name was Gail and she DID used to date Kevin, but now was with Craig. (Which I thought was odd, because she was like ten years older than me.) She told me she was only stand-offish with me because she wanted to make sure I was “good enough” for Kevin, which apparently I was. So, now there were no more secrets and all was right with our little world.
For the time being, at least. Because everyone knows “a little partying” can take place on a verrrrry slippery slope…
Well, Mitch wound up fading into my past while Kevin became a permanent fixture in my present. I really couldn’t even imagine my life without him. He always made me laugh, and more importantly, he made me feel special. At this point, I was getting to know him a little more, but there was still a part of his life I felt I didn’t have access to. There were times when he would go out alone, and never tell me where he had been. There were people that would come into the bar to meet him that he wouldn’t introduce me to. And that chick with the dark hair would occasionally still pop up, even after Kevin and I publicly became “a couple.”
Phil’s words would creep into my head every now and then, but I always forced them out. Even with all the mystery, I felt confident in my knowledge that Kevin genuinely cared about me, and figured that eventually all would be revealed. For the time being, though, I just enjoyed being someone’s girlfriend.
On my birthday, Kevin presented me with a beautiful gold necklace with little pearls going around it. I was thrilled, and Kevin seemed pleased. He told me he also wanted to get me the matching bracelet, but that I would have to wait for it. I told him he didn’t have to, and marveled at how generous he was being on my first birthday as his girlfriend. I wore that necklace everywhere, and got lots of compliments on it. The bracelet, however, never turned up. Which didn’t matter to me, anyway, although I DID wonder why he had brought it up if he had no intention of actually getting it… Then one day a few weeks later, while I was at his house, I went into his room to use the phone. There on his nightstand was a whole SPOOL of the chain used for my necklace. I kid you not. You know those kiosks in the mall that let you “custom make” jewelry? He had a spool of chain from one in his room. I didn’t know whether to laugh or be pissed. Obviously, he wasn’t able to GET the bracelet because he didn’t know how to MAKE the bracelet. Lord only knows how he made the necklace. But I didn’t mention it to him – I figured that the bottom line was, “he meant well.”
Ok, I KNOW what you are thinking. “Nobody would ever BUY the whole spool – obviously this guy is a damn THIEF!” And if you are thinking that, you are absolutely correct-o-mundo. But I didn’t care. He stole it for ME, you see. How romantic! Kevin eventually stopped even trying to hide the fact that he was a klepto (at least from me), and I used to laugh at him because he was like a raccoon or a crow – always taking anything shiny and pretty to give to me. But since the good stuff is always locked up, everything he gave me eventually either turned green itself or turned me green. No matter, because whenever that happened, he always replaced it with something new.
Also, as we became closer, I found out more about his mysterious meetings and “friends.” This was because I decided that I would just have to insist on joining him on his little ventures and would stick to him like glue when he was talking to people I didn’t know. What I found out was that Kevin apparently enjoyed to “party.” (For you naïve people out there, of which I am SURE there are several, let me clarify: Kevin indulged in illegal drugs.) Now, I was certainly no angel myself at this point, so that in itself didn’t bother me too much. In fact, I was sort of relieved that the big “mystery” was as innocuous as a little partying. Now that I knew, I was able to join him. A line here, a line there… no biggie. As far as I was concerned, we weren’t overdoing it, and Lord knows we weren’t ADDICTS or anything. It was just every now and then on the weekends. And it was only a few lines of coke. The funny thing was, apparently Kevin used to be in some sort of 12 step program (which he told me was TOTALLY unnecessary, since he was FINE) and now the guy who used to be his sponsor, Craig, would come over and party with us. Craig was a nice guy, and told me a lot about Kevin. And he also told me how much Kevin liked me, and that he really thought I was good for him. That I was such a nice girl, sooooo unlike the other girls he dated in the past. (Hmmmmm, wonder what that THAT meant? What were these old girlfriends like??) Dark haired chick would hang out with us too, turned out her name was Gail and she DID used to date Kevin, but now was with Craig. (Which I thought was odd, because she was like ten years older than me.) She told me she was only stand-offish with me because she wanted to make sure I was “good enough” for Kevin, which apparently I was. So, now there were no more secrets and all was right with our little world.
