What can I say...I am inspired. I have been feeling very creative lately since my personal life has been dragging a bit in the fun and naughty department. And...I am bored at work, with no clients to call on today because everyone with a brain and leftover vacation days is at home chillin. I have the brain...what I lack is the vacation day.
UGH.
SO onward and forward to The Ex-Philes Part 5.
Matthew and my time in Bloomington.
After my mom passed away I spent some time living in her trailer where she was born and raised. This is a commuting Caterpillar town where there are 4 taverns, 1 church, and 300 total people. The taverns close at 10pm and the nearest grocery and gas station is 8 miles away. Needless to say, I was bored out of my mind being single at the time. There were no men...and the ones that were single had to spit into their collective chew cups between each sentence.
Gun and Game has never been my forte.
I moved there to feel closer to my mom, whom I dearly love and miss everyday...to this day.
I guess I never counted on needing a social life again.
About 3 months into this...I couldn't stand it anymore and put the trailer up for sale and trol-lee-lolled my socially needy ass to Bloomington.
My best friend "S" lives there and I had always been curious about actually living there anyway.
It made logical sense.
I found a great (albeit expensive) apartment, a roommate, (she was nasty as hell...more on this another time perhaps) and a job working at my best friends sisters gas station as a clerk.
I hated the job, no surprise...but couldn't- not work, with the pricey apartment.
As I was working my dull shift in the little gas station I used to listen to I-97 Modern Rock, and there was a jock there named "Hot Carl" (yes, I know the connotation...and he was aware as well and actually liked the name...why, I couldn't tell you...ewwwww...)
Anyway, I called in one night to request a song and we began talking. He was deperately trying to pick up chicks in his radio jock way. I'll be honest...I was interested. He had a nice voice, and he was intelligent. I agreed to come to the studio when I got off work one night to meet him. I pulled up and he was outside smoking...his real name was Jason, and Jason was very much unlike his sexy voice. He was 5'8 at most, scrawny and had weird, coarse, wild hair. He definitely had a face for radio, if you catch my drift.
Shunning his advances, we ended up being friends and he suggested that I apply for a sales job at the station. I scoffed at the idea...I had no experience, or degree...why would they want to hire me???
Apparently they were desperate, because I got the job...on the spot.
I was trained for the position and soon was outselling everyone else in the place. I was making phat cash and was living the radio lifestyle. I hosted live remotes, and everyone knew me as the chick that works at I-97. I realized that it doesn't take much to impress mid-westerners, and was being literally flooded with party invites, date requests, and everything in between...including puppy dog eyes and pleading for tickets to concerts.
That part sucked, I might add.
I was hosting a remote one night and feeling very full of myself weighing which hot guy I was going to hang with on that particular evening. (By the way...this is NOT fiction...I was more popular with the men when I lived in Bloomington than I have been anywhere else...I was having a fantastic time!)
I was helping the jock set up the P.A. when I looked over in the corner.
There was a guy standing there in a White Zombie T-shirt taking to a friend.
They were BOTH really hawt...but there was something about the White Zombie guy that just pulled me in.
White Zombie guy caught me staring at him and smiled a delicious smile at me. I literally blushed, and dropped the $3000 Peavey Equalizer I was holding to the ground.
The jock cursed me and and I apologetically helped him pick it all up and set it right. Luckily there was no damage.
White Zombie then dissapeared from eyesight. I shrugged, and went back to being "important"
I sat there while people rushed to my table to sign up for the Red Hot Chili Pepper tickets we were giving away, and I simply could not get White Zombie guy out of my head. That impossible big sexy smile...it was mesmerizing. He had shoulder length wavy hair, he was tattooed up and down both arms, he was equally pierced everywhere...tongue, lip, brow, labret, bridge of nose, ears...
He had a thin, but muscular body, toned and very sinuous. Note the word "sin" there...that was no accident.
I had a thing for the rock-look at the time...and this guy was the epitome of that.
I was besotted.
I didn't see White Zombie guy for the rest of the night, and was thouroughly disapointed. But, I figured I knew he was here once...he would be again at some point, and perhaps I could run into him "accidentally-on purpose" again.
I dreamt about him that night and it was dirty and awesome...just the way I prefer my dreams.
The next day was Saturday and I had plans to go to a big hard-rock show out in cornfield in Leroy, IL. I was excited since this was a camp-out event. I could take a break from work and just be in my element. I was thrilled about getting hammered and hanging with my best friend. (Her husband plays in a screamo ::or death metal...for those not saavy:: band. ) and was invited to play the 15 band show.
I set up my tent and was enjoying the music and the beer.
