The Ex-Files – Installment #6

For about a year before I actually left my ex, we had been making plans to leave California and move to Missouri or Arkansas. Dad was planning the move himself (cheaper to live and buy property in that part of the country) and he didn’t want to live alone so he invited us to go with him. CP was excited about it. I was unsure but went along with the planning.

CP insisted that it wouldn’t take him more than a couple of weeks to find a job, once we moved. At that time, he was driving a truck for a local company so he was sure he could get another truck driving job quickly. Every couple of weeks my Dad came from San Francisco to visit and we always talked a lot about the move. Each time we had one of our discussions, CP would change his timeline for finding a job. First, it was 2 weeks and then it was 2 months. Then it changed to 4 months. Next time, it was 6 months. It seemed to me that he was trying to weasel his way out of working and doing his fair share when we moved! I was worried and I knew I was either going to have to tell him in no uncertain terms how things were going to be or I was going to have to UNinvite him completely.

Dad was going to retire very soon and the plan was that he would haul a trailer with important belongings, some furniture, etc., put our things in storage and then start the hunt for a house that was large enough to accommodate CP and me, our 2 kids, my grandmother and of course, my Dad. Dad had purchased plane tickets for me, my kids and my grandmother before he left. We were set to leave in July. CP was going to follow by car later in August and with the rest of our belongings. This would give him the chance to tie up loose ends.

My Dad left in May. He put our belongings in storage as planned and began his hunt for a house. He stayed in hotels off and on, mostly for a shower every few days. Other nights, he stayed at roadside rest areas, to sleep and sometimes he bought meat at Walmart to take to the rest area to cook on an open grill. He was essentially homeless. He eventually found the small home we are now living in, but it took until July to find something in our price range. The kids and I had to stay at my sister’s house for 3 weeks because we were still waiting on the house.

Back on the homefront, it was late May and CP invited his aunt and uncle over for dinner. I tried my hand at homemade manicotti. I made the pasta by hand and it turned out fantastic! That evening, my daughter wanted to play with her Lite Brite set and CP had a fit about how she would dump it and not pick it up. She promised she would pick it up when she was done so he let her have it. She played and played while the grown-ups talked. She finally got tired of it and was picking it up but her little brother wanted to play with it. They began screaming and fighting and I stopped them. SR was picking up her mess, as she had promised but since brother wanted to play, too I told her she could let him play with it.She started to get upset about the promise she had made to her pop.  I said, “I’ll tell pop that your little brother wanted to play and that you were picking it up like you promised. I’ll help brother pick it up when he’s done.” She was worried that she was going to get into trouble. (She was just 6 years old.) I assured her she would not get into trouble. I didn’t think this would be a problem.

In the meantime, CP calmly mentioned in front of his aunt and uncle that he would be following us on our move, but it would be a few months later than originally planned, December to be exact. This was the first I had heard of it and he only mentioned it in front of his aunt and uncle because he knew I wouldn’t cause a scene. He knew I wouldn’t question him in front of his aunt and uncle. I didn’t disagree with him and let it go, just as he predicted I would. It was this precise moment that I knew CP had no intention of following us on our move. It was just one stall after another. First, changes in the amount of time it would take to get a job, and now this.

After another hour or so of visiting with his aunt and uncle, CP came through the house and saw my daughter’s Lite Brite pieces all over the floor. He was pissed off and started yelling at SR and really piling it on thick because his aunt and uncle were still there. (I wasn’t aware that little brother had finished playing with it or it would have been picked up already.) I tried to explain to CP what had happened; that I told her I would help little brother pick them up after he was done playing. (He was just barely 3 years old.) CP was showing off, trying to show his aunt and uncle who’s boss when he yelled, “I told her to pick up the mess and what I say goes!” He refused to hear what I was saying. That’s when I started picking up the mess. My blood was starting to BOIL. He tried to push his weight around even more and I stood up, and I told SR and CP to go to their rooms to play. I stared him dead in the eye as if the glare would kill him instantly. (I wish it would have, to tell you the truth.) Then I got back down on my hands and knees and finished picking up the goddam pieces to the Lite Brite set myself. Aunt and uncle watching, of course. He is NOT going to treat me like that, or my kids over something so insignificant. There was no reason for CP to make a scene and act like a complete a**hole over the whole thing when it could have been easily put to rest. Sometimes circumstances change and as parents, we have to make quick decisions and change the rules a bit. Maybe I made the wrong choice in the first place but I honestly didn’t think it was going to be a big deal. To this day, I still wonder….

Anyway, aunt and uncle finally left. I enjoyed their company but thought when they left, CP and I could talk about what happened. But no. CP went to bed, without a word to me or the kids. Naturally, it’s still early enough that the kids were still up and I still a kitchen to clean, kids to bathe, stories to read, etc., etc.

Stay tuned for the next installment. It’s gonna be a whopper.







The Ex-Files – Installment #5

My last installment of the Ex-Files was after we started a family. If you missed it you can find it here:

CP’s first wife cheated on him and I guess he expected me to do the same. He always seemed to have questions about where I was or what I was doing. I could tell he was suspicious many times but I kept my mouth shut.

Now, let me just say that I have never nor would I ever, cheat on a guy. If I have a problem with a guy or just don’t want to see him anymore, then I would most definitely be honest about it. I wouldn’t go behind his back and cheat. What the hell is the point in that?

This incident happened in the first 5 years of our relationship before we started having kids. So, on with this story….