For the time being, at least. Because everyone knows “a little partying” can take place on a verrrrry slippery slope…
The Beginning of the End, Part III
Time for another installment of my miniseries. Now where was I? Oh, yes. So, he called. Which was nice, but I didn't really get my hopes up. We chatted a while, small talk, really, and he asked if I was planning on being at the bar again that weekend (of course). We hung up after making plans to see each other "whenever." Nice and easy, no strings, no drama.
It became routine that we would meet up at the bar, hang out with all our respective friends, and wind up back at his place with said friends. He started acting a bit more possessive towards me, which I found cute, considering we hadn't even had a real "date" up to this point. And at the end of every evening, there was the obligatory goodnight kiss.
Throughout this whole time, I watched and analyzed this man - still trying to figure out what exactly could be so bad about him. He was definitely over the top, always "on," with energy to spare. People seemed to like him, gravitate toward him, even, and he was always quick with a smile or a laugh. He enjoyed goofing off, and acting silly, and although sometimes it seemed a bit immature for a guy his age (24) he somehow managed to pull it off. One time he invited me over to his place instead of the bar. Since I wasn't THAT comfortable being alone with him just yet, I invited my friend along with me. He had no problem with that, so the three of us sat in his apartment watching "It" on tv. (Great flick - still freaks me out) However, Kevin kept jumping up off the couch and running into the kitchen every few minutes. Me friend was giving me really strange looks, and to be honest, I was kind of wondering what the hell he was doing, too. So I asked him. Like a little kid, he smiled and said, "Come here, I'll show you!"
My friend and I followed him into the kitchen, where he pointed to the pantry. "See that wrapper?" He pointed to a silver burger wrapper lying on the floor. We nodded - what was his point?? He then proceeded to pick up the wrapper, revealing several insects of the variety you really don't want in your house. "I put the wrapper there, it attracts the bugs, then I put them in here," he explained, holding up a mason jar with numerous buggy compadres inside. With an elaborate flourish, he swept the offending insects inside, and replaced the wrapper. "Then when I have enough, I put in some lighter fluid, and VOOOOSH! No more bugs."
(Ok, at this point I am sure there are many of you thinking that this was reason enough to just walk out the door and never come back. That a guy who catches bugs and sets them on fire probably has some major issues. On this point you would be correct, but remember, I was only 22 and like I said, there was something about him...)
My friend stood there with a mixture of confusion and disgust on her face. I, on the other hand, laughed. It just seemed so "Kevin-ish" for him to be doing this. He was actually delighted with his little plan, and enjoyed sharing it as well. I think it was at that point that my friend suggested we forego the end of the movie and head out to O'Brien's. (Apparently she had a problem with the critters.) Which we did, after Kevin said he would join us later.
My friend spent the better part of our time spent waiting for Kevin to show up trying to figure out what it was about him. Even she admitted that although she was pretty grossed out by the bugs, she still liked Kevin. And when he finally showed up, we all had a good time playing darts and drinking and talking.
A few months went by with no real dates, and so I just figured that maybe he wasn't really interested too much. Which was fine by me, although I was intrigued and amused by Kevin, I wasn't totally hooked. I started seeing other guys, one in particular. His name was Mitch. Mitch was a lot of fun, I met him (where else?) also at O'Brien's, on a night when Kevin wasn't there. My friend took a liking to his friend, and (as these things always happen) the four of us started going out on group dates. We still hung out at O'Brien's, of course, but only when Kevin wasn't there. (Kevin was still calling me, but I didn't feel it necessary to tell him about Mitch - you know, keeping my options open, as it were.) Anyway, although I abhor the cliché of what wound up happening, I must tell you it is absolutely true.
