Bizarre Love Triangle (New Order)

There are some people you meet in life that are in the chorus of your story and they remain there indefinitely. Such was the case with Mikki Luckinbill for a time. I didn’t like her because she was irritating and was clearly shtuping her way to the middle, but didn’t dislike her either because that would involve caring.

Mikki was the quintessential divorcee who’s therapist suggested she try comedy. It was because Dr. Finkelstein, her Park Avenue shrink, was tired not only hearing about her successful Columbia psych professor ex who was bopping a TA, but about the crabs she got afterwards. According to her “act,” after the affair Mikki moved out of their Riverside Drive apartment and back into the home of her parents: a doctor father who emigrated from India and a debutante mother who went to Radcliffe when it existed and was “rather disappointed” when Mikki was rejected by all the schools she applied to and could only get into her safety, Skidmore.

Whenever she graced the stage, Mikki’s act was a monotonous monologue that couldn’t even pass as tragedy, because alas, tragedy is interesting. Listening to her after one minute made you consider slitting your wrists, and after five minutes you wanted to draw up a warm bath and then throw in the toaster.

Sucking onstage is one thing, but sucking off stage is another, and Mikki was the master at both. A student of Jed Kemp, a one time rising star who coked his comedy career away, he assured Mikki she would be the next great female comedy superstar next to Chelsea Handler. It wasn’t because Mikki had talent, it was because she was sleeping with him and would tell anyone who listened.

As his star student and paramour, Mikki was all over Jed’s website, giving testimonial videos clad in low cut dress that her melon breasts hung out of. Acting as his ambassador, she tried to recruit other comedians to be a part of this “school.” Then Mikki would try to get these students to sign their friends up for a discount, thus creating a pyramid scheme that exploited hopefuls. After a while, she said she wanted to dump Jed because he could only get her so far and wanted a bigger fish.

Mikki was hard to stomach, but we also never had a bad encounter. When I could I avoided her because she was annoying. If I saw her on the street we would exchange a quick hi and kept it there, because that’s how you treat a chorus person in your play, right?

However, Mikki was soon to be upgraded to guest star in a dramatic arc lasting several episodes. Enter Isaac Rabinowitz, my on again/off again flame who I had recently decided burned me for the last time. After a series of events the complicated relationship had lost it’s luster and appeal. Finally, to the relief of everyone around me, especially my mother, I ended it with Isaac once and for all.

Isaac did not take it well. After a text where he accused me of being “cold”, we had a long two hour phone conversation where I was forced to hear about Isaac’s feelings, and I kept telling him to eat shit and go to hell because I was sick of his mind games. Isaac said he wanted to be a part of my life as my friend because he liked me as a person, and I believed him because I felt some of the same.

Despite our differences, when it came to my comedy and my puppets Isaac was always in my corner. As a comedian, every joke writing instinct he had was completely and utterly wrong, but he had a sixth sense as to what bookers would like my act, how to approach them, and ideas on how to guide my career. In return, I was always gung ho to guest host his shitty open mic  if he couldn’t make it. All and all, it was an awesome development, or so I felt.

 

 

Don’t get me wrong, Isaac could be a pick but at least he was an honorable one. Extending the olive branch, he invited me to do the guest spot at his open mic which meant I didn’t have to pay $5 to perform. Arriving at the club on that sweltering August day, it was a record breaking high. Not only was the place jammed with sweaty hopefuls, but the air conditioner was broken and the fans were going at full blast. To add to the ambiance, the place, which usually smelled like rotten urine, had an extra pungent odor.

I was icky and grungy, because in addition to the smelly scene the subway had broken and I was forced to trek thirty blocks with May Wilson in tow. My makeup was messed up and my clothes were stuck to my body. If that’s not a way to greet your most recent ex I don’t know what is. That’s when in walks Mikki Luckinbill with her jet black hair styled just so and wearing a low cut white dress, generous bosom bouncing with each step looking better than ever.

As his eyes caught site of her, Isaac ran over and was stuck to her for the rest of the night like Gorilla Glue, leaving his usual hosting corner so he could sit next to her. Smitten with his new squeeze, Isaac auspiciously placed his hand on her leg. I wanted to vomit. Why did it have to be her? On the other hand, it was making me realize I had done the right thing by ending it. I knew better than anyone how Isaac could be. Now he was Mikki’s problem.

Sunday Isaac texted me to have brunch as friends. My instincts told me not to go because the breakup was not only still fresh but I had just started seeing a new guy, Sean, two days before. Isaac and I were just friends, and if I wanted this friendship to work I had to give it a try, right?

I met Isaac at a diner in Murray Hill around the corner from his apartment that his millionaire father financed. As we ate, we talked comedy and our favorite mutual subject, The Marx Brothers. Bruch turned out to be more fun than I thought it was going to be. I said, “I forgot how much fun you were to hang out with.”

Isaac said,  “Me too. I am glad we are friends, April. It’s weird because we used to date.” My instincts had been right after all, “Come on, April, you can’t just pretend we didn’t used to date.”

“I am doing it right now. It’s not that hard, Isaac,” I said.

“How can you say that? I still care about you.” Isaac said.

“Just stop with the games,” I said, angry at myself for not seeing this was the usual Isaac trap of him reeling me back in, me taking the bait, him hurting me and then the cycle repeating.  

“Just so you know, I don’t want to get back with you anyway. I am seeing Mikki Luckinbill. We were talking about you. We both agreed you are self-absorbed, immature and are completely ruthless when it comes to your ambition.”

Now I officially had enough, “I think Mikki is a better match for you. She’s not funny and neither are you. And as for immature, I am looking right at him. So I am going to be the adult and end this once and for all. Have a nice life, Isaac because you are sure as hell dead to me.” I got up, threw my napkin down, and walked out onto the busy New York City Streets free of Isaac and his bullshit.

Two weeks later, Sean and I became engaged because why settle for a love triangle when you can have good old fashioned soul crushing codependency? Upon hearing about my engagement, Isaac became more determined than ever to win me back. He began texting furiously, telling me he was only with Mikki because he couldn’t have me, and if I said he the word he would dump her for real and we could be together. I ignored him and even went so far as to block his number.

To no ones shock except my own, Sean turned out to be a terrible fiancé. Even on it’s best day, the relationship was text book dysfunctional. Controlling and jealous, Sean made me choose between him and my puppets, and I chose him feeling it was time I forget my dreams and become a good wife. When Isaac heard about this development through mutual friends, he confronted Sean and the two nearly got into a fistfight.

