I expect this to be disjoint because it is a long story where I only want to focus on one main event. This is not one of my flights of fancy, it is true.
I was 19 years old and had never been laid. My friend thought it best to throw me into the deep end of the pool. He didn’t tell me that, he didn’t tell me this was a setup, he just had me go and meet this girl he said would be perfect for me.
As I walked up to the house where Judy lived I saw through the picture window an overweight woman lift a man over her head and then slam him to the floor. It was a move one might see on professional wrestling. Foolish as I was at that age I thought to myself, “This is going to be good.” I went right ahead and knocked on the door. The lady of the house opened the door and I said, “I’m here to see Judy.”
I was let in and watched the man of the house get up off the floor. He did not appear hurt at all, nor embarrassed. A tiny little blonde girl toddled into the living room, looked me dead in the eye and shouted, “Fuck you!” The little one was immediately scooped up by the lady who hugged and scolded adamantly and the little girl was obviously in heaven the whole time having successfully manipulated her little world and gotten the attention she desired.
‘So this is white trash,’ I thought to myself shaking my head. At least this won’t be boring.
I will say this for these people: If you were suddenly alone and they saw you wandering down the street looking sad they would walk out, find out what was wrong and then given you a home with no real questions asked. No one in this house was blood related, they just came together out of happenstance and compassion. I did drink it all in and learn morals from these people; morals I did not learn at home, morals I did not learn in church. White trash nonetheless.
I was then alone in the living room sitting on the couch. Judy came in, sat down on my lap with an arm around my shoulder and asked with a friendly smile on her face, “So what do you think about oral sex?” I replied that I did not know, because I didn’t, and that was the beginning of two months of education. I will now skip a ton of stuff that just doesn’t really matter and it is a shame I have such a poor memory because it was never boring there.
. . .
I only ever hit a girl once. To remind, I was 19 and she 17. We were living together for about two months. For no reason whatsoever she walked up to me in the living room and slapped me across the face as hard as she could. I stared at her in disbelief. She did it again, just as hard. I pulled my right arm back and swung toward her and barely nicked her chin with the tip of my middle finger. She cried for about three hours. She should have, I’m 55 years old and no female before or since has ever elicited that kind of behavior from me. I did not hurt her in the least physically, but she understood the gravity of what that meant. Her explanation later was that we had not yet had a good fight and it was time. Without a word I put my things in my car and left and never looked back. She had a baby and put it up for adoption which I found out about years later.
I often wonder what it means to be a “real man.” I think one in three women are either raped or beaten at least once in their lives, maybe more. I’m sure not everyone reports such things. If being a man means being that aggressive, that abusive, that insane then I will never be a man. These things are not in me. I guess in some ways if asked if I am a man or a mouse I would have to say a mouse; a rather proud mouse but a mouse just the same.
I do not force, I do not fight, I do not dominate. I care, I invite, and often I am hurt. I take pride in who I am and what I do. I plan, I work, I guarantee a solid foundation. I build a life and I build a relationship. I protect. And most of all I love. If that is not a man then I don’t want to be one.