Note: This post was written in 2007 and I was in a different place mentally and emotionally. The recovery I’ve been through from 2022 on has changed my views on a lot of things, and I can critique myself effectively. I’ll do that in a modernized version of this post which I will link when it is complete. Please take my lack of recovery into account when you read this.

When last we left me, I was checked into a hotel room just after being escorted out of my marital home.  It was a pretty shitty night all around.  It didn’t occur to me how desperate and dumb she’d become.  The reason she had done what she did was not any knowledge of my infidelity: it was that I had deactivated the computers and internet service in the house and she wanted the freedom to continue to correspond to her online boyfriends.  When this became apparent, I knew I had her trapped.

She hired a militant lawyer – one of the feminazi types who are very *shrill* in the courtroom.  This seems scary at first, but I was pretty sure that any such lawyer wouldn’t find favor with a  judge, and I turned out to be right.  Ironically, we had a female judge, but I’m moving on too fast.  My lawyer was named Richard Tomasik.  He was an ex-NJ state trooper and still looked it.  He had a no bullshit attitude and wore horrible shoes.  Strangely, Richard let me run with the first hearing and let me devise our strategy rather than suggesting one of his own.  I think he made the right choice, but it’s unusual for a lawyer to concede control of the outcome like that.  Maybe he just liked my idea.

The Lay of the Land

The situation was thus; I’d had a civil complaint sworn out against me.  The complaint was a pack of lies, but to discredit it required me to be 100% believable and also required some luck.  I had 2 weeks to prepare for the hearing basically.  Note also that she hadn’t filed for divorce because she didn’t want to get divorced.  She just wanted me back on the reservation and under her control, not gone. 

Her turn came.  Her lawyer talked about how I was a horrible abusive person. The lawyer droned on about all kinds of incidents which were easy to calmly explain how they were being misconstrued.  Mary threw a monitor at me one night. The lawyer brought this up.  She started beating me with her fists after that.  I held her arms back and gave her a bruise on her upper arm about the size and shape of my thumb.  Fancy that!  That was somehow proof I was abusive.  

Another one was when she was leaning back in the car from the passenger seat, I turned and elbowed her trying to reach into the backseat as well.  Clumsy?  Yes.  Abusive, no, if caring for your kids isn’t abusive.  Also, one of her girlfriends failed to show.  The girlfriend was going to testify about how bad I was.  I think she didn’t want to lie, so she failed to show until after the hearing was over.

Evidence

All the pictures of the slovenly house and the depiction of her poor child care were gone.  However, I did have one thing working for me.  ISP records of her connect time via modem.  I solicited these.  I brought them with me.  The records were accepted into evidence.  I put on my suit and did my perfect interview pose, even down to the blue suit.  I explained patiently in my best support voice how she spent 18-20 hours a day online, and how if she weren’t at the computer the line would disconnect in 15 minutes (ISP policy, actually true).    That meant she had to be there.  I questioned how she was caring for children and also spending every waking hour, plus, online.  

The judge ripped her a new asshole both from the bench and in her ruling.  Her complaint was dismissed in its entirety, choice quote, “This wasn’t about abuse, this was about your computer access!”.  No new support order was entered.  For all intents and purposes I did not have to pay her any cash.  My lawyer instructed me to continue making payments, which I did.  However, I was under no compulsion to do so until much later.

The Agony of Defeat

Her mother was waiting for me outside the courtroom, screaming at the top of her lungs about how much I sucked and how bad I was as a person.  Tomasik stood between us and told me calmly, “Kevin, go downstairs, I’ll meet you there.”.   Then, he began (I only heard about half of this) calmly turning her into shreds of flesh in that cop voice of his which he rarely used (I have never seen another lawyer so spare with words in a courtroom, he only spoke when he absolutely had to, and judges seemed to appreciate this).  Something about calling the bailiff and a contempt charge for her was part of what I heard.  She was careful to stay in line after this and never troubled me again.

This was only half the evil that I had in store for Mary that day.  I had been insistent that Tomasik time a delivery of a suit for divorce to her on the same day as the court hearing, and she had it waiting for her when she got home.  So much for their ‘well thought-out’ plan.  I understand Mary was crushed, and I’m glad.

