My Real Memoir
It seemed everything I’d ever wanted or trained to be was just a handful of beans, and there was no beanstalk in sight. I was making a living pretending to be an electronics engineer, while the girl I thought I’d marry dated a brain surgeon.
I didn’t have a real life, so I cobbled together a fake one from spare parts. Bought a ten-speed and rode myself into an endorphin haze. Read enchanted tomes in labyrinthine bookstores. Threw a Christmas ornament-making party for my fellow apartment denizens (one, who worked in a napalm factory, made a startling “Stop the Bombs!” ornament). I also wrote and sang about love (images above).
But since I didn’t have love, I settled for sex. One day I saw a teen tough shoving a younger boy off his bike in our communal alley. I grabbed the big kid, told him I was an off-duty cop, chased him halfway to Canada, and escorted the little dude to his apartment. His mother, who, as my car-mad friend Rick would say, had a brilliantly-assembled chassis, turned out to be an “exotic dancer.” So I played the hero card and took her to dinner. We had absolutely nothing in common. Still, I figured, at least we could… And we did. But that too was a lifeless adventure.
Meanwhile, Sensormatic sent me to Denver again. I was grateful to spend the night with Roni, who at least I liked. Then I drove to Vail and installed anti-shoplifting systems in ski stores. Later, snowed-in and twitchy, I pulled a Gideon Bible from my hotel nightstand, and looked up “Love” in the index. I’d never read Jesus’ words before, and their profundity stunned me. Could he be the real deal? But he seemed kind of down on casual sex. True, real love was better, but…
The next day, I drove my rental car 125 mph (135 downhill) through pre-Oz Kansas, did four days of error-strewn installations, and headed for Denver. Driving a 70s muscle car at full speed means you get there fast, and run out of gas even faster. In remote, townless eastern Colorado, at two in the morning, under five feet of snow, I decided to turn back. Executing a slip-n-slide turn, I ended up in a metaphor for my life – a ditch.
Mercifully, there was a farm nearby. I woke a cranky, lanky agrarian, who muttered, “City people” as he fired up his tractor and yanked my car back onto the road.
The moment I got home, I called my first love Marty, who I hadn’t seen in four years. During which time, I learned, she’d gotten married and divorced, and was now adrift like me. So I treated her to a historical reenactment of our first date. After dinner, we stood under a streetlamp and kissed, and she whispered, “It’s like we never broke-up.” But was it? At her apartment, we acted as though it was, and got physical. But it didn’t feel the same.
Several weeks later, feeling weird in my nether regions, I found out I’d contracted what used to be called “a social disease.” Phone calls had to be made. Roni and Marty hadn’t been with anyone else, and never wanted to see me again. The stripper said she was fine and called me a liar. So I took my pills, settled into my ditch…
And quit my job.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
wow from bad to worse. There has to be something good on the horizon!
Eventually, Martha.
Oh my goodness! This was quite a journey. A journey similar to mine, from one crash site to another for a while. Looking forward to hearing the next chapter.
Unfortunately, yes, Sally, “from one crash site to another” describes it all too well.
The things we do for love..oh..oh. Trying to put distance between our fallible self, always runs us into a circle and we have to start again. Good read, and at least you learned some hard lessons along the way.
Indeed. Thanks, Phil.
Thankfully, the Bible appeared to be calling your name. 🙂
Took me a while to listen, Nancy, but it was indeed.
I’m so sorry you had to land in a ditch several times before you found the Way on the straight path (John 14:6; Proverbs 3:5-6). Sounds like you endured some painful bumps and bruises.
Sadly, yes, Nancy, and bruised more than a few other people along the way as well.
Sometimes, we need a swift kick in the hind-end before we succumb to His word. Not literally, but figuratively, and it seems that happened for you.
And you have these experiences you can share with others, which is helpful, too. 🙏🏾
I’m afraid it took quite a few more kicks before I surrendered, trE, but yes, I finally did. Thanks for the kind words, my friend.
You’re most welcome!
Inspiring piece, light at the end ❤️
Thank you, Enoble.
Interesting! Wasn’t expecting that ending.
Mitch, thank you for sharing your real life journey with us. We all have paths we wish we hadn’t taken. Glad the Gideon Bible was a sidebar on your journey. Do you mind if I share your story with my husband? He is a Gideon. 😊
Happy to have you share it with him, Peggy.
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