Isaac blamed himself for this development in my life. He told anyone that would listen that had he been a better man to me I would never be engaged to Sean. Of course as usual, Isaac was making everything about himself. My bad decisions were my own and my own alone goshdarnit. Meanwhile, Isaac was still seeing Mikki who was growing to steadily resent me.

Back at the ranch, Mikki was not only becoming increasingly jealous of me, but tired of Isaac and his wandering eye. Sloppy as usual, Isaac left his laptop open. This led Mikki to discover that in addition to trying to win me back, Isaac was also seeing two other women: one was Emily, a childhood sweetheart, and the other was my former friend Sharon, who he would later go on to marry, and referred to her in their exchanges as his “girlfriend.” To compound the drama, Mikki had introduced Isaac to her family at Thanksgiving the week before. If this is making you dizzy reading this, try living it.

Mikki’s frustration came to head when she was onstage one night at a show Isaac had produced. Unable to contain her age any longer, Mikki exploded at Isaac confronting him about me, Emily, and Sharon. In front of a free comedy show audience, Isaac denied the accusations. This infuriated Mikki further as she laid into him about his epically small penis size. When her verbal assault was finished, she hopped off the stage, slapped him across the face, burst into tears and ran into the night. While I was not there to see it, witnesses claim this was the funniest thing either had ever done.

I eventually dumped Sean, picked up my puppets, and recommitted myself to becoming a professional ventriloquist. Fortunately I was able to shake that mistake, and it got me a Daily Mail UK article that went viral before COVID made it cool. Each of the other players in this dramatic story faded into the background.

That is, until years later when I saw Mikki at an audition. At first I was shocked because it had been so long, but I was also glad to see she was still in the game. She still looked the same, except the low cut clothing was replaced by an all black motif that most first year drama students wear to look tortured and emotive as they wax nostalgic about Shakespeare and Chekhov.

Because time plus distance equals comedy, I had developed a sense of humor about those painful early days and regarded them as coming of age follies. When I gave her the big hello, she looked at me as if I was the Baby Ruth that invaded her pool party. She said, “I will have you know that I am doing well. Really well. I have an MFA in Acting.”

Before I could respond back she snarled and  stomped off.  For the heck of it, I went to her facebook page to see what she had been to later that day. In a five paragraph rant, she talked about seeing “the ghost from her past who was the succubus who seduced her boyfriend once upon a moon.” Then she called me “fame hungry” and said I was used, “as a regular Method substitution for an evil person.”

In honor of the completion of Mikki’s MFA in Acting I will quote he late, great William Shakespeare, “Life is a tale told by an idiot. The sound and the fury signifying nothing.” With that, I logged off the computer and relegated her back into the chorus of my story.

An Internet Tale

It's true and this story will tell you why

The other day, a weird thing happened. It was a facebook message I got out of no where. A message from someone from my past. I wouldn’t say a man from my past because we had no romantic history whatsoever. It was a guy I knew from high school that I will call Jake. We worked in the same supermarket bagging groceries as teenagers.

Jake attended the school at the district next door to ours. He was a pretty average looking, nondescript kind of guy. From what I gathered, Jake was an average student too, and I think he ended up at some sort of state school and majored in something not so spectacular, practical, and vague like business. We were friendly but not friends. Jake and I talked, but it’s not like we ever hang out outside of work.

Jake’s dad, Mr. Pines, was a store manager. Our store had several different departments. One was the front end. Then there was the deli. We cannot forget hot foods. And then there were the butchers. Lest we not forget video and stock. Oh I did. I forgot floral. Anyway, I think his dad managed stock. He was a nice guy as I remember and a little high strung. Prior to me leaving he actually had a minor heart attack.

But Mr. Pine was a good guy. At the supermarket where we worked, we had a sort of deal with a local group home and hired several of their residence. One young woman, Sally, was learning disabled and had a tinge of OCD. She was obsessed with doing go backs, aka putting items back on the shelf that people decided not to get at the register. Sally also told each customer what she put in each bag and would yell at other baggers when they put more than 5 items in a bag. Five was her limit, and there could be no more. Sally would count out loud, “1,2,3,4,5……” It drove everyone crazy, and front end managers would want to get rid of her. Mr. Pines, always stuck up for her though. Despite the fact she was hard to love, he knew she wasn’t right.

Another mentally disabled man, Steve, would often refer to himself as Donald Duck and would demand others did so. Whenever he felt the urge, Steve would quack at customers, and knowing he was “special” as they diplomatically pitched, they laughed it off. However, where Steve became troublesome was when he threated to get a bomb and blow up the store. Steve lived in a group home for those with special needs, there was no way he would have the means let alone ability to make this happen. But this was a terroristic threat, and it had to be taken seriously nonetheless since it was indeed post 9/11.

The bosses wanted to fire Steve, but he was simply suspended. This was largely in part to Mr. Pines who insisted Steve was who he was and that had to be taken into account. Afterwards, Steve was moved to stocking shelves at the suggestion of Mr. Pines. A job where he would not and could not interact with anyone.

One thing about Mr. Pines was he was extremely high strung, and had every right to be. We had a record number of idiot teens working the job. One Vincent Clamente, would smoke weed on the job instead of doing carts. Mr. Pines notoriously took his weed, threw it in the garbage, and told Vincent never to return. Thank God, we all hated that asshole.  

Mr. Pines would yell at some of the idiots we worked with and was also a heavy smoker. Being high strung and smoking a pack a day caught up with him and eventually he had a heart attack. These are the days of our lives.

In any event, Jake’s school district was next to mine. His high school was half the size of ours. We knew some of the same people, mainly because I had a brief childhood stint as an ice skater and did shows at a local summer theatre for children in the park.

Jake’s home town was the notorious place where my former classmates drank to the point of black out. It’s where the Paulo’s threw the “parents out of town” parties and then our kids scooted out before their local law enforcement who made Barney Fife look like he had it going on showed up. It also had groves where kids got into drugs and in each other’s pants. And it had parking lots where some brutal fights occurred. Alas, or as my mom says, “Too much leisure time.”