It was a Saturday night, and I had just hung up the phone with Kevin. He had told me that he had plans to meet some of his buddies that night, and wouldn’t be at the bar. Which for me meant a green light to call Mitch. After the obligatory “Oh, too bad! I’ll miss you,” crap, I made my other phone call and planned to meet Mitch with our respective friends. We got to O’Brien’s and hung out in the back playing pool. All was right with the world, we were laughing and having fun, when all of a sudden one of my bar buddies started making weird faces at me. She was motioning toward the front of the bar, and when I followed her gaze, I saw Kevin walking in with a few of his pals. (Here comes the cliché sitcom part – and believe me, it is much harder to pull off in real life.) With a quick peck on the cheek and an “I’ll be right back,” I flew up to the front to head off Kevin. “Hey, babe!” he said happily. His smile was huge, and mine was just as huge, although mine was more out of panic than joy. “I thought you weren’t coming tonight!” I exclaimed. He proceeded to tell me he missed me, and talked his friends into coming to O’Brien’s, since he knew I would be there. (All right, let me tell you, I would never be able to carry on an affair. Right there, I felt so guilty I felt sick, and I wasn’t even really dating this guy!) He gave me a kiss, and I made the suggestion that we play darts. So, he got the darts, bought me a drink, and we started the game (in more ways than one). After a few minutes, I excused myself to “go to the bathroom.”
“Hey, I was just about to go looking for you!” Mitch greeted me with. I laughed and took my turn at pool, mouthing the word “Kevin” to my friend, whose eyes got huge. Thankfully, she did a good job of covering for me the whole time. Since the pool table and Mitch were in the back of the bar, and the dart boards and Kevin were at the front of the bar, I did quite a bit of running that night. Like I said, cliché sitcom, but believe it or not, I managed to avoid being busted. Since Mitch and Kevin didn’t know each other, I just had to make sure neither of them saw the other one actually WITH me, which, hard as it was, was not impossible. Anyway, I was dog-tired by the end of this fiasco, and Mitch finally left since he had to work early the next day. I told him I was going to stay for a bit with my friend, and escorted him out the back door. (Yes, thankfully, there was a back door.) When I went back in, I was able to re-join Kevin up front, without having to take off again. For whatever reason, Kevin chose this night to be extra nice and extra attentive. By closing time, I was so mentally exhausted that when Kevin asked if I was going to come over, I declined. He walked me to my car, and kissed me good night, only this time, he looked into my eyes and said, “You know, I really like you. I missed you a lot this week.” Now, I had been back and forth in my head about how I felt about Kevin up until this point, since things were so casual, but that LOOK, I can’t really explain it. He wasn’t on, he wasn’t showing off, he was just himself. And his sincerity was sweet. As I drove off, I knew I was going to break things off with Mitch. As nice as he was, and as much fun as we had, he wasn’t Kevin, and for whatever reason I had a feeling Kevin was about to change my life. Which he definitely did…
It became routine that we would meet up at the bar, hang out with all our respective friends, and wind up back at his place with said friends. He started acting a bit more possessive towards me, which I found cute, considering we hadn't even had a real "date" up to this point. And at the end of every evening, there was the obligatory goodnight kiss.
Throughout this whole time, I watched and analyzed this man - still trying to figure out what exactly could be so bad about him. He was definitely over the top, always "on," with energy to spare. People seemed to like him, gravitate toward him, even, and he was always quick with a smile or a laugh. He enjoyed goofing off, and acting silly, and although sometimes it seemed a bit immature for a guy his age (24) he somehow managed to pull it off. One time he invited me over to his place instead of the bar. Since I wasn't THAT comfortable being alone with him just yet, I invited my friend along with me. He had no problem with that, so the three of us sat in his apartment watching "It" on tv. (Great flick - still freaks me out) However, Kevin kept jumping up off the couch and running into the kitchen every few minutes. Me friend was giving me really strange looks, and to be honest, I was kind of wondering what the hell he was doing, too. So I asked him. Like a little kid, he smiled and said, "Come here, I'll show you!"
My friend and I followed him into the kitchen, where he pointed to the pantry. "See that wrapper?" He pointed to a silver burger wrapper lying on the floor. We nodded - what was his point?? He then proceeded to pick up the wrapper, revealing several insects of the variety you really don't want in your house. "I put the wrapper there, it attracts the bugs, then I put them in here," he explained, holding up a mason jar with numerous buggy compadres inside. With an elaborate flourish, he swept the offending insects inside, and replaced the wrapper. "Then when I have enough, I put in some lighter fluid, and VOOOOSH! No more bugs."
