Wednesday, January 20, 2021

Why My Favorite Nanny Job Did Not Last

My favorite nanny job was in Wappingers Falls, near Poughkeepsie in upstate New York. That being said, it was, still, nowhere near ideal, by a long shot. There were problems from the very beginning and those got steadily worse, overshadowing it all, eventually, to the point of ruin. I loved the kids I was there to care for though, more than any others I was a nanny to, during all my forays into that career field. They were the ones I truly got attached to; so my heart broke, over leaving them. Especially knowing the situation they were in, with no one, that should have been there, for them, being there, for them, for a variety of reasons. My own childhood had been shattered by my parents' marital problems which came out of the same self-centeredness, that these girls' parents demonstrated. People don't realize, or really think, hard, about, or care, enough, about the harm their marital problems end up causing the children who are in the middle of that. Parents are at the core of a child's sense of security, and stability. When that is eroded, it is like the solid ground they had thought they were standing on turns to shifting sand under their feet. It never feels alright, again, after that, to a child. I know, firsthand, because my life was, deeply, affected by this, growing up, and I saw it again, with these 4 girls, that I was hired to be the nanny for. Just like, it had done to me, it changed their lives, and them. Far too often innocents pay for the sins of the perpetrators.

My divorce, from Tom, was finalizing, including my financial support which the Air Force required him to provide me, as his dependent, while still, legally, married. I also, sadly, would now be required to relinquish my military dependent ID as well, meaning that I could no longer go onto the Air Force base on my own, so I had to leave all my, fun, and freeing, social whirl behind me. Tom had been in Korea and living with his yobo. When I found that out, I wanted a divorce; and I had moved to an apartment directly across from the Air Force base, in order to access all the amenities, and, the eager-to-chase-me servicemen, for some flirting, and fun, of my own as the balm for my broken heart. Because I dated these military men on my terms for a change, it didn't present the problems that it had, for me, when I was enlisted, myself, and, was even stationed at this very base. The worst, of my encounters, with men in the military, when I was serving, was when my, married, commander, attempted to force me into a sexual relationship with him. I refused, but experiencing that was so traumatic for me that it cost me my military career, because I realized I couldn't function, and certainly couldn't thrive, as an Airman, in that environment. My military record had been exemplary, prior to that time. I had enjoyed the, harmless, flirtation, and all the dates, I had gone on, during my divorce from Tom. He had acted more like, a rebellious, ungrateful, teenage, son, to me, than a husband, in any way. I had to decide what to do next, with my life, at this point. That marriage had been such a huge disappointment. In every way.

I was 30 years old, by this time, and already getting my third divorce! Although I had always looked younger than my actual age, it was still, generally, considered to be 'getting up there' in age for being an exotic dancer, so I thought I would try employment using the Caregiver skills, I also had, at this point, to see if a nanny job could finally get any real traction. There are plenty of challenges in doing this kind of domestic employment however, not the least of which is that you have to live where you work and work where you live. This causes the job to overshadow everything about your own life, 24/7. It also tends to greatly magnify what is not working well with the situation since, with no escaping it, it works on your nerves until it can seem overwhelming. A little irritation can quickly become a huge turn off, when you can't ever get any mental, emotional, or physical, distance, from it.  I had something to offer this industry as a former Certified Nursing Assistant and homemaker. My being somewhat older than many nannies was considered a plus as well due to having more 'life experience', in general. The agency had matched me with this family because I was older than the usual nannies that were in their late teens or early twenties, and this family, I was interviewing with, was a single father, who was gone for several days at a time, every week, as a traveling route salesman, and 4 daughters. Elementary-school twins, aged 9, or so, as I recall, a middle-school-aged, 12-year-old, and, a 16-year-old, in high school. There was a concern that a, very young, nanny would be too close to the ages of the children, themselves, to be able to ever be taken seriously as the adult figure in the home.

Much of what this father, hiring me, should have been concerned about was what he was bringing into this situation, himself, though. None of which I had any idea about, at the time that I was interviewing for the job, over the phone. I wouldn't be there very long at all before I started to see what was going on, which was an abdication of his parental responsibilities, to these young girls, who all absolutely adored their dad. This situation was about to engulf me, in a real-life soap opera. This was the one nanny job I could have stayed in, quite happily, for many years, if not for the sordid situation finally making that both, impossible, and unsafe, for me. Before it was all over I would have my life threatened and be subpoenaed to testify in court. Books have been written, about nightmare nannies, but based on what I went through, as a live-in nanny to several families, I would definitely say that the families, hiring the nannies, bring alot of dysfunction and toxicity, to the situation. I would end up returning to dancing, in the nightclubs, in Omaha, after this go-round of New York nanny misadventures, was all said and done, if only to recover from it! I had never thought that, being a nanny, could put me in danger of being killed, like being a dancer had done. Not from Mafia. From my employer!