One time Jake and I bonded was in regards to our co-worker Don. Oh yes, Don. Or Don Juan as he came to be termed by the guys working front end. Don was no more than 21, and worked in hot foods. Barely 5’7” and having sandy blonde hair, Don fancied himself a ladies man. Desperate to get laid, Don cast his net and wide. I would say he was dragging the dollar bill through the trailer park but that would mean Don was somewhat selective. To be hit on by Don, you required a pulse and nothing more.

A man who recognized me from television took this photo. Don would have so hit on her. 

But I shouldn't be too proud, Don hit on that too. It's what we used to say he would screw but a little fucked up if you keep reading. Oh irony, you are a bitch. 

At the time, Don was allegedly having a regular sexual fling a ding with a woman who worked in the bakery. Mind you this woman who was “married and in her 30s” was never produced. It was Don’s story and he was sticking to it. Whenever Don would talk about his regular piece of action, Jake and I would exchange a look of knowing, knowing that she was a better piece of fiction than JD Salinger could ever write. Of course, real or imagined, this regular action was not enough for Don. So he kept on hunting, and with absolutely no success.

Don hit on me once. It was around the time everyone was beginning to suspect his conquest was named Palmela and located on his right hand. I was doing some AP European History homework, and Don approached, ready for action. He asked what I liked to do for fun and I knew what was coming. So I told Don I liked to study and I was focused on getting into college, focused on my future. I told Don my education and future came first, men second. Don was stunned not knowing what to do with this information, and stunned that he was shot down again.

“That is a point of view that is way too liberated for me.” Don announced and walked away. Granted, I think he wanted me to pull down his pants and go down on him right there, but that is not the way things typically worked. Alas, Don could dream, right? Jake and I looked at each other and laughed. Don……

Either way, a week later Don was dead. Apparently, he had been struggling with drugs for some time, specifically heroin. The poor thing had been in and out of rehab for the past 2 years. He had been clean until his overdose. Like so many addicts wanting recovery but not being able to get the solution, Don tried to fill the space with something else. That something else was women. What a bad something else, especially since he had no luck in that department. Plus from what I heard his family life was pretty horrific anyway.

Still, it gave me shivers that he hit on me and he was dead. There is a part of me that wants to make a joke that just as there are “lady killers” I’m a “man killer.” Don was so cheesy he would probably laugh too. But alas, it’s kind of disrespectful to people who have lost someone as a result of active addiction.

I was at the job a little after Don’s passing. It was more or less because I had to get set to apply for colleges, and the process was quite detailed. There were the auditions, essays, applications, and all else in between. I ultimately ended up getting accepted to and attending NYU. Shortly after getting accepted to college, my mom got a job at a local health club as the aquatics director, and I came to work as one of her lifeguards and ultimately as a water aerobics instructor.

Shortly before getting into NYU with Sweetie Pie. She has been with me a long time and through a great many adventures. 

Then I left for college and worked at the health club between semesters. Either way, I didn’t return to the supermarket and lost track of Jake.

Of course life happens as it always inevitably does, and social media makes the world a tad smaller. Several years ago I got a request from Jake and took it. Why not? From there we never said much to each other.

However, that is until the other day.

Out of nowhere I got a message from Jake. He told me I looked like I hadn’t aged since high school. While I am an eternal Princess Pan chasing the never ending rainbow of my pipe dream, I am well aware that time has passed. Old school friends are married and have kids. My own sister is even set to walk down the aisle. While it seems like yesterday we were all wearing mom jeans and scrunchies, I am know yesterday's gone with the wind.

On the same token, I have no desire for marriage and children really at this point. I’m happily single. I was engaged and that ended badly, very badly. Then there have been several guys I talked about getting married with. It didn’t happen and each time it has been for the best, and each time I went through a phase of happy before wanting to run towards my freedom. I love performing for children, and I love children in general. They are sacred beings. But being a mom is a different ball game entirely. Plus I love my being my own woman, a woman who is not forced to serve a man.

I do not envy the married. 

Jake told me I looked hotter than I did in high school. Now that’s funny. Granted, I was kind of a mopette in high school. My makeup always looked like I was a drag queen who met with an unfortunate hail storm. Not to mention I was kind of chunky. You see, I had been a gymnast as a kid but got injured. Then I tried the whole diving thing but never got used to entering head first and kinda sucked at it anyway. I even toyed with the idea of being a circus acrobat for a minute. But when I fell into the whole performing/writing thing, I cut down on the physical activity sports gave. So I had a little junk in my trunk. Translated, it wasn’t hard for me to be “hotter” than I was in high school.

I laughed it off. Jake was always a nice dude. He mentioned he lived in Miami. Apparently his family went after his dad’s heart attack and he followed. Jake mentioned he was at the beach whenever possible, which made me somewhat envious. In a short minute, Jake followed this by informing me I had a body made for a beach. If I didn’t know any better, I had a feeling he was channeling Don’s dead spirit for terrible pick up lines. Actually, Don’s were usually more successful, and Don always struck out.

They thought I had a bikini body in Guatemala. Perhaps this is where Jake got the idea......or not. 

Then Jake asked if I had ever been to a nude beach. I told him no. So Jake decided to invite me if I ever came to Florida. Taking it a step further, Jake asked me what my body would look like at a nude beach. Okay, it was official. Don, even dead, probably had more game than Jake.

Jake asked me what my body would look like at a nude beach. I told him to use his imagination. Jake then told me it would be like high school. He would show me his if I would how him mine. Now I was officially speechless.

Just curious to see what he was up to, I went to Jake’s facebook page. He was married with two kids. Jake’s wife wasn’t terribly beautiful, but she wasn’t ugly either. While she wasn’t a knock out, she was probably someone who didn’t have time to doll up because she was busy raising two kids as her moron husband was trying to see if he still had it on facebook. Despite my beliefs about monogamy being outdated, I had a feeling she would disagree with me. So much so that if this continued, I would get a nasty message from her and rightfully so.

Plus she was minding her own business. Boys will be boys, and it was apparent her husband had not matured since high school. Yeah, he probably still loved her but wanted to scratch an itch. He was probably in heat, feeling like he was getting old, and probably having such less sex because it was starting to produce kids. I am well aware men were created solely to cat around, it’s biology. So when I am with a dude, I tell him I know he’s gonna fuck around. But just be careful, don’t bring her or goodies home, and don’t tell me about it. Either way, she probably wasn’t as evolved as I was when it came to these things, and this was probably going to devastate her. While I am about being revolutionary in that sense, I am not about hurting other people who don’t deserve to be hurt.