While I was busting my ass working a part-time job, plus cleaning houses, and babysitting, CP was running his own automotive repair shop, which was a joke. He never did any of the work. I had even lent a helping hand and worked in the office answering the phone on days I didn’t have any other jobs to do. That got old quick.

CP decided to hire a guy he knew from school to help out at the shop. He felt bad for the guy. His name was Ken. He was a nice guy I suppose. He had split from his wife and he needed a job to help support his 2-year-old daughter. He also needed a place to stay. So, what did CP do? He told Ken he could stay with us. He didn’t even run it by me first. I should have cold-cocked him with a frying pan a long time ago.

Well, my peaceful little sanctuary of an apartment became an uncomfortable and awkward place to be. Ken slept on the couch, just within earshot of the bedroom. He rarely bathed so my couch eventually started to smell like ass. Literally. He got on my nerves because he was always there. We had no privacy. He was always helping himself to whatever we had in the refrigerator. He never stopped talking. He was a pain in the ass to have around all the time. He stayed with us for weeks…and weeks….

One day, I was leaving CP’s shop and Ken needed to go change his clothes or something so he could go somewhere. I don’t recall those details. I was going home anyway, so I offered him a ride. CP knew Ken was leaving with me. He never said anything or even showed any disapproval. I never thought anything of it. I was just being me.

So, we got to the apartment and I grabbed something for lunch while Ken did whatever…. I finished my lunch and then I left. What went on after that, I have no clue. When I got home just an hour or so later, CP was sitting on the living room floor feeling the carpet.

I just stopped and thought for a moment, “What the fuck is he doing?” He was the only one home. Ken was gone, thank goodness. CP said there was a wet spot on the floor. Then it dawned on me. He thinks…no, he couldn’t think that. Why would he think that I could…. I couldn’t even go there in my mind let alone say it aloud. He thought that I cheated on him with Ken, on the floor. OMG. Ewww. The guy who smelled like ass. The guy who stunk up my couch. Holy crap. How could he think such a thing when he knows that I was sick of looking at that guy every damn day?

I thought to myself, this is going to stop right now. I confronted him and said, “I know what you’re thinking and you’d better not even go there! I am not going to be accused of cheating AGAIN!”

This was NOT the first time he had accused me of cheating. The first time was a couple of years earlier when he found a pair of my undies under the couch cushion. He jumped to the conclusion that I had hid them there. He figured the only reason for me to hide them was that I had cheated and needed to hide the evidence. Dumb shit. Why wouldn’t I have just put them in the laundry hamper? Anyway, I had to remind him of the laundry I had dumped on the end of the couch the week prior that sat there for days and days because I was too lazy to pick them up and put them away. A pair of undies probably just got pushed down between the cushions and I didn’t realize it when I finally put the laundry away. Geez.

Anyway, that accusation was put to rest, as was the “wet spot” incident. CP apologized both times. I tried several times over the years to make him understand that I am not like his ex and that if I didn’t want to be with him then I would have left him. I would not have cheated. That’s just not who I am.

Now, I know not all men are assholes but my ex was, and most likely still is. I don’t know if he became someone else’s problem or not but I hope she didn’t forget he was an asshole like I always did!








The Ex-Files – Third Installment

This is the third installment of a series. If you missed the first two, you can find them here:  and here:

So, there I was, living in my own apartment with CP and thinking what the heck have I done? It was sure a sign of what was yet to come because things never really got much better.

CP always talked about what a good mechanic he was; all I ever heard was “shop talk” when he and the cousins got together. Boring. He had fixed my car a time or two, and I really didn’t think much of it. He was really interested in opening his own auto shop. How the heck could he possibly open his own shop with no money? Did he think he could just start moving cars into a shop and start working on them? He must have. I don’t know how he did it but he conned the owner of a shop into renting it to him. I think it was because his cousin also rented from him so the owner thought it was safe. Haha.

So, I tried to be as supportive as I possibly could. I showed interest and excitement. I helped him paint the shop office. I don’t know why that was so important. It had a decent paint job already. When I got off work every afternoon, I went to the shop and sat in the office answering the phone. It didn’t ring much. Hahaha. It cost too much to put ads in the paper, in the phone book, etc. Word of mouth is how he got jobs. The thing is when you get a job to do you actually have to work on it. At one point he had 6 vehicles on the shop floor. Those vehicles were there until the owners got tired of waiting for him to get the work done. One VW Bug sat there for a year before the owner came and got it. I felt so bad for these people!!

Eventually, I washed my hands of the entire operation. I got tired of calls from irate car owners day after day. They would be angrier every day because CP would never call them back! He didn’t call them back because he wasn’t doing the work. He wasn’t doing the work because he was always “shootin’ the shit” with his cousins. I mean, geesh. If you want to take a break now and then is one thing but to spend entire days just talking?! You don’t make any money if you don’t do the work!

This whole time CP had the shop, the financial burden fell on me. He wasn’t making any money and we were eating bologna sandwiches and ramen noodles, day in and day out. It’s pretty bad when all your paycheck goes to paying rent, utilities, other bills and gas for the car and you only have about $50 for food for the entire month! Boy, does that get old fast! I was ready to strangle CP because he wasn’t pulling his weight! I was so very happy when he finally got kicked out of that shop!!

Fast forward, years later…1992. When my kids and I left him — he made sure to tell people (I had eyes and ears back home) that the reason his shop failed was that “Deb stole all my money!” What freakin’ money?? He’s damn lucky I was in MO because I would have cold-cocked him upside the head if I were still there!

To be continued…..