Found myself driving up and down the road checking in on Stash Skimington’s farmhouse, obsessing over my wife stopping in there. Pretty pathetic, I know. As far as I can figure, her visit there after work lasted about 8 minutes. She probably just talked over the leaky sink, wrote him out a check, but I guess you never can tell.
Last time me and Phebe were together on Ground Hog Day we pretty much covered the whole gamut in less then 8 minutes time. They could have done a quarter of the gamut in that time, I suppose. It’s not like they would have been in practice enough to complete the whole gamut in 8 minutes.
Last girlfriend Stash had was into miniature horses and alpacas and all that shit. She had all the paddocks around Stash’s barn filled up with a menagerie not realizing Stash didn’t own any of the land anymore and that the new owner was seeking approval for a new road to be put in right through the very place where all those animals stood. Apparently Stash tried to keep this under wraps as long as he could, but one day the heavy machinery arrived and the truth was revealed. Someone said the gal was seen chasing Stash around with an elastic band alpaca castrating tool, but I don’t know how true that story is.
I really don’t know what got into me. I found myself driving over to Probation Officer Barbie’s neighborhood too. I drove by her house a couple of times, didn’t see hide nor hair of her. Didn’t realize I was being noticed by the brute husband, though. I thought to myself, oh, shit! He hopped in the car and followed me for a couple of miles on the back roads. Drove right up on my tail, the psycho menace. Thought for sure the fucker was gonna start shooting at me or something. Eventually the fucker decides to pass me. Or so it seems at first he’s gonna pass me. But what he’s really doing is cutting me off, driving me off the road. The fucker’s got me run half off the road down in a ditch. Thankfully I didn’t bust up the steering or blow out the tire, but I have all I can do to inch my way back onto the pavement.
The fucker turns his car around and drives past me slowly, glaring at me with this angry, psycho look. I was probably lucky the cop came along just then. He wanted to know what happened, of course. I could have told him, I was driven off the road by my probation officer’s psycho husband after he saw me drive up and down past her house, but somehow it just seemed too complicated.
Damn deer ran right out in front of me, I say.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
02/15/01
I woke up this morning to find Stash Skimington’s truck parked outside the house. I was pissed. The first thought that came to mind was that he must have spent Valentine’s night in my bed screwing Phebe. By the time I got to the house, Phebe was on her way out the door in a hurry, leaving for work. She said she had to call Stash because she noticed some water leaking under the sink in the bathroom. Had to ask why she was going and calling Stash when I was right there down the lane to help. She was in a pissy mood, said she didn’t think I would want to be bothered. She bristled, said now I was gonna make her late for work holding her up like that, making her explain things.
Maybe you don’t know what it’s like to have a boss to face, but I do, she says.
Actually, I think I do know what it‘s like to have a boss to face, I say recklessly, how many years we’ve been married?
I knew I was saying awful things, but as long as that snooping fucker Stash was up there in my house, how the hell was I supposed to act?
After Phebe left I went inside the house to make sure Stash was really there to work on the pipes, and then I stood over his shoulder the whole time while he replaced a compression fitting under the sink. Made sure he didn’t wander around looking through all our shit. I mean Phebe’s shit.
He asked me again if I’d rent the farm to him. I told him hell no.
The fucker then says he has to get $200 for the repair. All I can think to myself is, Do you know how much scrap metal I have to haul to get $200?
So I say to Stash, you’ll have to get the money from Phebe. She’s the one with the checkbook.
Stash laughs, says, yeah, I know.
Fucker.
Maybe you don’t know what it’s like to have a boss to face, but I do, she says.
Actually, I think I do know what it‘s like to have a boss to face, I say recklessly, how many years we’ve been married?
I knew I was saying awful things, but as long as that snooping fucker Stash was up there in my house, how the hell was I supposed to act?
After Phebe left I went inside the house to make sure Stash was really there to work on the pipes, and then I stood over his shoulder the whole time while he replaced a compression fitting under the sink. Made sure he didn’t wander around looking through all our shit. I mean Phebe’s shit.
He asked me again if I’d rent the farm to him. I told him hell no.
The fucker then says he has to get $200 for the repair. All I can think to myself is, Do you know how much scrap metal I have to haul to get $200?
So I say to Stash, you’ll have to get the money from Phebe. She’s the one with the checkbook.
Stash laughs, says, yeah, I know.
Fucker.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
02/14/01
Got a visit from a new probation officer today. Was told Barbie was on indefinite leave. Guy said he couldn’t disclose anything more about her. I ask the guy if I was in trouble. He says I don’t know, why don’t you tell me if you are.
Stupid me I thought I was busted for being spotted in the sporting goods store in proximity to guns yesterday.
I say I was just at Thruway Market to look at the fishing poles.
He just stared at me for a few seconds like I was a fucking idiot, then says, fishing poles? What?
Guy says---guys name is Bob I think---we’ve received word you were observed in your victim’s neighborhood recently, 1,010 feet from his property line in fact. You put yourself 10 feet between jail and freedom.