If only men would adopt this principal, especially in being so cavalier about their exploits. But alas, when I got home I saw he had blocked me. WTF?! Where does this moron get off on blocking me?! What did I do?

Jake after his wife found out we had been talking. 

Then I knew exactly what happened. Jake, in his effort to get some pics for his spank bank, probably was not thinking with the right head and left his IM window open. His wife probably saw it, beat his ass, and made him block me. Jake, bored, sexually frustrated father of two’s fun is over. About now, he is probably taking residence in his backyard, and might be sleeping there until further notice. And maybe this isn’t Jake’s first infraction and he might be getting the burn notice.

Jake's wife 

Either way, Don is still the smoother of the two and his ass his dead. Still, it’s nice to know I am hotter than I was in high school, especially since as I mentioned I was a mopette chunkette. Did I mention that I do not envy the married? 

In loving memory of Don. We all shot you down when we lived but just as you got a kick out of the drugs I get a kick out of you. For the fun times we never had. And for Jake, knowing he is barred from ever contacting me again. Shame on his wife for ruining his party. Oops.....he kinda didn't just leave her out. But details, details.......

Ex's and Oh's (Elle King)

Lately I have been having a lot of conversations about relationships. Both of my housemates are straight men. One is divorced and has two sons, ages 18 and 20 respectively. The other is exactly one day older than me, born the same year. He is single but met a girl on instagram that sparked his fancy that lives in Austin. Living with two dudes has made me get more of a sense of humor about love, but made me realize yes, dudes do have feelings.

My divorced housemate whom I will call Don was married for 20 years. As he explained his wife used sex as a weapon. Eventually the sex disappeared and when it happened it was 3 minutes of pleasure that didn't make up for nearly 23 hours of pain that followed. As Don explains, he loves being a parent. He loves his sons. But as for getting married again, NEVER! He will have another kid, yes. But never another wife. Maybe she can live elsewhere Don surmises.

The other day Don and I were talking and the conversation turned to open relationships. Personally I think they are the wave of the future. Don brought up people have feelings and from a disease standpoint monogamy is safer. Plus if you can find a person who is a friend, has things in common, and the sex is great because both people are that committed you found your match. I asked if such a thing existed. Don said it must. But then we both agreed if we had the answers we would both have not been dateless on a Friday night.

My other housemate Al, like Don, is a painter. Al as I explained is enamored with a girl who lives in Austin that she met on instagram. The last girl Al dated was another painter he met in the gallery world. Yes, she was crazy. All female painters are crazy. Al found that one out the hard way. The girl on instagram is a writer. Al has faith she might not be as crazy as the painter. Truth: Female writers are cat shit crazy. I reminded him of Anne Sexton and her oven trove of adventures. Yes, I am making a tasteless joke. However, he surmised that while this was true at least it would not be painting discussions all the time which drove him over the edge.

Don suggested it was important Al met said lady in person. "She could be a real beast." Don advised. Then he told two stories. One was of a date he went on with a beautiful girl who turned out to be absolutely crazy and nearly killed him. The other was when he was fixed up with a troll looking chick who was the salt of the Earth but all these gorgeous girls were throwing themselves at him. But the troll had money. Don let the troll down easy. He wasn't into it. But the pretty girl had nearly killed him. The question is, can one ever win?

Of course than Don mentioned his ex wife was cute but not as pretty as he was into, and she was crazier than all the rest in the end. Yet she lured him in with gifts and such. Years later she tells her sons she chased their father and wonders what the hell she was thinking. He wonders what he was thinking taking the gifts. Love is a narcotic. When you are on it you are out of your damn mind, screw over those you really care about, and turn into a complete dick. Afterwards, you are forced to pick up the pieces.

My mom always said God doesn't give you everything. I still recall a Match.com date I went on where the guy walked in and was better looking than his picture. All these years I was lusting after Ashley Wilkes when I could have had Rhett Butler. The date went well for the first five minutes until he revealed his plans to overthrow the government. Then he mentioned all the other presidents were in a conspiracy. Ronald Reagan was the only one not aligned with this conspiracy because he didnt need to use a teleprompter let alone cue cards. In the words of Chris Rock, "When God puts it in a pretty package it's just to fuck with you."

And then there was the dude I met on Match who was my Ashley Wilkes. First date we hit it off and the dork squad texted into the night. Second date it was like who is the  wimp across from me. Third date I tried to give him a pep talk and made him cry. Am I mean or was he just nuts? Hell if I know.
In my chats with my housemates my last ex comes up quite a bit because he is recent. Don reminded me once that not anyone is all bad, and he even found some good qualities in his ex wife still. He reminds me there was a reason I liked my last ex who I will call Sam. Yeah, Sam and I ended because Sam was deceitful and lied about something huge. Maybe it was because he was in denial. Maybe it was to protect me. Or maybe it was because he just lies like all men do? Who knows.

But the truth was, Sam was generous to a fault. He would bend over backwards for his friends. At a rough time in my life, Sam was selfless with his efforts in order to get me back on my feet. When I was forced to replace 80 percent of what I owned, Sam showed up at my door with a bed and dressers. He brought me a purse and brought me food when I was too weak to move. Sam was patient when I had my breakdowns as my hair was falling out. He let me have my moments. Yeah, Sam had some good qualities.

In the end my last relationship was like a curiously built European car. No one could understand it. When it ran it ran beautifully. However, when it broke down it exploded like nothing I had ever seen and there was no fixing it. No way no how. Yes, it ended badly. All my relationships do. To date me is to hate me. I'll admit I am a jealous control freak who wants what she wants and she wants it now. My ambition always comes first and my lovers suffer. Plus Sam and I saw life two very different ways in the end. He was ready to settle down, I wasn't. If things didn't end when they did, Sam would have had issues with me going to Vegas like I do. He most certainly didnt want me going to Europe.
In reality, we were people who started out as friends that should have stayed friends. He hates my guts now. I have no feelings on him either way. You see, I don't like how he lied to me, but wish him the best as a person. He has some things to figure out. We all do. And maybe Sam would have been more honest with me if I was at a better place in my life. I don't know. It's over and we probably will never be friends again. Actually, I can say that with accurate certainty. But it's fine. All is fair in love and war.