Just then I got up to use the facilities, when directly ahead of me-pumping the keg and cursing was White Zombie guy. This time in a Korn shirt. This time looking even better that the night before, if that was possible. I almost fell over my tent stake trying to look non-chalant. (What can I say, he made my normally graceful self go all clumsy and stupid...)
Let me give you a visual...
White Zombie/Korn guy looked exactly like Chad Kroeger (the lead singer of Nickelback)
Big nose, same hair, same body type, same delicious smile.
Now, let me remind you that I was going through a phase at the time. I despise long hair now, and my tastes run a tad more conservative these days. Although...I DO still like to see a guy with his nipples pierced and a few scattered tattoos, the sutblety is sexy. And before you wonder...no- Doug is not pierced, but he does have a stragetically placed tattoo...which is yummy.
Ok...moving on.
I tried to cover up my stumble and walk past him behaving as if I had never seen him before, when he reached out and grabbed my arm as I passed. I quickly turned and he was smiling at me. He looked at me teasingly and said: "I figured I would hold you up since every time I see you you are dropping something or tripping on your own feet..."
I turned 10 shades of purple and walked away.
He had seen me drop the amp...the spaz-moment I was hoping he hadn't caught.
He just chuckled as I walked away.
I was still a little shocked that he was there, and now I was mortified that he had seen me almost fall....again. UGH.
Later in the evening I was standing up watching my best friends husband tear up the stage and I saw White Zombie/Korn guy moshing around in the pit.
He looked fierce with his hair back in a pony tail and his muscular arms pushing off the next guy, and the next guy.
I was seriosuly into this guy...no doubt about it.
I wasn't sure why I was...I mean, I am not exaggerating when I say that I had my choice of swingin pud that year.
I was quite a bit thinner than I am now, I had a good job, sweet-ass apartment, and a little money to throw around.
I seemingly had it all.
But this guy, he was killing me...
After the music ended and people were pairing up, or even grouping up (this was a wild party)
I retreated to my tent, alone.
I was tired and drunk and needed to crash.
I had to pee though...and sauntered over to the ladies to get that last bit o beer out before drunken slumber.
Standing there, talking to the same guy he was at the bar was the guy...again.
He was sweaty, and muddy, and his Korn shirt now read "orn" where someone had ripped off the k part in the mosh pit.
But he still looked damn good to me.
My drunken bravado gave me courage, so I stopped to talk to him.
He smiled at me again.
Me: "Are we having fun?"
He: "Well, that depends..."
Me: "On what?"
(trying to put on my best flirtatious grin here)
He: "Depends on you, I guess...wanna have some fun?"
Me: (dumbstruck)
He: "You ok?"
Me: "Um...sure...I'm sorry...I think I am pretty wasted."
He: (laughing)
Me: (Still dumbstruck)
He: "Let's go have some fun..."
With this, he grabbed my hand and took me to my tent. He had to have been watching me as well, because how else would he know where it was?
He sat in the lawnchair next to mine and we just talked...it was almost daylight when we decided to take a walk.
Needless to say, we ended up behind the grain bin making out...but I digress.
Matthew Douglas Murray...
That was his real name and he was a total drug addict and poster child for A.A.
Still...he could kiss like a mad man and the sex...oh my...the sex was on of my top 3 with no exceptions.
That tongue ring was there for a purpose...not just fancy looks. AHEM.
Literally two weeks after I met Matt, he was moving in with me.
He gave me my very first tattoo, which Is my favorite to this day...it is a white gerber daisy on my right ankle.
I loved him...wow...he was a big love, no doubt.
But alas...all good things must come to an end and I soon began to see the dark side of Matt, which wasn't pretty...at all.
He wouldn't work...
He borrowed money from me for pot....which he never paid back.
He would stay out all night long, and would just say that he passed out in his buddies car.
I was supporting his habit, and he was eating away at my money.
The bad part?
I was enabling him to do so.
April was the month I met him and by this time, August was fast approaching. I had saved a bit of money to go on vacation to Disney World with my brother and his in-laws. I asked Matt if he wanted to come with and he had no desire. He claimed it was too hot and he wasn't interested in Disney World...it was for kids.
I just shrugged and figued...his loss.
In this time my apartment had become too expensive for me, as I was supporting another person now...so Matthew had a friend named Rob. (The guy I always saw him talking to) who had a trailer we could rent. Rob said he was moving in with his girlfriend and wanted to sub-let it to us for only $100 a month. It was great timing, as I was getting flat broke at an exceedingly crazy pace. I put in my notice to my landlords for the Monday I was to return from Florida. Matthew was in charge of packing the place for me if he wasn't planning to come along with me.
He agreed...IF he could use my car while I was gone.
