The good news…

 The good news is that tornado season is over in 6 weeks…. The bad news… we are neck deep in tornadoes. I say this every year that I hate this time of year. Where my YM is it’s going to snow this week….no, I’m not crying, you are!

Ok, ready?! 

Bar book club buddy-Mickey Rourke 9 1/2 weeks-Maybe roofied me?- 98%. Sure he was an undercover DEA agent….

Everyone called him Motorcycle Bob. Because his name was Bob (but was it?) and he drove a motorcycle… we gave most people nicknames like the guy who serviced the jukebox was Jukebox Dave…It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to come up with these names…

We mostly talked about the book we were reading… lots of Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Anne Rice( ps, I’m friends with her sone who is also a writer and very catholic and lovely in every way, Christopher, and I speak every couple of months. He went to Israel a couple of years ago and wrote to ask me if there was anything specific the he could pray over me. Sweet man)

ANYWAY!!! Sorry about the detour!

But every once in awhile he’d slip in a conversation about drugs, like he was being casually cool about doing drugs and “ what kind of stuff you into?” And my mama might have raised one fool but that was my brother, not me. So, I told him I’d smoked weed in high school but mostly we’d drink because my parents had stopped parenting and started paying for our alcohol and cigarettes. And he’d say something off the cuff about him doing drugs when he was that age, keeping in mind that for ME high school was very recent! I’d say he must have been middle to late 30’s.

And then that was dropped but I started seeing him around where I lived and he’d talk to me and really smoothly say something like “ you’re beautiful but you seem a little off today. Hard night last night? What were you up to?”  By the way, no one had ever called me beautiful before, I was always “Cute” and we’d talked about that once in the context of a character in a book so it felt like he was using that…

Drinking. Drinking. Yada yada….

Then I started getting pulled over by the cops a few times a week. It was weird as fuck and I’d get a warning for stupid shit like, make sure you turn your turn signal on earlier, uh, ok?

Then it happened…. At 12:15an I was pulled over after picking up my son from his babysitter. The tags on my car had expired at midnight…. Dude pulled a gun on me. Jo-ry was scared, I was fucking pissed and maybe a little mouthy about his fucking bored he must be…He commented….. You buy some drugs from there? 

Huh? What???? 

“we have info that they sell drugs and you pulled up, stated for a couple of minutes and left”

I was like, if your so fucking smart did you see me leave with a fucking four year old child in my arms???

He gave me a ticket.

Then there was a wood skat fence that separated my apartment complex from a neighborhood and the cops would park there!!! Watching me. I waved to them. 

So motorcycle Bob starts asking me more frequently… like dude, take no for an answer, he was dating Amber now and Amber got her haircut by my stylist. I went in he day and my stylist brought it up and commented on her boyfriend…. James??? 

Huh? Bob, his name is Bob…

Nope. James…..

Dude drives a cycle? 

You, that’s him.

So I mentioned it to Amber and she looked like she’d seen a ghost! Wouldn’t talk about it..

But Bob/James did and told me to never mention his fucking name again. To anyone, anywhere!! Got it?!

Ya, I got it…

Started getting pulled over every couple of days. Could not tell anyone that this was happening. Bob started coming in and being aggressive around me, like he’s no longer my book buddy and he had told Amber to stay away from me ( I’d been roofied/maybe by this point.)

So one night he pulls up and I’m leaving work. He repeats to never fucking talk about him so I replied… Why? Does it break your cover? He was pissed, got off the motorcycle and walked towards me, I stood my ground and told him that I’d tell every fucking person in a bar for a 20 Mile radius that his name was fake and he’s a fucking cop.

He drove off. Never came back. Never saw him again. 

Tell me that’s not weird as hell!!!


So there’s the story I’ve never told anyone except my husband. 

Song? Rocky Mountain Way by Joe Walsh

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