The truth is, this was my first big foray into being monogamous and I think I did a good job. I hadnt been faithful to a partner since my former fiance. Sam and I operated as a unit to the point where it was scary. I had plenty of chances to cheat but didn't. Through the grapevine I heard Sam was planning on getting some side action with a would be actress/waitress and an old girlfriend from South Jersey where he was from.

The revelation didn't upset me when I found out long after our relationship ended. Because truth being, I was being lured in by an old comedian friend and another dude I had something with once upon a time. Not to mention the nephew of a prominent New York City judge was beginning to pique my interest. While I didn't bite, the offers were on the table and things got harder and harder to resist.
Maybe both of us wouldn't have been exploding out of our skins if we just agreed on having an open relationship. Yes, I would have a date night with another dude and Sam would have a date night with another woman. Sam was more blue collar and was a genius with sheet rock. It was dead sexy, but ultimately when I said the names Thomas Paine and Albert Camus his eyes went bored. I still remember chatting with a vegan history professor about them and being oh so turned on. Then Sam walked in and I felt guilty. If I could have did the business with the professor and came home to Sam all would have worked out well.

Sam had throngs of women throwing themselves at him. He was funny and good with his hands not to mention kind hearted. They drooled over the flexing of his muscles in a primal way that I never could muster let alone understand. My need for intellectual stimulation frightened Sam because it meant I didnt always need him, and I know he needed a break from the history references and the talk of an ambitious, driven woman. What Sam wanted was someone to cook for him and worship him. I don't do those things to men. If he could have had a date night with one of them on the same night I had my date night, it could have eliminated a lot. Plus I think we could have been happier.

It was a relationship where he knew he couldn't give me certain things and vice versa. Had we opened it up, I think maybe, just maybe, everyone could have gotten their needs met. Because we didn't open it up, what happened was resentment built that is eternal and lasting on both ends. I think had we opened it up and if we decided we didn't work, we could have remained friends. However, he viciously hates my guts and that's fine. His friends and family distain me as well. Wouldnt expect anything less, it's the way these things always shake out. 

I did suggest opening it up at one point because I could feel Sam's unhappiness growing with me. Instead of being on board he accused me of wanting to cheat. And then he went on a jealous rant about feelings and heart and blah, blah, blah. At the beginning he wanted monogamy and made me promise that, but towards the end I think he secretly regretted it. This outdated social norm was the rope that was hanging us both cold and dead.

Maybe that's why I got as jealous as I did at times. It wasn't because he was a bad guy who didn't care about me. It wasnt even that he didn't love me, he would have given me the world. I think I knew deep down we both had an itch we needed to scratch and unmet needs on both ends. It wasn't so much about what he was doing, it was because I was so aware of mine that I became painfully attuned to his.

In a way it was a blessing things ended the way they did and when they did. We hurt each other at times, and a lot. It wasn't because we were bad people, it was because we knew we couldn't give each other everything and we wanted to so badly to where it was just plain painful to watch.  I know I would have been the first to cheat and felt the urge but I didn't want to lose Sam. Had things been open we wouldn't have had that issue though. Because my partner wouldn't give me that option, I would have been christened the bad girl lacking morals and would have had a crown of thorns placed on my head. It's not that Sam wanted to oppress me, his upbringing and the world he was from couldnt fathom that option.  In reality, I wasn't bad or evil. I was a person simply bowing to the basest of human instincts like we all do at times.

Whether you want to cheat or not, monogamy is like Vietnam, the memory messes with a person's mind. After my relationship ended, and even though Sam does not want me back and vice versa, I felt my first date with another dude I was cheating. He took me to a nicer place than Sam could ever afford and brought me flowers, but it felt as if Sam was watching me the entire time.  I wasn't doing anything wrong. But society has brainwashed people so badly to make them a slave to the paradigm that the second you question it or break away, you are akin to a slave on the Underground Railroad running to your freedom. I have seen said gentlemen twice since then and both times have been lovely. And I want to see him again.

Then I did scratch the itch with the judge's nephew who has spent a ton of money on me and took me to places Sam would never step in let alone dream of as he joked about being a trust fund brat. We ate lobster, talked Camus and Thomas Paine, and even laughed about literature.  But the judge's nephew has a long time lady friend who he is with but not really. They sleep in two different rooms and it's complicated. He does what he does and she does what she does, not questions asked. I don't want serious and neither does he. People would say he's cheating and I'm the other woman. But we aren't hurting anyone and I am having fun. And I want to see him again, too.

In Coming of Age in Samoa, Margaret Mead surmised someone should have three partners in their life. Each should be for 7 years, and at the end of that term you should decide if you want to renew or not. And if you do renew for another term, don't renew for another 7. Essentially a romantic partner is like an apartment. There are people who have decried Ms. Mead and said she is full of baloney. Yet in this world 50 percent of marriages end in divorce. It's not always because both people don't love each other and that they are bad. People grow, people change, people get bored, people evolve. Relationships also run their course, and we must realize this without the malice typically involved in a split.

I still remember being in high school, working as a lifeguard and regularly being propositioned by married men. They all agreed they loved their wives but that they were bored. Yes, bored. They all said she was a good woman and a good mother but they craved that new adventure and then would tuck it away to go back home. And even those that were too pure to proposition me admitted to looking at porn. One got in big trouble because his wife found his search engine history. It wasn't that he didn't love her. The man had needs. It's not that she wasn't enough.......it was complicated.

It's all complicated. People cheat for a myriad of reasons and the person they cheat with isn't always a Playboy/Play Girl model type. Heck, I have been cheated on a bunch of times. My former fiance cheated on me with a former girlfriend I will call Busty. She was a bigger girl, which made me do a double take when I found out she was the side piece. But Busty was attractive not to mention a semi-celebrity on the roller derby circuit. When I bitched about it, people cited she could have had a better personality. Maybe she did, I never met her so I can't comment on her either way. However my ex cheated with her so I didn't care for her therefore she was  a bitch by default at the time. But then others saw her picture and exclaimed, "She's fat and ugly! What was he thinking!" He was thinking he had needs that needed to be met and I wasn't the woman to do it.