I begrudgingly agreed...even though I knew he drove like a maniac.
I kissed him goodbye and gave him a list of things to accomplish for the move while I was gone and went to enjoy sunny Mickey land.
I called him everyday to check in...no answer.
Finally, I called his buddy Rob and he told me that Matt had gone home for a few days in my car. Home was Pontiac, IL.
I told Rob that if he heard from him to have him call me asap.
I wasn't mad at him...I guess I just wished he would have told me he was taking my car to Pontiac.
I called his Grandma's house (home) and his brother was cryptic. He wouldn't give me any info, and I began to worry.
When I returned home...Matt was still gone...with my car.
I was getting past worried/concerned-moving right into pissed off.
Not ony was my car missing, my boyfriend was missing, and NOTHING had been done at the apartment. Nothing at all.
I had to move in two days...and nothing was touched.
I was LIVID at this point.
Finally, that evening I got ahold of his brother again, and this is the speech I got.
"Matt doesn't want to be with you anymore ...he said to just stay away from him, and he will call you when he is ready."
I sat there on the other end of the line...mouth agape.
I quietly surrendered, figuring that he would come to his senses and call later and ask to come home.
Not a peep.
Meanwhile, my car is still gone.
I asked my best friend to come take me to Pontiac the following day to retrieve my car, when she came to pick me up...my car was in the lot...keys in the seat.
No note, no nothin.
And now...I had ONE day to move, and absolutely no place to go.
His buddy Rob said that I was still welcome to rent his place if I wanted and he actually brought his trailer and helped me move. I guess he felt sorry for me.
he had no explanation either...Matthew just dissapeared and Rob hadn't heard from him either.
Needless to say...he was kinda pissed off at this point as well.
I moved in and was still dumbfounded.
He left me high and dry, and wouldn't even explain why.
Devaststed.
I really did love his triflin ass...and this was the thanks I got?
WOW.
What a D-Bag.
By New Years Eve of that year I had still not heard from him, and I moved in with another roommate in a nicer place.
I went out that year, to the same bar I met him in almost a year before with my friends.
When out of the bathroom, here he strolls in.
I just froze.
He approached me with a smile and a hug and I stood there, frozen...cold.
He smiled that smile at me and the frost melted away just enough to say hello.
All night he hung around me, and I was still really eager to ask him what the hell happened.
But I waited...patiently.
Yes...we went home together that night.
And we had great sex.
And I finally asked him why he bailed out on me like that.
His answer: (the very one cursed by all dumped flat women everywhere) "I was scared...I loved you too much."
I hugged him and rolled my eyes and fell asleep.
The following morning I woke up to him stroking my hair and looking down at me lovingly.
I looked back at him and stretched.
He: "So...what do we do now?"
Me: "Meaning?"
He: "Well...us, of course..."
Me: (confused look)
He: "I never stopped for one second loving you...I want you back...I think I have resolved all my issues now, and I think we can really be together now...I love you. So...what do you say???"
I couldn't help but pity him a little, those hershey kisses colored eyes, that hopeful smile.
But...my anger and my dignity proved to be much stronger than his charm, or his everlasting sexual prowess.
Me: " I don't think so...I had a good time last night, and maybe you could give me a call sometime, but I don't love you like that anymore. That reminds me...I have to be somewhere in like an hour and I have to take a shower, so you need to probably get going."
He: (His turn to be dumbstruck...confused)
Me: "Oh come on Matthew...You didn't really think we were going to get back together after this, did you...geez talk about naive!" (rolling my eyes...painting on the blatant cruelty)
He: (Still dumbstruck)
Me: "I really have to go...I had fun, call me sometime, k?"
He then got up, seemingly in a daze and asked if I could give him a ride.
I aksed him to where?
He said...and I swear I couldn't make this up...
Pontiac.
I laughed and said...nope, I didn't have enough time and that he could use my phone to call someone of he wanted.
He then threw on his clothes and sauntered out the door into the snow...walking to where, I wasn't sure. But, I let him go anyway.
I cried for an hour after he left. (I'm not a complete cold-hearted beotch.)
Closure.
You see??? I told you they all come back.
But he didn't deserve me, and I knew it.
Last I heard he had gotten a girl pregnant-with twins. HA HA HA HA.
And they were living in Joliet somehwhere.
Gotta love karma like that.
Still doesn't erase him as one of my big loves...for sure.
I am not sure why I fell so hard for him...but I did, and he really damaged me.
But, in the long run I learned the hard way about leeches, and how to spot them ahead of time.
So I did, in fact take something away from it afterall.
Last thought-
"Love is an exploding cigar we willingly smoke."
-Lynda Barry
-Lynda Barry
Still smoking-
Jaded
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