Alexia Arrives

I was very happy that my name was restored, in any event.  We had also arranged for Alexia to come stay with me in my new apartment that I’d secured by May 1; Alex literally showed up the afternoon of the day of the hearing and we made love right on the kitchen linoleum – we had no furniture – the moment she arrived.  She just basically moved in and I didn’t mind one bit, I needed her for moral support.  I don’t think she took into account that she was playing rebound girl for me, but she was.

The first few nights she was there were some of the happiest of my life.  Playing house with someone who you don’t have any ill thoughts about is very pleasant.   Our apartment smelled of curry from the Indian couple downstairs, and we had little in the way of furniture except some stuff I got for $100 from someone my sister knew.   Still, we had a lot of fun just making dinner and cuddling up in bed.

I have to admit I should have realized she was not motivated for anything but the bare minimums before this point, but this was my first unvarnished clue that all was not right with her.  The fact that she’d travel from Sacramento CA to be with me…ok, I can buy that if I think highly of myself.  NYC was right around the corner though, I worked there.  Why not try to get a writing gig or intern somewhere that she could learn something – hell, get the coffee for one of the productions there, who cares.  It wasn’t about the money anyway, her salary was relatively small compared to mine anyway and I didn’t mind.

Storm Clouds on the Horizon

She chose to pursue a get rich quick scheme, one of those things where they start calling you an executive and then expect you to pay them money at some point during your ‘training’.   It was a MLM scheme basically.  I told her this the 2nd day after hearing the things they were saying to her.  She didn’t believe it until she was about 3 weeks in.  Suitably abashed, she gave up and got a job as a receptionist.  Failing to pursue your dreams is a horrible thing, and I couldn’t talk her out of it.

The dark clouds really started forming just after July 4th.  We were both working, and we had some friends from Sweden staying over for a night on their trip through the US. Our friends were heading down to DC after they left us.  This was the first night she didn’t want to make love, and made no bones about it at all.  Wasn’t interested at all.  I told her I loved her.  She said, “No, you don’t.”.  

I thought about it the next day and realized that this girl had huge self-esteem issues and was literally waiting for the hammer to fall, for me to discover her as she saw herself and then dump her.  Ladies, this is not attractive, I’m sorry.  I usually close my eyes quite a bit during sex, just enjoying myself, I’m a bit of a hedonist.  But I made a point of examining her carefully after that and she had this look in her eyes like almost fear, like maybe she wasn’t doing it well enough or something.  Deer in the headlights stare. 

Fucking Mary Again

Around this time, Mary started actively trying to get me back.  Basically, I would come over to drop off a check with her and she’d throw me in a chair and blow me or be in the shower when I came with the front door open a crack and the kids in bed.   I have to admit, I couldn’t resist. Mary was a great lay. Particularly compared to Alex who pretty much just laid there for you and didn’t take any action, and barely made a sound.  

Mary rolls her head, moans, stares in your eyes, shoves her tongue down your throat, grabs your balls from under her body, wraps her legs around you and pulls you into her, licks your nipples while you’re pounding her.   And is powerfully orgasmic, so much so that you can feel it’s real by every muscle in her body contracting at once.  Basically spoiled me for life.

Banging Them Both Out

During this time period I had my ‘sex with two women in one night’ experience.  Mary did me something fierce early on in the night and I got home and Alex wanted some, so I did it again.  I felt rather sleazy at the time but it was just symptomatic of how screwed up life was then.  I only did that once: I made sure in the future that the situation never recurred.

Mary would ask me to stay but I refused.  No matter how good the sex was, I couldn’t forgive her for what she did.   This got her more and more frustrated over time, which made her try more and more interesting sexual stuff.  Probably the best sex I ever had was during this time frame, but more on that later.

Relationship Ending

I stopped asking Alex for sex much as a result. This ended our sex life because Alex wasn’t really interested all that much.  Then she quit her job for some unknown reason.  I figured it was because she was depending on me and I didn’t like it at all.  She sat around the house eating candy and watching the sci-fi channel while I worked.  Her weight ballooned up.  One day I came in from NYC at about 7pm pretty irritated and saw her munching on candy in front of the TV and asked her why she hadn’t left yet. She was clearly done here.  No response.  I asked her to either move in the living room or I would.  She chose to.