Isaac regularly dated other women as he dated me, but got upset when I did the same with guys. The much older Playboy with the Park Avenue apartment was once out with this frumpy would be writer who sometimes contributed to some feminist blog that no one besides feminists care about. She was cute, but not pretty. The lady looked like she had never seen a tube of lipstick. I remember she was pleasant enough. Isaac tried to pretend he was parading her around to make me jealous and it kind of worked.......but then I started talking to her, liked her, and came to the conclusion Isaac was the idiot not her. Still, she was closer to his age and I wasn't. She understood how to have a good time and let go whereas I was a clingy kid. We all have our strengths I suppose.

And of course there was Paul who was on the run and working as a male stripper and rent boy. While living California, he called me from the home of his "sugar mama" to tell me he still loved me. I saw a picture of his sugar mama and she was easily 200 pounds. Not only was she bank rolling him and his coke habit, but she had three kids. Yeah, it was shitty and he was using her. But she wanted to be used. At the same time, although I was easily better looking I hated her guts because I loved Paul so much even though he was a terrible mistake. But feelings are not facts, they just are. In the end she found out Paul was calling me and had a shit fit. But he needed funds in addition to emotional support. As I said, one person cannot give us everything......

While Sam never cheated, as I mentioned he was getting ready to. The actress/waitress he was going back and fourth with on facebook that I will call Pasha adored him to no end and seemed to need him. Sam was the type who needed to be needed. I wouldn't say she was pretty or ugly, but she was distinct looking. I saw some of her youtube videos and she is a good actress, and she could be great someday. Ultimately, she decided to forgo Sam for a homeless, married man because the poor thing is more invested in good decision making than I am. I met her once and did like her. I hope she's okay. The other girl he wanted to get it on with was a girl named Jennika who had 3 kids and had her ex desert her. While she wasn't unpretty, she wasn't above a 6. She also wasn't the achiever I am. Yet at the same time she was probably a better cook than I was and like Pasha, needed a man whereas I don't.  Sam needed to feel important and valued and I wasn't giving that to him, and maybe it was because I didn't know how. Freak if I know......

When each of my relationships ended in disaster they were truly over. I can honestly say while I am no angel, there was no ultimate bad guy on either end either. In each case, we were all people who had a journey together and that journey was ultimately over. We had run our course. The lease to this schlepp truck was not being renewed. We were all relieved.

This is where relationships become like free therapy sans the Freud couch. We all claim that they are the bad guy when we seldom look at our role in things. But we want to point the finger because as I said, relationships are akin to therapy, and we learn truths about ourselves we don't want to learn. Maybe that's why break ups are hard. We don't adore them, they weren't so great. It's because we beat ourselves up for being such pathetic doormats who forgo what we really believe in because we sell out to the social norm that it is better to have a partner who pisses you off than to be alone and happy. Or we realize how much we gave of ourselves when really we couldn't give them everything and were pissed we tried in the first place.

Then there is always the bullshit promise we will do things different next time but we never do. I'll admit I will always be the same jealous, self-centered hot mess with trust issues. My puppets and my career will always come before any man. I don't cook, clean, or do laundry and never will. I am iffy about wanting a family and marriage is eh. That being said, at least I'm honest which is more than can be said for any man I have ever been with let alone most people out there. I do some things right and need to give myself credit somewhere.

Do open relationships work and can they? I have 2 friends a witch and magister in the Church of Satan respectively. Their relationship is open, and it is more honest and healthy than anything I have ever seen. Each has a date night and then they compare notes. At times I don't understand it because it is like nothing I have ever seen. But they are truthful in a way no couple I have ever met is, and not to mention their ethics are amazing when it comes to the rest of the world. They come to the aid of those who are bullied constantly. Not to mention they are good friends with their other sexual partners and at the same time love each other unconditionally. While there are those who judge the witch and the magister, maybe they have stumbled upon utopia in the way the rest of the world hasn't.

On the other hand, I had another friend do an open relationship with a vampire dungeon mistress as the man on the side. She fell in love with him and her husband got jealous. In the end, he used her lifestyle against her in order to get full custody of their kids when he had been game for an open relationship before all this went down. Then my buddy married her and she picked up a female side piece with mental and emotional issues who later fell in love with my pal's wife. In the end, she tried to kill my pal and his wife and was led away in a straight jacket. That time it didn't work.

Maybe it was because they didn't have boundaries or people developed feelings. But I also think it was because people wanted control. Long after the fact I found out my bud's wife was jealous of me because she thought he wanted me  because he called me talking for hours about the depth of their relationship. Meanwhile she had no reason to be jealous. She had a date night with someone else. So again, maybe they needed to figure some things out.

But then there was the dude when I was 22 who lied and said he was in an open relationship. I didnt know this until his wife called me to scream. Alas, they should have had an open, honest discussion. Nonetheless, I do believe open relationships are the wave of the future.

My mom disagrees. She says, "Women will continue to be jealous. Men will continue to be possessive. People will continue to die."

Who knows? I wish I had the answer. If I did I wouldn't be writing this blog. I know one thing for sure though. Hell will be a round table support group with each of my ex boyfriends exchanging notes and me walking in on the meeting. Eh, what can you do, right?

One Love (Whodini)

There is a lot of talk about whether or not a person can be faithful to one. You see some people married for 65 plus years, like my Nunni and Pop Pop were before they both passed. Heck they were so intertwined they passed within months of each other. On the other hand, there are some people who can’t seem to stay loyal to one partner. It’s blamed on a character flaw by some. Others call them sex addicts. I don’t know. Or then sometimes people cheat, but then they are cheated on. Disney tells us the Prince and the Princess live happily ever after. Really though, it’s more complicated.

When I was younger, I was pretty much wired like a woman when it came to relationships. There were committed couples around me. My parents have been married 40 plus years, and my aunts and uncles are all going strong. I had the understanding love wasn’t always perfect but you tried your best. We are crazy in my family in other ways, but we don’t divorce. Instead we test the law of science by getting struck by lighting and working as lab test subjects. Oh, and we also test the legal system, both as counsel and defendant. But no divorce here. In a relationship you were in it to win it, end of story.

In high school, I remember it was the first time I realized things could get a tad complicated. Enter Bobby Parker. I was what was termed as a good girl. As in, National Honor Society plus a zillion other resume builders, career oriented and solely volunteer plus a part time minimum wage paying job at the supermarket. Bobby on the other hand was a pot head who was slowly making his way to other drugs. We had always been friends, and I found him bright and easy to talk to.