(Ok, at this point I am sure there are many of you thinking that this was reason enough to just walk out the door and never come back. That a guy who catches bugs and sets them on fire probably has some major issues. On this point you would be correct, but remember, I was only 22 and like I said, there was something about him...)
My friend stood there with a mixture of confusion and disgust on her face. I, on the other hand, laughed. It just seemed so "Kevin-ish" for him to be doing this. He was actually delighted with his little plan, and enjoyed sharing it as well. I think it was at that point that my friend suggested we forego the end of the movie and head out to O'Brien's. (Apparently she had a problem with the critters.) Which we did, after Kevin said he would join us later.
My friend spent the better part of our time spent waiting for Kevin to show up trying to figure out what it was about him. Even she admitted that although she was pretty grossed out by the bugs, she still liked Kevin. And when he finally showed up, we all had a good time playing darts and drinking and talking.
A few months went by with no real dates, and so I just figured that maybe he wasn't really interested too much. Which was fine by me, although I was intrigued and amused by Kevin, I wasn't totally hooked. I started seeing other guys, one in particular. His name was Mitch. Mitch was a lot of fun, I met him (where else?) also at O'Brien's, on a night when Kevin wasn't there. My friend took a liking to his friend, and (as these things always happen) the four of us started going out on group dates. We still hung out at O'Brien's, of course, but only when Kevin wasn't there. (Kevin was still calling me, but I didn't feel it necessary to tell him about Mitch - you know, keeping my options open, as it were.) Anyway, although I abhor the cliché of what wound up happening, I must tell you it is absolutely true.
It was a Saturday night, and I had just hung up the phone with Kevin. He had told me that he had plans to meet some of his buddies that night, and wouldn’t be at the bar. Which for me meant a green light to call Mitch. After the obligatory “Oh, too bad! I’ll miss you,” crap, I made my other phone call and planned to meet Mitch with our respective friends. We got to O’Brien’s and hung out in the back playing pool. All was right with the world, we were laughing and having fun, when all of a sudden one of my bar buddies started making weird faces at me. She was motioning toward the front of the bar, and when I followed her gaze, I saw Kevin walking in with a few of his pals. (Here comes the cliché sitcom part – and believe me, it is much harder to pull off in real life.) With a quick peck on the cheek and an “I’ll be right back,” I flew up to the front to head off Kevin. “Hey, babe!” he said happily. His smile was huge, and mine was just as huge, although mine was more out of panic than joy. “I thought you weren’t coming tonight!” I exclaimed. He proceeded to tell me he missed me, and talked his friends into coming to O’Brien’s, since he knew I would be there. (All right, let me tell you, I would never be able to carry on an affair. Right there, I felt so guilty I felt sick, and I wasn’t even really dating this guy!) He gave me a kiss, and I made the suggestion that we play darts. So, he got the darts, bought me a drink, and we started the game (in more ways than one). After a few minutes, I excused myself to “go to the bathroom.”
“Hey, I was just about to go looking for you!” Mitch greeted me with. I laughed and took my turn at pool, mouthing the word “Kevin” to my friend, whose eyes got huge. Thankfully, she did a good job of covering for me the whole time. Since the pool table and Mitch were in the back of the bar, and the dart boards and Kevin were at the front of the bar, I did quite a bit of running that night. Like I said, cliché sitcom, but believe it or not, I managed to avoid being busted. Since Mitch and Kevin didn’t know each other, I just had to make sure neither of them saw the other one actually WITH me, which, hard as it was, was not impossible. Anyway, I was dog-tired by the end of this fiasco, and Mitch finally left since he had to work early the next day. I told him I was going to stay for a bit with my friend, and escorted him out the back door. (Yes, thankfully, there was a back door.) When I went back in, I was able to re-join Kevin up front, without having to take off again. For whatever reason, Kevin chose this night to be extra nice and extra attentive. By closing time, I was so mentally exhausted that when Kevin asked if I was going to come over, I declined. He walked me to my car, and kissed me good night, only this time, he looked into my eyes and said, “You know, I really like you. I missed you a lot this week.” Now, I had been back and forth in my head about how I felt about Kevin up until this point, since things were so casual, but that LOOK, I can’t really explain it. He wasn’t on, he wasn’t showing off, he was just himself. And his sincerity was sweet. As I drove off, I knew I was going to break things off with Mitch. As nice as he was, and as much fun as we had, he wasn’t Kevin, and for whatever reason I had a feeling Kevin was about to change my life. Which he definitely did…
The Beginning of the End, Part II
After our initial meeting that Tuesday night, I didn't run into Kevin again for about a week and a half. During this time, I told my friend about him, who laughed and told me "good luck." Despite Phil's warning (or maybe because of it), I was intrigued. I had no idea exactly what he meant by his words, and like I said, Kevin certainly had looked pretty nonthreatening.