Mind you, Mary was clueless that I was living with someone at this time or she wouldn’t have been doing what she was.  I was keeping Alex secret because my lawyer advised me that it was probably a good idea, having her in the mix could not help and could only hurt.  So no one knew about anyone else.  I had no one to talk to. I was barely speaking to my parents by this point because they were pissed about the whole divorce thing.  And no, Alex never met my children.  It was dangerous to do so and I wasn’t sure about her from the start.

Tiffany

There was one person though.  I haven’t mentioned her yet: her name is Tiffany.  Tiffany was at that same “mud party” in 1999 that I had met Alexia.  I didn’t take her seriously at first; Alex was about 26 at the time, I was 29, and Tiffany was 19.  Cute, but too young I thought.  I’d had a close encounter or two with her at the mud party.   She’d been after one of the other guys there.

The party was a real fuckfest, let me tell you. He’d scorned her, opting for a girl with a killer body and no personality to speak of.  Tiffany had lots of personality, that was for sure.  And I think she was waiting for me to kiss her when I was sitting on the edge of her bed consoling her back in March, 99, but I hadn’t made my mind up to be unfaithful when that happened.  It took a lot of booze and active solicitation by Alex to get me there.

Depiction Worries

So, Tiffany and I knew her pretty well.  Looking back on it, we were pretty much destined to get together – she was going to college at Lehigh which was about an hour and a half from where I was living in Jersey, so she was geographically desirable.  Amongst the other fine qualities she has.  Unlike the others depicted here, Tiffany might read this.  I don’t think she’ll object to me telling the truth, because that’s how she is, but she would probably object to me directing her husband to this site, so I will never do that.  😉  

I’ve given a lot of thought – more so than for any other person – on how to depict Tiffany since she’s vitally important to understanding this whole tale, yet I still talk to her on a daily basis.  I decided that I just have to tell the same truth about her that I told about Mary and Darlene and Debbie and Alexia and the others.  So I will, but this is still about Alexia.  I basically knew that my ultimate goal at this time was to both get into Tiffany’s pants and have her as my girlfriend, and leave it at that.   She did not connive with me.  I was handling all dirty deeds.

Delay and Firing

I was basically delaying doing anything with Alex actively because I wanted her to figure out her future for herself, but two things forced me to tip my hand.  One, I lost my job with the Fed.  This was the only time in my modern career when it happened.  Their reasoning was that I was taking too much time off for stuff associated with the divorce and my hours were irregular.  Whatever, I dragged it out as long as I could with them but I shouldn’t have taken the job. FRBNY were too interested in the times you worked and too uninterested in results. I wasn’t going to last very long there.  Very much moreso than the Army itself.   If I’d known divorce was that close to me I wouldn’t have taken it, I had a very stable sinecure with a bank’s stockholder services division before that.  

I got a new job quickly enough, but the whole thing made me feel insecure and I felt like I could no longer support her, whatever her feelings might be.  Two, Tiffany accepted a date.  So I just summarily told Alex to be out of the house by a certain date, about 2 weeks after Labor Day 1999.  She was out, after a lot of whining and complaining.  “If you want to fuck Tiffany, why don’t you just have her over and fuck her and not force me to leave?”, was the choice quote from her.  The answer was that I wasn’t responsible to support her, and I still feel that way, but she had a string of such relationships where she found someone to mooch off of, and I have no doubt that she’s in Nevada today doing just that (I found her via a Google search recently).

Goodbye, Alexia

I dropped her off at the Newark Penn Station bus/train terminal and she hopped a train off into the sunset.  So, so glad to see the backside of her. It’s hard to envision wanting someone there so badly at first and wanting someone gone so badly at the end.  I have almost nothing to remember her by except for this one pan cover that I remember buying with her.  Oh, and a TV set I bought with her with me.  The same one she’d watch sci-fi on all the time while consuming bon bons.

So, I just found a new job.  I’m going out to Lehigh to have dinner with Tiffany for the first time.  Will college life agree with me?  Stay tuned – while this installment only covers about 6 months of time, the next will move much, much faster.

I heard from her once since then.  It was a Paypal demand for me to pay her outgoing train fare.  I replied that transporting herself was not my job.  I paid for her to come, it was only fair she should pay for herself to leave.  Never heard back from her.

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