Back then, these interviews were done using, landline, telephones, and except for the photographs, of the nanny, which were required, by the agency, and provided  to the family hiring her, it was, all, done 'sight unseen'. There was no internet. No Skype, or Zoom. No smart phones. The prospective nanny wasn't given photos of the family. It was all approached as if the nanny had everything to prove, but the family, hiring her, were all, perfectly acceptable people. I did have more than one phone call during the process, with this family, though. The father, whom I would be working for, spoke with me, first, and explained that he and his wife were in a divorce, and that since 'she is crazy' he had full custody of their children and had retained the family residence as well, but that she was allowed to come there for, legally scheduled, visitations, to see the girls. He told me that he wanted to have this close, female, family friend who was extremely concerned about this family's situation, call and speak with me. So then, she also spoke with me by phone and asserted that the mother of these girls was mentally unstable; and, that she was helping Gerry, their father, to find a suitable live-in nanny, because of him having custody, but being gone so much of the time due to his job. Finally, he called me, again, and this time he put each one of his 4 daughters on the phone with me, to be able to weigh in with their own opinions about me. They had previous nannies which had not worked out, so they were trying to get the right one this time. The girls were charming! Not long after, I left Omaha, Nebraska for upstate New York.

Sadly, and, rather shockingly, to me, my initial introduction to Gerry's hospitality, toward me as a newcomer to his home life, only lasted as long as a pizza we had after he picked me up at the airport. As we met, and talked together, from there, to the pizzeria, and the restaurant, to his house, I felt comfortable with him, and welcomed! It is never easy to uproot yourself from everything you know, in your own life, and go somewhere completely new to live and work among people that you have never even met before. Especially when it's in the intimate setting of a private home where everyone knows everyone, except you. Within an hour or so of my arrival, though, when I had only barely introduced myself to the girls, and hadn't even become familiar with the layout of the house, yet, Gerry complained about his having to pick up the trunk with my belongings that I brought with me, for this move that I had just made, halfway across the United States, in order to help his family, as if, I had asked too much, of him. That, wasn't very welcoming. He actually lost his temper, when I wrote an item on the grocery list that I didn't see in the kitchen, so that I could make something that the girls were asking me for, also. I had barely been there an hour, but he actually SHOUTED that I should LOOK FIRST, because it was THERE. It was such a sudden and stinging departure from how he had been, before, on the phone with me, during the interviews, and how congenial and gracious he had seemed, in the pizzeria, that it did more than simply shock me. It SHOOK ME. I wondered what I had gotten myself into, and I was not sure, now, that I was glad that I had. I started to question that decision.

I'd only arrived late the previous day, as a complete stranger, to these people, to live with this family and care for his kids, when Gerry left early the next morning for the start of his workweek. In the phone interviews, that I'd had, with him, he had, significantly, misrepresented, to me, how much, and how long at a time, he would be totally absent, from this home, and, his daughters. He covered a multi-state sales route, for his company. But, after seeing that he was, basically, a full-time-ABSENTEE-father, I couldn't imagine, why any court had agreed to give him total custody of these children! As it turned out, he was NEVER home, during the weekdays, during ANY week that I worked there, for months. He left early, every Monday morning, and never returned, AT ALL, until Friday evening. After supper. He was GONE--- 24/7--- during the ENTIRE workweek. I was being paid $150.00  a week, plus the room and board a live-in nanny receives due to living where we work. That wasn't alot of pay to begin with, but it was almost an obscenely small amount of compensation, for Gerry making me solely responsible for running his entire household, in EVERY way, and taking care of ALL of the needs of his FOUR children for 107 CONSECUTIVE HOURS, week after week after week. That meant that my pay was equivalent to $1.40 an hour! When I would bring it up to Gerry, rightfully asserting that I was wrongly being left on duty, by him, for far too long (and was not what we agreed to in the interview process), as a block of time, he skirted around the issue, only saying that he did not want me using those words around the girls because they took it as me saying 'doody' which to them meant human fecal waste. He was simply trying to silence me, because, he had a great thing going for himself and didn't want me--- one of the VICTIMS of his (hidden) agendas--- spoiling it for him. Since I was otherwise happy with the job I stayed.