Anyway, some time had passed, and the following Friday as I sat chatting with some friends, I saw him come in. I decided to wait to see if he would approach me, and I didn’t have to wait long. As soon as he saw me sitting there, he walked right up as if we were old pals.
I had to laugh at his brazenness. He ordered his Old Style, and we started to talk. In the midst of our conversation, several people wandered by and alternately tossed out hello’s to both him and me. Somehow, although we had both been frequenting O’Brien’s, and were both well-known there, our paths had never managed to cross before that Tuesday night. Kevin was funny, and friendly, and actually pretty entertaining. We played darts a few times, and had a few more drinks. When it was nearing closing time, he informed me that he lived “right next-door,” and that a few people from the bar would probably be coming over. (Apparently one of the bartenders, Tom, was his roommate, and he never came home without an entourage.) It sounded like fun to me, so I agreed to go.
He escorted me out the front door, and we walked to a building not quite next-door – it was actually two or three doors away. The downstairs door opened with a load creak, and we ascended steep stairs in the pitch dark. (In retrospect, and considering my current career, I have to wonder how many lawsuits could’ve been filed regarding those stairs.) The apartment itself was nice, nothing fancy, just a typical unit above a vacant storefront on the NW side of Chicago. Two bedrooms, a living room, a hallway/dining room (in which was installed a bar), a kitchen and a bathroom. Sitting in the living room were a few people I recognized, and a couple I didn’t. When Kevin and I walked in, all eyes turned to us. One pair, belonging to a petite woman with dark hair, seemed to burn right through me.
Kevin went to get us each a drink, and I sat down on the arm of one of the chairs. “So,” drawled the petite woman, “how do you know Kevin?” I explained that we had just met, that I actually didn’t know him at all, and that seemed to satisfy her. But I was getting a pretty bad feeling about the whole thing. The last thing I had planned to do was invade another woman’s territory. And the way she had looked at me, I got the feeling that she may have been part of the “bad news” Phil had warned me about.
Despite my sense of unease, when Kevin returned with our beers, I was able to relax a bit and enjoy the company. (Some of it, at least.) Kevin turned out to be the type of person who gets along with everyone, just watching him work the room and keep people talking and laughing brought a smile to my face. When I decided that I had better get going, he walked me all the way back to my car. When we got there, I turned around to say goodbye and thanks, but was surprised by a kiss. Not a bad thing, but I was caught completely off-guard. Once the kiss ended, he asked for my number, and I somehow managed to find a piece of paper in my purse and scribbled what I hoped was a legible copy of my number. He smiled, gave me another quick peck on the lips, and darted back to his apartment.
I drove home with a smile on my face, and still was clueless as to what could possibly be wrong with this guy. Unless the woman at his place was his girlfriend (or worse, his wife!) and he was guilty of two-timing, he really gave me no reason to think anything bad of him. So I shelved the advice in the recesses of my mind, and decided to see what would happen with Kevin. Maybe he’d call, maybe he wouldn’t, but if he did, I’d go for it. And in the meantime, I’d just continue on with my life.
Well, he did call. And the exact details of where things went from there would take fifty blogs to even scratch the surface of. I spent the next four years of my life with him – and Phil was right to warn me. Despite the fact that deep down, he was a really good hearted guy, he had several – shall we say, “character defects” that I in my naivete was convinced I could correct. How I found out about these defects and where they lead me will continue in Part III...