Well Bobby had a girlfriend three towns over who had a rep for being easy. The dudes said she could “chug it like a champ.” Bobby would give me rides home from school more often than not, and would fight anyone who said anything bad about me. His friends gave him smack for talking to me, but he kept on doing it. Bobby’s girlfriend found out about me through a jealous friend in that druggie circle. Although we never met, word on the street was she wasn’t happy with me. Yeah, I liked Bobby and Bobby liked me. But she was still his girlfriend. Basically, he got his intellectual/emotional fix from talking to me and his physical fix by having trashy (probably unprotected) teen sex in the back seat of his Caddy. Years later, he has kicked drugs and is married. He barely keeps in contact, and I understand and appreciate the boundary. Maybe these days he is getting all his needs fulfilled. But he had a physical relationship with one of us and an emotional relationship with the other. So yeah, love can be complicated.

That summer, I worked as a lifeguard and saw married man after married man try to proposition me to the steam room like I was some cheap trick. It never worked. Some of it was dignity, but then there was the fact my mother was my boss, too. They all confessed they loved their wives but were bored. It’s nature. Men are physical creatures where as women are emotional creatures. Hell, there is even adultery in nature. It served a purpose in continuing the species in time of famine. The men of the species would copulate with every woman in the little nest or whatnot. And then when the babies were born, the men would all guard them. That’s the nature explanation. My mom says it’s because some men are assholes who go crazy when they get out of their cage. Who knows?

That’s why The Seven Year Itch was such a hit. Idiot’s wife goes away with kid. Idiot plays for a few days with the hot neighbor. Idiot goes back to join the wifey. Happily ever after…..kindof.

When I got to college, I wanted a boyfriend because I never had one. Most of the guys just wanted to lose their virginity if they hadn’t already. Guys peak sexually at 18-22. So it was of course going to happen, the horn dog. I dated a little my first year. Every time I had a boyfriend type, he would turn out to be a horn dog and just cheat. It was amazing how these guys could just cheat without thinking about it. Yeah, I had been the other woman in the Bobby Parker teen triangle. It fucked with my head I will admit. But I knew he was somebody else’s guy. Sure, the married dudes approached me for hand jobs in the steam room. I didn’t give them. They were married. It seemed no one had a moral compass but myself.

I finally started dating one dude I really liked. He was a bit older than I was. A trust fund kid, he had an awesome apartment with a bachelor bar. We hit it off, and he wanted all the benefits and then some change of being Mr. April Brucker without the title. It hurt. But he explained he was quite a bit older, and knew I would change my mind. I tried dating dudes my age, but never connected with them the way I connected with Prince Semi-Charming. When Prince Semi-Charming would find out, he would throw a hissy fit. Yet it was alright for him to see other women. Once I even decided to put an end to the madness and asked, “Would it be alright if I called you my boyfriend? I am here an awful lot.”

Prince Semi-Charming replied, “April, that is a great way to scare a guy off.” Months later, in a drunken fit, I told him how I felt before throwing up on his carpet. He rejected me. That was the end of the end. I was done. However, Prince Semi-Charming was only beginning. As soon as I met my fiancé he stepped up his game and tried harder than ever to win me back. Once, he made a joke about a ventriloquist giving him a blow job, and my fiancé nearly killed him right then and there. Of course the madness with the fiancé ended, and Prince Semi-Charming rode back into the picture calling me night and day. Nevermind he had a girlfriend that would eventually become his wife. I was done, completely done. He even sent me an inappropriate message his wedding day. No wonder his wife hates me.

These days, he sees me every once in a while. For the most part, we actually get along better now that we aren’t so entwined in our codependent cycle. But as I said his wife hates me. Every once in a while, when I see him, he will bring up the fact that we dated, typically in front of a group of people who don’t know that we did. Usually he does this when I am in an up mood or there is a joke about a relationship someone tells. Part of me thinks he might not be happy with his wife, who is a bit of a battle axe. The other part of me thinks he’s goofy. Then there is a part of me that thinks yeah, he’s happy. But he still has feelings for me. He loves us both. His wife hates the site of me, but he loves us both. For the record, I don’t seek him out and we havent spoken in almost a year and a half. Probably for the best.

Of course, the break up with the fiancé was messy as I have described. During the relationship there was a lot of jealous, destructive behavior on both ends. I flipped out at an ex of his he was intriguing with, and wasn’t proud. Of course, I began to suspect he was sleeping with a stripper ex who a decent amount of money in the lotto. It pissed me off because I had been loyal. Things ended like an explosion in a nuclear waste plant. He began sleeping with another ex of his who was working as a hair dresser of some sort. She was developing a serious heroin problem, and slowly was getting worse and worse as were her decisions. Hence her letting my ex in her life. In addition to her heroin habit draining her wallet, she was also paying my ex’s bills.

I still remember finding this out when my ex messaged me in order to get me back. Yeah, he had cheated. I had been awful. It was a terrible relationship but we loved each other. I confronted him about sleeping with the druggie hair dresser. To which my ex replied, “Yeah, but I don’t want her back. After being with you, I can’t go back to something that ugly for real.”

Now this is where it gets crazy. When I wouldn’t take him back he flipped out. I got the different mailing address. Yet this hair dresser chick would send me nasty emails and say terrible things about me. Bitch, do you know what your man is saying about you? Do you know he called you ugly? And doesn’t it feel a little weird and pathetic to have a dude fucking you, yet he is stalking his ex night and day? Only a tad dysfunctional, don’t you think? Of course, I can’t say I was any better. I tried dating and would purge my guts on my dates scaring any potential, decent boyfriends off. But hey, the opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. There was no way either of us was going to be loyal to anyone when we were still spending all of our energy sparring with each other.

Leaving that relationship felt like getting released from jail. That is when I decided to have fun. I partied in any day that ended in a “y.” I dated several trust fund playboy types living off family money. Others were ex-cons, recently released from jail and hadn’t had a lady in a while and were willing to just give me a whirl. Dates were fun, care free, and dirty jokes and booze flowed like water. I was having so much fun part of me never wanted a boyfriend again. I suddenly began to understand why people wanted open relationships, to swing, and every other kind of committed or not lifestyle. Suddenly I began to wonder if monogamy ever worked, or people just forced themselves into it because it was what they were supposed to do.