As I was seeing, from the very start, that this man had not been straight with me about much of anything he had told me, about this job, however, I did call up the nanny agency that had placed me there, to discuss my concerns with them. They were no help to me, whatsoever. They basically told me that they had placed me, as their product, into this situation and had been paid, for that, by Gerry. He had indicated to them (OF COURSE!), when they asked him how I was doing, that he was VERY PLEASED, with my efforts on behalf of his home and family, which was EXCELLENT work, I was doing, and, a TOTAL BARGAIN, for HIM; and they did not want to have to deal with their CLIENT NOT BEING HAPPY. So, they left me there with no remedy or correction, to my being taken full advantage of, except for me to quit, and finance my own way back home or to somewhere else. So, I had NO SUPPORT, FROM ANYONE, in this situation. I really did like these 4 girls, though! The Middle Child Syndrome* reared its head with Roslyn, the 12-year-old, which made it much more challenging for me dealing with her, than with anyone else. I did continue to use the word "duty", with Gerry, to remind him that this WAS my JOB, after all. He was already taking great advantage of me as my employer, and having been a nanny, before, I had already learned by now that, in these, live-in, nanny situations it's important to prevent the family you work for from forgetting that you, also, need, deserve, and even require, time off to yourself, to do things FOR YOU. Things that you want to do, versus, what you have to do, for a change. At least Gerry returned home every weekend to his daughters, so I had those off.

Wappingers Falls, was a charming, family-oriented, village, in a beautiful area, of upstate New York. It was surrounded by everything, that I personally could want, to explore, and enjoy. From taking the commuter train, into New York City, along the beautiful Hudson River, to going to an art festival in Rhinebeck. This was also the first nanny job that provided me with a car, and even better, it was dedicated solely to my use. I believe it was the old 'classic' that Gerry drove as his first car, back when he was in school, but that was exactly the type of car I had also been given by my parents as my first car when I was in school. So, it didn't bother me at all, that is was old and not 'flashy' in any way. It ran really well and it took me everywhere, that I needed, and wanted, to go, throughout the area. Including to the new Galleria mall, in nearby Poughkeepsie, which was the largest mall there, in Dutchess County. So, I was happy. I found a great church there, and attended social outings, like pool parties, and cookouts, at their homes. I even, met a guy, in that same church, whom I dated, for awhile. It had seemed, to be turning into something serious, between us, but, something in my gut told me that he wasn't really right for me. (It would be another decade or so, before I finally figured out that, honestly, I just really do not like being married, in general; or tied down, to some guy, that ends up, taking me for granted, or, mistreating me. I LIKE BEING SINGLE--- STAYING SINGLE. To this day. I DON'T feel 'deprived' living THIS way; but I did, often, feel deprived, in relationships, as in, short-changed!) I went out dancing one night, on my own, just to let off some steam after meeting so many other peoples' needs, as a nanny, that was sometimes at the expense of meeting my own. It was some 'R & R', for ME. So, I was well-immersed in, and integrated with, this community. It was a great place, to live! Honestly, I could quite happily have lived there forever and never left. I REALLY liked that area, and the life that  I lived, there. Moreso on my days off, than my days on. But, for the most part, it was, a pretty pleasant lifestyle, for me, there. I really fell in love, with New York!

There was alot more to Gerry's long absences than his work ethic, though, which was revealed to me when he finally came home at the end of my first, full, week there. That Friday, as he arrived back home, for the first time, all week, since he had left Monday morning, he got home around mid-afternoon. I dutifully took his luggage, to remove his laundry, from it, so that I could wash that, for him. There was NO--- NO!--- WORK clothing, at all, in the entire suitcase--- as, in, N-O-N-E! There were beach-style shirts with bright, bold, prints and shorts, and such. This man had just gone, right out the front door, not even, a full 24-hours, after I had arrived. A total stranger. Who had come to live in his home and care, directly, for his own, vulnerable, children. And, aside from a couple of, 5-minute, phone calls, he was nowhere to be seen, or heard from, ALL WEEK. So, CLEARLY, he was NOT 'working', based on, his job description, and the laundry, loaded into the washing machine. So, WHERE HAD HE BEEN?!? The girls weren't home from school yet so after starting the washing machine I went upstairs to the main floor of the house and I confronted Gerry. I could not believe, that he had not chosen to be close to home, for my FIRST WEEK WORKING THERE; especially, for his kids' sake, with a complete newcomer, under their roof, who might have even needed his help, with something, while learning the job duties, there. Or, what if I'd had an emergency, of some kind, and had needed to be able to contact him (which, he didn't provide me; only saying he would call home as he was able when out on his sales route)?

