At 15 I didn’t know how to handle my curly hair much better than my drinks or my men, I was on the larger size but not fat. I had been dating my first real boyfriend for one year. I only let him get to third base I wasn’t ready but he loved me the same and accepted our lack of a sex life besides basic grinding and the occasional old fashioned hand job. I decided to move up the scale, broke up with him for another guy who was 29, not really thinking about his lack of a green card and the fact that his main job was a pizza place in a K-Mart shopping center, that never really did too well, I had a thing for his dark hair and broken English. I should have known it was an omen since all the stores in that plaza are closed today but the shit hole still stands completely empty with a haunting 1980 feel to it.
He was a 29 year old Italian gigilo wanna be, which meant I was 16, while he was out night clubbing. I never really had his full attention, but i loved him and wanted to have his babies, green card or not. That was 1986 fast forward to 2012. I own a print shop and drive a Mercedes he owns a small restaurant. He asked me to do some menus for him. We discussed price, he agreed, I did the work but when I delivered them to his restaurant, he tried to smooth talk me to get out of paying for them. He said he knew me when I was nothing, I said at 16 what the fuck was I supposed to be..i rode a ten speed. 2 years after that he went out of business, went back to Italy and died the following year. Karma is a bitch sometimes, but he was my first lesson. It was my first time, which was completely horrible but usually it is. We were in a shitty one bedroom apartment he shared with 2 other illegal Italians who worked at the pizza place. I don’t know what happened to them or if they have been deported. My guess would be yes because there was some underage exploitation in their lives as well, but it is just a hunch.
The good years
After that awkward time period I learned the ropes on men. At least I thought I did. Went thru five or six semi serious boyfriends at the time. Cheated on most of them, and I am sure they did me too. I was always tough on the commitment thing. Until I got older. So I had another boyfriend named Mike, We bought our first house together, he worked in concrete and was another Italian (you will see a pattern here) he was a bookie with his family. We partied like small town rock stars and hung out in Atlantic City. I left him, you know that time when you’re with a guy and you dread sleeping with him so you act like your asleep when he comes in. I went so far as to get a night job at UPS five nights a week so I didn’t have to be home. He became my friend, watched my dogs when I was on vacation, he passed away of a sudden heart attack. He had some habits he couldn’t quit. He died in his late 40s, at an early age overall but with a few bad habits. I Went on to date a guy from Mississippi right after Mike, his name was Mike too. He worked traveling on the road in the oil refineries. He was a true southerner from Mississippi sayin’ y’all and down yonder. Well I was bored down yonder and after 2 years I knew I could not go much further, I left him. I was his friend right up to the end tho. He was good man and I went to see him upon his request, on his death bed, he died of lung disease at 38.
Then I met John, he was a retired cop so as you can see I went all over the board here. We lived together for a few years, but john was tough. He expected me to be a Betty Crocker batender. It was not going to happen. He usually dated woman who lacked education and I think self confidence so he was used to a certain type. I was not that way. We are still friends today and for the record he is still alive, and we are friends with no court order.
I met G, we will call him that, two weeks after John. And G will be referenced in this book in more sections. He was wealthy yet mentally the most insecure of my exes. I despise a man who defines his worth by who he is eyin’ up, the waitres or the bartender attempting some small talk flirting. Based on his own demise, he cheated and lied to me and eventually I left him. I met Jay, and two weeks into dating Jay, G comes on the beach and proposes to me. Well it was my first engagement ring so hesitantly, I took it. So, I had a summer of G trying to sell his love to me, I Stayed in the hotel they filmed Pretty Woman, Shopped on Rodeo Drive. I flew my dog first class, we walk in the Tiffany store and my dog takes a nice crap. Coolest thing was a lady came running up dressed to the nines and picked it up with a smile asking me if I wanted a water with or without bubbles. I would like a drink without the lies that accompany it. The lady had no answer for me. But she did pick up my dogs shit.
At the end of the summer after G trying to buy back my love with David Yurman bracelets, designer hand bags, the extra large dog carrier from Louis Vuitton that paris Hilton uses (I felt really cool about that) Now 10 years later it sits in my closet with all the other bags inside it. At the end of that summer I left him, with all my bags packed, my heart was in one of those leather bags. I gave him back the ring and said “you cant marry someone with a foundation based on sand. But you can still be friends.” And that’s what we became. G helped me build my so called empire. So i can crash it down, or build up a wall do high, no one can get past.
I am friends with most of my ex’s today, the ones I am not friends with are dead or I have a final restraining order on. Woud you want to sleep with me now? That is a tough question, I know and you require more information about the risk involved. Here is where I’ll tell you the details day by day on how it all started…and how it goes today, what I confide my close friends with, On YouTube under The Alibi Room Live bar feeds, interviews and life lessons for everyone to learn something from. If you’re thinking about going in the bar business or just an overweight housewife with a drunk husband who sits in a bar like mine, these lessons might apply to you in one form or another. These are my alibis.
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