I reply my beagle got out and was humping the neighbor’s fluff dog. I’m pretty sure the lady regarded it as an emergency. She sure seemed happy to have me there to pull my dog off and haul it away. I guess me and rascal were both sort of caught up in the moment. 10 feet to spare, huh? I was figuring it more like 15 to 20.
I don’t think the guy believed me, but I said from planting crops all these years I can judge distances pretty accurately and I was pretty confident I wasn’t violating the order of protection even though I knew I was coming close to it.
If an order says a 1,000 feet, you should be thinking 2,000 feet, he says
I’m just thinking to myself, why didn’t the fucking judge order 2,000 feet then?
Guy starts looking around the farm in every direction, then says, hey, you wouldn’t have disposed of a dead deer on your property recently, would you have?
No, not at all, I reply.
Because someone told me you did, he says
Well that just not true, I answer.
He says, you sure?
I say, damn so!
In fact I dropped Barbie’s dead deer off at Taciturn Vern’s so he could take the hide off it. The rest of the carcasses he usually renders for his dogs. The deer was never disposed on my property.
I think I’ll call my new probation officer Cupid Boy, as he unexpectedly descended upon my world from on high today seemingly just to shoot arrows in my ass.
Stupid me I thought I was busted for being spotted in the sporting goods store in proximity to guns yesterday.
I say I was just at Thruway Market to look at the fishing poles.
He just stared at me for a few seconds like I was a fucking idiot, then says, fishing poles? What?
Guy says---guys name is Bob I think---we’ve received word you were observed in your victim’s neighborhood recently, 1,010 feet from his property line in fact. You put yourself 10 feet between jail and freedom.
I reply my beagle got out and was humping the neighbor’s fluff dog. I’m pretty sure the lady regarded it as an emergency. She sure seemed happy to have me there to pull my dog off and haul it away. I guess me and rascal were both sort of caught up in the moment. 10 feet to spare, huh? I was figuring it more like 15 to 20.
I don’t think the guy believed me, but I said from planting crops all these years I can judge distances pretty accurately and I was pretty confident I wasn’t violating the order of protection even though I knew I was coming close to it.
If an order says a 1,000 feet, you should be thinking 2,000 feet, he says
I’m just thinking to myself, why didn’t the fucking judge order 2,000 feet then?
Guy starts looking around the farm in every direction, then says, hey, you wouldn’t have disposed of a dead deer on your property recently, would you have?
No, not at all, I reply.
Because someone told me you did, he says
Well that just not true, I answer.
He says, you sure?
I say, damn so!
In fact I dropped Barbie’s dead deer off at Taciturn Vern’s so he could take the hide off it. The rest of the carcasses he usually renders for his dogs. The deer was never disposed on my property.
I think I’ll call my new probation officer Cupid Boy, as he unexpectedly descended upon my world from on high today seemingly just to shoot arrows in my ass.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
02/13/01
Didn’t sleep last night thinking about Rocky being in danger in prison. Went to Percy’s duplex in Maybrook in the morning, told him about the mobster guy trying to get money from me to spare Rocky harm. Percy agreed I was right not to shell out to the guy. He said once you start paying out to those thugs they’ll never let you off after that and you‘re not any bit more secure in paying. He said I needed to see Rocky right away, though, let him know to be extra careful, someone might be planning to take him out as we speak. So we started North up Rt. 208 toward Wallkill Prison before Percy heard my stomach growl loudly and stopped to treat me to breakfast at the Walden Diner. Had a ton to eat. Pancakes, eggs, breakfast sausages. Bacon. Oversized buttered toast. Tall glasses of orange juice. Real brewed coffee. Raspberry pastry.
Rocky was pretty stoic about everything, said if someone jumps him he’ll just have to fight them off as best he can. If I die, I die. He said he knew how to handle himself and I didn’t need to worry. I couldn’t help thinking Rocky was coming off like someone in the final stages of terminal illness who had grown to accept death. I was pretty much thinking with Rocky changed so much this way maybe I had to take it all as a sign. I was thinking maybe this will be the last time I see Rocky alive.
On the way back through Walden, Percy got me a quart of shrimp lo mien and asked me to look over some fishing poles at the Thruway Market. All those guns nearby to look over. I had to resist getting too close to them. You never know who’s watching.
I don’t know why--- maybe it was from having all that food to eat--- but I started feeling a little better for a little while.
That was my romantic day with the Attractive Nuisance.
Rocky was pretty stoic about everything, said if someone jumps him he’ll just have to fight them off as best he can. If I die, I die. He said he knew how to handle himself and I didn’t need to worry. I couldn’t help thinking Rocky was coming off like someone in the final stages of terminal illness who had grown to accept death. I was pretty much thinking with Rocky changed so much this way maybe I had to take it all as a sign. I was thinking maybe this will be the last time I see Rocky alive.
On the way back through Walden, Percy got me a quart of shrimp lo mien and asked me to look over some fishing poles at the Thruway Market. All those guns nearby to look over. I had to resist getting too close to them. You never know who’s watching.
I don’t know why--- maybe it was from having all that food to eat--- but I started feeling a little better for a little while.
That was my romantic day with the Attractive Nuisance.
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