I was shocked at what he answered me, when I said to him, "Gerry, none of your laundry was work clothes, at all. So, would you please tell me where you actually were, during my first week working here?" Without looking, at all, uncomfortable, embarrassed, or ashamed, he explained all the dark details so easily, without any hedging or hesitation. He told me, "I was with [that female 'family friend' that he had also had me do a phone interview with for this job]. We went away together! We're in love, and are, actually, having an affair, because we're both still married.  I met her through her husband, who is a friend of mine. He bores her, though, as he never wants to go anywhere, or do anything--- just sit, at home. She, likes to go places, and do things. I really like her style. So we got involved. My kids don't know, though, so don't say anything, to them. All in good time. I want to involve her, and her daughter, in their lives, gradually, because, they love their mother. I want us to end up together, though, at some point." I asked him if his friend had any idea that he was having this affair, with his wife, and Gerry said no, and that his friend didn't appreciate this amazing woman, so, that justified him having the affair, with this man's wife, since he DID appreciate her. I stood there, aghast, at all he poured out to me about this situation while he looked very pleased about it all. Talk about 'dirty laundry'! All I could think about, was how much it could hurt the girls. He was divorcing their mother, whom I hadn't met yet, and already had another woman, waiting in the wings, to become a 'stepmother' to his daughters. He was willing, to break up two families, and hurt everyone else involved, for her.

Despite my having to work alot of hours, for a puny paycheck, I was glad that he wasn't going to be home much, at that point. I hated to keep secrets, from these girls. But, more than that, I dreaded what would happen, when they finally found out what his plans were, for their family to take on a completely different form--- as, he added, this woman, and her daughter, to all of their lives. What if the girls were not okay with all of that? How did their own mother figure into this picture? How was Gerry going to make it work? How would his 4 daughters, whom he was very close to, cope with it? Could they accept it? Or would it destroy them, or the close relationship with their father, whom all these girls completely adored. I was already feeling ill-at-ease, caught in the middle between an employer's directives and the girls that I truly loved, almost like they were my own. When Gerry would tell the girls that his bedroom was locked, all week, while he was gone (primarily because his wife came to the house for her visitations with her daughters and he didn't want her snooping around in there) even though he had given me a key to go in there so that I could clean it, I was left scrambling for an explanation when the extremely observant 16-year-old, Valerie, would ask me, how was it possible that his room looked and smelled so clean and fresh, when they went in there on Friday evenings, to watch TV, and spend time with him, when he came home, for the weekends. I'm not a good liar, because, I don't like lies, to begin with. I think lies always lead to a bad conclusion; whether, that means, a thought, or, a result.

Gerry had called home, briefly, once or twice, the first week, that I worked there, and after talking with each of his 4 daughters he also asked me how it was going. After about the second week, he never bothered, to talk with me, at all, on those phone calls. Only to the girls, relying, solely, on the perspective of these children, to inform him of how things were going at home. That didn't give me a chance to discuss any of my concerns, with him, such as some of Roz's behaviors becoming problematic. I would have preferred, and, at times, even needed, his guidance as her father on the best way for me to deal with those things. When I began telling the girls, to make sure that he didn't hang up, until he and I also spoke, on those infrequent phone calls, the last one to speak with him would end up telling me he said, he had to go, once they had finished talking, and hung up. Perhaps, there is  a compliment for me, in there, somewhere. Meaning that, as I continued working for him, Gerry felt quite secure about the fact that I continued doing an excellent job managing all the responsibilities for this household and family, in his absence, and therefore saw no real need from his point of view for us to converse with one another, about any, of it. He had said, that, since I came to work there, his house had never been cleaner, and, his girls seemed happy with me there. So, he didn't feel that it was necessary to find out whether there were any problems, issues or difficulties that I had along the way, which needed addressing. I felt frustrated at times that he never acknowledged that I may have concerns myself to ask about. He simply never took that into account which caused me to feel both disregarded and disrespected, and even angry, at times, depending on what wasn't discussed, between the two of us, that I think should have been; if only to show his support. So, we did not discuss anything all week, while he was away, and when he finally got home, Friday evenings, he would tell me that he needed to spend some time with his girls, after being gone. I wasn't even married to or romantically involved with this guy. But I still became his frustrated, resentful 'housewife', after awhile.