Anyway, some time had passed, and the following Friday as I sat chatting with some friends, I saw him come in. I decided to wait to see if he would approach me, and I didn’t have to wait long. As soon as he saw me sitting there, he walked right up as if we were old pals.
I had to laugh at his brazenness. He ordered his Old Style, and we started to talk. In the midst of our conversation, several people wandered by and alternately tossed out hello’s to both him and me. Somehow, although we had both been frequenting O’Brien’s, and were both well-known there, our paths had never managed to cross before that Tuesday night. Kevin was funny, and friendly, and actually pretty entertaining. We played darts a few times, and had a few more drinks. When it was nearing closing time, he informed me that he lived “right next-door,” and that a few people from the bar would probably be coming over. (Apparently one of the bartenders, Tom, was his roommate, and he never came home without an entourage.) It sounded like fun to me, so I agreed to go.
He escorted me out the front door, and we walked to a building not quite next-door – it was actually two or three doors away. The downstairs door opened with a load creak, and we ascended steep stairs in the pitch dark. (In retrospect, and considering my current career, I have to wonder how many lawsuits could’ve been filed regarding those stairs.) The apartment itself was nice, nothing fancy, just a typical unit above a vacant storefront on the NW side of Chicago. Two bedrooms, a living room, a hallway/dining room (in which was installed a bar), a kitchen and a bathroom. Sitting in the living room were a few people I recognized, and a couple I didn’t. When Kevin and I walked in, all eyes turned to us. One pair, belonging to a petite woman with dark hair, seemed to burn right through me.
Kevin went to get us each a drink, and I sat down on the arm of one of the chairs. “So,” drawled the petite woman, “how do you know Kevin?” I explained that we had just met, that I actually didn’t know him at all, and that seemed to satisfy her. But I was getting a pretty bad feeling about the whole thing. The last thing I had planned to do was invade another woman’s territory. And the way she had looked at me, I got the feeling that she may have been part of the “bad news” Phil had warned me about.
Despite my sense of unease, when Kevin returned with our beers, I was able to relax a bit and enjoy the company. (Some of it, at least.) Kevin turned out to be the type of person who gets along with everyone, just watching him work the room and keep people talking and laughing brought a smile to my face. When I decided that I had better get going, he walked me all the way back to my car. When we got there, I turned around to say goodbye and thanks, but was surprised by a kiss. Not a bad thing, but I was caught completely off-guard. Once the kiss ended, he asked for my number, and I somehow managed to find a piece of paper in my purse and scribbled what I hoped was a legible copy of my number. He smiled, gave me another quick peck on the lips, and darted back to his apartment.
I drove home with a smile on my face, and still was clueless as to what could possibly be wrong with this guy. Unless the woman at his place was his girlfriend (or worse, his wife!) and he was guilty of two-timing, he really gave me no reason to think anything bad of him. So I shelved the advice in the recesses of my mind, and decided to see what would happen with Kevin. Maybe he’d call, maybe he wouldn’t, but if he did, I’d go for it. And in the meantime, I’d just continue on with my life.
Well, he did call. And the exact details of where things went from there would take fifty blogs to even scratch the surface of. I spent the next four years of my life with him – and Phil was right to warn me. Despite the fact that deep down, he was a really good hearted guy, he had several – shall we say, “character defects” that I in my naivete was convinced I could correct. How I found out about these defects and where they lead me will continue in Part III...
The Beginning of the End, Part I
Author’s Note: Due to the fact that: a) it is Friday, b) we are very slow, c) I am all caught up on my work, and d) Satan (my boss) is still here, I have to (at the very least) pretend to be working. Which is why I am going to write a second blog for today. At least if I am typing it will look like I am working. And I am really tired of pretending to look for files and re-reading medical records of clients. Thank you for your support.
If you have any trust in me, you will have read the blogs I link to here, and should have read Shady Dreams by now. If not, I will preface by saying that Timmortal’s blog on his “Cheers” bar made me reflect on my own “Cheers.” In proper blog courtesy, I therefore must begin by saying that this is actually a spinoff blog, if you will, and add that even so, my blog will not be ending with any half naked women sprawled anywhere. (Sorry to those of you who care.)
