Well that is what it was like the first first year with an ex-girlfriend in college. Being with her was like rubbing your eyes after you chopped and diced jalapenos so hot you could barely stand to eat them. I was just thankful they weren't habaneros. Takin' a crap ain't much fun either.
For a while there were times of total misery, like when all her girlfriends would come over and get hot and bothered over the lost civilization of ATLANTIS for christsakes. They would sit around in a "discussion group" and hammer out the details of a world ruled by women and how men would be subjected to their whims. It wasn't in a hot way either. But that is incidental. You would have thought it was a lesbian think tank in my front room every Thursday night.
I don't know to this day what all the fuss was about. All four of them not only had boyfriends but like my girlfriend they lived with men...so go figure. I would come home from the library from studying and they would still be there until early in the morning. There may have been something to all this though. The other thing they really had in common was their red hair.
And that was part of the whole deal. You see... not only did women rule over ATLANTIS (according to them) they were all red headed women that ruled over Atlantis. At least, these were the bits and pieces I picked up during their weekly meetings. It was THOSE nights that I didn't get any. Once the estrogen kicked in on them during those discussions the best I would get was wanking.
The leader of the pack was a tall, nice looking red head who lived with a guy that beat her. It didn't make any sense either. She would get the others all worked up and they would go sometimes from sheer anger to utter tears. It was sad when I heard this.
One time she came over looking for my girlfriend. She looked like she had been run over and I was shocked.
"Why the fuck do you let him beat you?" I asked after inviting her in. "Hell, you can stay here. I won't let him in."
"OK" she told me, "I'll wait until your girlfriend comes back home." She would be arriving shortly, coming back from doing research at the library.
I got her some hydrogen peroxide and a wash cloth and started fixing a snack. It didn't happen very often but once I would think would be too much. It was depressing for me to see. I can't imagine what it was like for her.
PeaceCorp Patty was another participant in the Atlantis Conspiracy. She too had a boyfriend that slapped her around. It only happened once though and she kicked his ass out of the house and tripped him on his way out. He fell down the steps leading up to the house and she ran over to him, lifted her sun dress up and pissed on him.
"Did it work?" I asked her once. She looked at me with a puzzled face. "Did he ever try to come back?".
"Naw," she said, "I scared the shit outta him."
It would me. She ended up going to the Peace Corp and went to the Congo. When she came back a year or so later she had this bizarre collection of ebony dildos. She claimed they were from Africa.
Suicide Mary was sexy and suicidal. Now, she would be considered bipolar. She was "hot and cold" all the time. One day she would be the sweetest thing in the world and the next day she would strike like a viper. I think she just hung around with the rest of them especially when she was depressed. My opinion was that she should have been hospitalized but I didn't know shit in those days.
She always talked and made jokes about dildos and the thought occurred to me more than once that she would have become a millionaire had she started a business where she could hold Sex Toy Parties. I imagined though that had she done that she would have gotten severely depressed and most likely would have over-abused a vibrator and killed herself.
Anyway, the other women in the group sort of took care of her and looked out for her as best they could. It was like an unwritten agreement between them. Around the holidays though they started watching her more closely and called her more frequently. All four of the women were semi-heavy drug users but Suicide Mary was into pills and barbiturates in a very unhealthy way.
Weeks would go by and no one would see much of her. The reason being that she could drag you down to her depression before you realized it. One minute you would be bubbly with some kind of Happy Meal Happy Face and she would show up and the next thing you know you're hiding all the razor blades and scraping gum off your shoes.
I would always hide the shotgun in the trunk of my car or between the mattress when she came around. On a good day she would come over in sexy cut-off shorts, shuffle then read tarot cards, start drinking my liquor and hammer down a shit load of reds, get REAL FUCKED UP and then pass out spread eagle on the floor.
"Do you think she's OK?" my girlfriend asked.
What kind of stupid question was that?
"FUCK NO SHE'S NOT OK." I said. "Taking a handful of reds and washing them down with half my liquor is not my idea of 'OK'."
Then we would sit around watching sitcoms and laughing at stuff with this drugged up, spread eagle crazy woman passed out on the floor. We basically treated her like furniture until she stirred, moaned and asked with a groggy, hoarse voice, "You got some water?"
Frankly, I quit liking drunks hanging around my place around the time I quit being a senior in high school. A drunk on downers in my house made me feel like I was in a shooting gallery of junk addicts...so no thanks. Besides that they puke the nastiest looking shit you ever saw. I never could figure out drugs that made you look and act like a drunk. Ya know...just drink or just do drugs....Aw fuck it.
We received a call one afternoon. No one had seen Suicide Mary for awhile. This wasn't altogether unusual either. However, Suzy sounded distressed about it. We didn't live far from Mary so we said we'd go knock on her door...and we knocked and we knocked and we knocked. Finally, we called the police, got ahold of her landlord and entered her apartment.
The place was disgusting and a total wreck. In her living room she lay on the floor on her right side, naked, swollen but still alive. Her body was still warm, but she had been in that position for so long, with a lowered heartbeat, that she had cut off blood flow to her right breast, arm and leg. It was turning an awful purple color and started showing signs of putrefying. She was laying in some of the nastiest vomit I have ever seen. Her high tolerance for the reds kept her from dying...she hadn't taken enough.
We found out later that her right leg, so far from her barely-beating heart, had been amputated. Within 6 months, she had changed her life. She had become a Jew for Jesus, quit college and tooled around in a wheel chair.
The Atlantis Conspiracy had ended and once again I was able to get laid.
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