Then there were those who wanted more, and I told them they couldn’t give it. I always ended up hurting them. Once, two dudes got into a fight over me because one said he was okay with fun and then wasn’t when he saw me with someone else. Sure, I felt like a sadist. Yet I wasn’t the liar. He was. He said he was okay with fun. However, maybe he was until he suddenly morphed into a human. Maybe we all are until we morph into humans. I don’t know.

During that period in my life, before things got too crazy, I ended up at a swinger’s party by accident. I just knew it was a couples get together in the erotic fashion, and it was a chance to perform ventriloquism and get paid. As the evening went on, I found out it was a swingers event. Several women in the room gave their husband’s permission to sleep with me as long as we didn’t get attached. It sounded like an awesome idea actually. That is, until the surprise orgy erupted. Clothes came off, and these were some ugly bodies. Yes, clothes were designed for these people-especially these people. I tried to leave but they kept sucking me back into the orgy, forcibly pulling my hands. Was this what hell was like? Being sucked into an orgy of ugly people? I did not know. Either way, I determined perhaps not only the swinger lifestyle was not for me but maybe, just maybe, things were getting a tad too crazy.

So I tried to do the whole boyfriend thing again. At first it was nice. Having a guy around was nice. We had nice dinners. We had nice times. He was nice when he met my mom. Nice. Yet, underneath I didn’t feel right in the relationship. I tried my hardest to be a good girlfriend, but always failed. Either I would just end up fighting with him, or wouldn’t pick up the phone when he called because I just couldn’t. Soon, I began to look elsewhere to satisfy myself. Yes, I turned into a cheater. That thing I had hated in college. The loyal, moral compass was gone. I couldn’t help myself, and I cheated constantly. The relationship ended, and it felt like a relief. Finally, I didn’t have to be inauthentic anymore, and once again I could leave jail. I wish I understood why I behaved the way I did, and I still feel like a bad person. I avoid him when I can, which is often. Still, I came to the conclusion maybe I am not wired to be monogamous. And maybe this is why some people cheat. It’s not about being a dirt bag. It’s about nature being a bitch, and us getting hang ups about it.

Of course, I have also looked into the whole open relationship thing since then. It is semi-commonplace in the gay world, and they manage to make it work. Other friends of mine, where one partner is bi, also have this arrangement. I have one friend couple that it works very well in. The husband is a priest in the Church of Satan, and his wife is a practicing member. They sleep with their “side pieces” and respect the primary partner. In a strange way, their union is more honest and pure than many of my married friends-gay and straight. They know who is hooking up with who. It took me a while to wind my head around the fact that there was no jealousy, only understanding in their arrangement. Yet every once in a while, a third party does come in who tries to ruin things between them. Their bond prevails, but it’s a wonder neither has been shot.

I have also seen an open relationship erupt into flames. Once a guy I know was in a polyamorous arrangement with a dungeon mistress and her husband. He fell in love with the dungeon mistress, and her husband nearly killed him in a jealous rage. The two left her house, and moved in together. That is when they brought in a third girl working as a stripper. The dungeon mistress and the stripper got a relationship going, and then kicked out my boy. Needless to say he turned into a jealous stalker type. Too much drama.

Of course sometimes it is more open on one end than it is the other. Once, a married dude assured me he had an open relationship. We hung out and had fun. I wanted to see him again, that is, until I got a call from his wife biting my head off. She told me she wanted to shoot me. I told her that her husband said they had an open relationship. She informed me again she would shoot me if she ever saw me. Needless to say, I don’t think she got the memo about their arrangement. So much for that.

Yet also, I think sometimes people might be jungle cats in one part of their life, but be loyal in another. One is my friend Nishu, who was such a playboy back in the day. He only dated fetish models until he met his lady Jill. Not only has he been a good boyfriend, but he has been loyal and giving to the point where it is amazing. My brother Wendell’s friend Biff from college had a bedroom door that was basically revolving until he met his wife Lydia. Not only is he a loyal husband, but they just had their first child and he is all about being a dad. Even my fellow jungle kitten friend Nina is talking about getting serious with the new man she is with. No, she is not sleeping with throngs of men like she used to in the old days. Note, maybe all couldn’t commit to a relationship, but they were loving family members and awesome friends. So maybe it there, they just had to find the right person if you will.

Still, what constitutes cheating? Is a husband looking at porn after being a good guy and father grounds for divorce? If a guy needs to go to a strip club the night of his bachelor party, is he truly not ready to be married? If things get emotional and deep with a male/female friendship to the point where there is an attraction that isnt acted on, is that cheating as well? Again, this is when it all gets complicated.

Once I was discussing how open relationships might be the wave of the future with my mom and sister Skipper. Of course, Skipper was starting to get serious with Boomer and this was the last thing she wanted to hear. My mom stopped me. She said, “That will never work. Women will be jealous, men will continue to be possessive. People will continue to die.”

Sigh.

Monogamy or polyamory? What is the answer. Jury is still out. 

Why Do Guys Lie and Cheat

My roommate and I were talking about why guys lie. Though being a gay man, he is still a dude which is why it was interesting to have this conversation with him. He said guys lie because they are insecure and are afraid of rejection. I disagree. I think guys lie because it’s biology. They want to get their dick sucked and stick it in a wet smelly hole of some sort and have to use any line to make that possible. So if it is a lie that does it then so be it. So essentially they are fucking evil by nature.


They cheat too. They leave out info that they are married and then it comes as a surprise when the bombshell is dropped. I think the problem with people, and this is why maybe men are forced to lie, is people are the only creatures who practice monogamy. That whole concept is a waste of time. Men are always cheating and it’s not because they don’t love the woman at home, they just want every woman they see. Why do humans have to be the only creatures with feelings? Screws everything up.

Then again I should talk. I am the only human woman in the world who despises relationships and wants to play the field. One guy told me he wanted to be my boyfriend and I asked, “Does that mean I can’t see other people?” It sort of bummed me out actually. I want to see lots of people. It’s not that I don’t like him. I like all of them. Now if only all of them had a job. That would be the trick. Plus when he acted all pissed that I wanted to see other people I told him he was going to cheat anyway which ticked him off. Turns out he didn’t want to be my boyfriend and proceeded to get a girlfriend elsewhere. Well he cheated on this girl eventually. So who was right?

Why do guys lie and cheat? Is it nature, insecurity, or the fact that are all a race of rat bastard dead beats who just want a hole to stick it in? Weigh in here. Xo April