My local bar was O’Brien’s. At least, that’s what it became. It was originally Shark Club, and when it was, it was your typical seedy neighborhood tavern. Not many people went there, they preferred the more upbeat, cover-charging dj spinning bar across the street. But I was more of a beer-and-shot gal myself, and Shark Club had a jukebox, a pool table, and a dartboard, so it worked out well for me. A few months after I started frequenting Shark Club, it was bought out by two guys who closed it down for about a month to remodel. Really bummer time for me, I had to suffer at numerous other bars waiting for “my” bar to reopen. I knew the guys who had bought it out, and they planned on trying to attract a “younger” crowd. (Since I was only 21 myself, that sounded fine by me.) It finally reopened, and honestly didn’t look much different. They had kept the jukebox, pool table and dart boards, but added a small dj booth (for weekends only), some mirrored walls, and fresh paint. And, of course, the sign out front. Gone was the Shark Club – in it’s place was O’Brien’s.
My girlfriend and I would go there on the weekends, and since at that time I was working at a local bank, I would go every Tuesday night since I had Wednesdays off. I got to know the bartenders, Tom and Phil, and John the dj. My friend and I would typically arrive early on the weekends and claim our seats at the bar, socializing with pretty much anyone who came in. Tuesday nights were different though, those were my nights to chat with Phil, play MY music on the jukebox, and just mellow out.
Not many other people went to bars on Tuesday nights, and I liked it like that. But there was one Tuesday that changed my life forever – (insert foreboding music here).
As usual, I arrived at the bar around 10:30 or so. I sat down at the bar and Phil automatically gave me my Miller Lite and hunkered down to chat. There were a few people in the back of the bar playing pool, and a couple guys just hanging out, but as usual, the place was pretty dead. I had a couple more Lites and then the music stopped on the jukebox. So, I stood up and went to pick out my songs for the night, dollar bills in hand. As I stood there, staring at the songs I already knew by heart, I got that weird sensation of someone watching. I concentrated through my mild beer haze on pressing the numbers to a couple songs, and then finally looked up. Sure enough, a guy in glasses was standing there next to the jukebox, holding an Old Style and grinning at me. Now, at 21 I had perfected the “what the hell do YOU want?” look, and this was the perfect time to use it. But he caught me off guard when he took a swig of his beer and then commented, “Now I know why I stayed here so long tonight, I was waiting for YOU to walk in.”
Ok, I absolutely KNOW that is the corniest, most ridiculous line ever uttered, but for some reason, rather than scoffing at him, I laughed. Not the “God, you’re a moron” laugh, either. He turned and walked back to his buddies, and left me standing there. I turned back around and finished picking my songs, and went back to my seat at the bar. Still with a smile on my face. But when I sat down, Phil came over, shaking his head in dismay. “What?” I asked defensively. “Don’t do it, Dasi,” he warned. “That guy is bad news.” “Yeah, but he’s kind of cute.”
Apparently, Phil was well aware of the charms of Mr. Bad-Come-On, because he gave up even trying to dissuade me. And I, meanwhile, sipped my beer and watched him at the back of the bar. Near closing time, he finally approached me again. This time, he introduced himself properly. “I’m Kevin,” he said, hand extended. When I slipped my hand into his and introduced myself, our eyes met. Strange as it sounds, right then I felt that this would be something life-altering for both of us, and I was right. But on that particular night, the very first night, we both went our separate ways without even an exchange of phone numbers. And barely more than a few words spoken between us.
As I watched him leave with his buddies, Phil cleared his throat. “Closing time, Dasi. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I turned to smile at Phil, then got up and left. “See ya Friday, Phil.”
I wondered why Phil was so freaked out by such a harmless looking guy in glasses so thick they would probably break the floor before breaking themselves. How bad could he be? I thought. Believe me, I eventually found out.
To be continued…
If you have any trust in me, you will have read the blogs I link to here, and should have read Shady Dreams by now. If not, I will preface by saying that Timmortal’s blog on his “Cheers” bar made me reflect on my own “Cheers.” In proper blog courtesy, I therefore must begin by saying that this is actually a spinoff blog, if you will, and add that even so, my blog will not be ending with any half naked women sprawled anywhere. (Sorry to those of you who care.)
My local bar was O’Brien’s. At least, that’s what it became. It was originally Shark Club, and when it was, it was your typical seedy neighborhood tavern. Not many people went there, they preferred the more upbeat, cover-charging dj spinning bar across the street. But I was more of a beer-and-shot gal myself, and Shark Club had a jukebox, a pool table, and a dartboard, so it worked out well for me. A few months after I started frequenting Shark Club, it was bought out by two guys who closed it down for about a month to remodel. Really bummer time for me, I had to suffer at numerous other bars waiting for “my” bar to reopen. I knew the guys who had bought it out, and they planned on trying to attract a “younger” crowd. (Since I was only 21 myself, that sounded fine by me.) It finally reopened, and honestly didn’t look much different. They had kept the jukebox, pool table and dart boards, but added a small dj booth (for weekends only), some mirrored walls, and fresh paint. And, of course, the sign out front. Gone was the Shark Club – in it’s place was O’Brien’s.
My girlfriend and I would go there on the weekends, and since at that time I was working at a local bank, I would go every Tuesday night since I had Wednesdays off. I got to know the bartenders, Tom and Phil, and John the dj. My friend and I would typically arrive early on the weekends and claim our seats at the bar, socializing with pretty much anyone who came in. Tuesday nights were different though, those were my nights to chat with Phil, play MY music on the jukebox, and just mellow out.
Not many other people went to bars on Tuesday nights, and I liked it like that. But there was one Tuesday that changed my life forever – (insert foreboding music here).
As usual, I arrived at the bar around 10:30 or so. I sat down at the bar and Phil automatically gave me my Miller Lite and hunkered down to chat. There were a few people in the back of the bar playing pool, and a couple guys just hanging out, but as usual, the place was pretty dead. I had a couple more Lites and then the music stopped on the jukebox. So, I stood up and went to pick out my songs for the night, dollar bills in hand. As I stood there, staring at the songs I already knew by heart, I got that weird sensation of someone watching. I concentrated through my mild beer haze on pressing the numbers to a couple songs, and then finally looked up. Sure enough, a guy in glasses was standing there next to the jukebox, holding an Old Style and grinning at me. Now, at 21 I had perfected the “what the hell do YOU want?” look, and this was the perfect time to use it. But he caught me off guard when he took a swig of his beer and then commented, “Now I know why I stayed here so long tonight, I was waiting for YOU to walk in.”
Ok, I absolutely KNOW that is the corniest, most ridiculous line ever uttered, but for some reason, rather than scoffing at him, I laughed. Not the “God, you’re a moron” laugh, either. He turned and walked back to his buddies, and left me standing there. I turned back around and finished picking my songs, and went back to my seat at the bar. Still with a smile on my face. But when I sat down, Phil came over, shaking his head in dismay. “What?” I asked defensively. “Don’t do it, Dasi,” he warned. “That guy is bad news.” “Yeah, but he’s kind of cute.”
Apparently, Phil was well aware of the charms of Mr. Bad-Come-On, because he gave up even trying to dissuade me. And I, meanwhile, sipped my beer and watched him at the back of the bar. Near closing time, he finally approached me again. This time, he introduced himself properly. “I’m Kevin,” he said, hand extended. When I slipped my hand into his and introduced myself, our eyes met. Strange as it sounds, right then I felt that this would be something life-altering for both of us, and I was right. But on that particular night, the very first night, we both went our separate ways without even an exchange of phone numbers. And barely more than a few words spoken between us.
As I watched him leave with his buddies, Phil cleared his throat. “Closing time, Dasi. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I turned to smile at Phil, then got up and left. “See ya Friday, Phil.”
I wondered why Phil was so freaked out by such a harmless looking guy in glasses so thick they would probably break the floor before breaking themselves. How bad could he be? I thought. Believe me, I eventually found out.
To be continued…
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