Gerry basically rarely bothered to communicate with me. At most he did that to a minimum; whether he was away all week, and was calling home, or when he was actually there on the weekends. However, when he came home, on Fridays, and I was on the phone with my boyfriend making plans for that weekend, Gerry would insist that I get off the phone and come with him to go grocery shopping, that he otherwise, did not need me for, or include me in. The one time that my boyfriend, who was from my church there, stopped by the house, with his pet cockatiel with him, in its cage, because he thought the girls would really enjoy seeing the tricks the bird could do, Gerry got upset, about his being there, and told me not to ever allow him in his home, again. It was just as well, I suppose. The girls delighted in the antics of this animal, so my guy had opted to leave the bird behind for awhile as a way to get the girls' minds off the situation, of their parents getting divorced and such. I felt uneasy, about that, though--- knowing, what the cockatiel meant, to him, and being well aware, that Roz would often act out, in ways that were, at times, mischievous, and were, sometimes, simply troublemaking for its own sake. Sure enough, when I went back, to check on the safety of the bird, because, Roz, had lingered nearby, where he had left it, on the screened-in back porch, still out of its cage, she was trying to get it to fly, out the door! I put a stop to it, and had my guy take his pet and leave. Roslyn was the only one, of the girls, I considered to be a 'problem child', and sometimes she would deliberately create trouble that seemed to be aimed specifically at making life difficult or upsetting for me. While chalking it up to, her being, the middle child, stuck between, the older sister, and the younger twins, and, her anger, at the loss, of her mother, in the home, it still made it harder, for me, to ever really feel close to Roz, like I felt with the other 3 girls. Behaviors have consequences, and cause reactions, in others, whether, you are an adult, or a child. Roslyn was beautiful, smart, and talented, and I admired so much, about her. But, she did, frequently, cause me to feel put off, toward her, when she would undermine me, and do whatever she could to make my job, and therefore my life, more difficult. Valerie told me that Roz pulled shenanigans with  a former nanny, too, which was one reason Gerry hired an older nanny, this time.

Valerie, the 16-year-old, and I, had the two bedrooms downstairs, in this middle-class, split-level home. The garage, a laundry room, a half-bath, and a den, were what comprised the rest of the lower floor. When I first arrived, I was very aware of the fact that, this teenager, was only 14 years younger, than I was! So, as she came into my bedroom, to get to know me better, I described how, the two of us, reminded me of the scene in the movie, 'The Sound Of Music', where, 'Maria', the live-in nanny, was talking with the oldest daughter, 'Liesl', in her bedroom, as the girl asserted that she was too old, to need a nanny, and the caregiver responded, with, 'Well, then, you and I can just be good friends'. It felt that way, to me, with Val and I, too. She had an eccentric habit of 'preening' me by standing in back of me when I was seated somewhere and plucking out my first gray hairs that were appearing among my almost-black strands, even though I was only 30 (Roz gave me, a few, of those, gray hairs, too, while I was there, I feel sure!). Birds do this to one another as bonding behavior. I allowed it from Val, because it seemed she was coming from a point of view of doing something caring, toward me. (It could be, fairly well, assumed, that MOST young women DON'T WANT gray hair, so she removed those, from my head, seemingly to be helpful.) All 4 of these girls were personable, smart, amazing, people, and I truly loved them! Even though Roslyn could provoke me into feel angry, toward her, at times, due to her rebelliousness and troublemaking stunts she pulled, I also felt a great deal of deep compassion, for her. One night, after I had scolded her for something earlier in the evening, I went to check on the girls, to see if they were all asleep in their bedrooms on the main level of the house, before I went downstairs, to go to bed. Both twins, were asleep, in their bunkbeds, in their room. Roz, had fallen asleep, in her room, with a book, that she had been reading, slipping from her hand. As I slid it away, from her hand, without waking her, my heart just went out, to her, for, how lonely, she must feel, so often, for so many reasons. She was the hardest to love, but it was only because of her 'bad' behaviors she chose to engage in; and she NEEDED the love. More, than ANYONE, in that family, I believe. I knew, that her, irresponsible, antics merely meant that she was in pain. Pain that she acted out of, but couldn't find a way, at 12 years old, to, really articulate. She actually reminded me alot of me growing up feeling so much pain from the problems between my own parents.

There were more, heartbreaking, layers, to this dysfunctional family drama, that Gerry was instigating, at the expense of everyone; even, in the extended family. As I learned more about those things, along the way, I sometimes felt surprised, shocked, or sad, due to my love and concern for these girls that I cared for, who were being affected by it all in various ways, beginning with the disintegration of the two-parent home, and intact family, they had always had as their foundation before, Gerry, decided, to discredit, and divorce, their mother. He could be cruel, about that, at times. My feeling is that if men in general were more mature, and less jerks, there would be so much less destruction, and suffering. The first time that I saw Gerry behave coldly in a way that directly affected his daughters, was when the girls were to participate in the Confirmation service, at their parish. As  an Italian family, they considered themselves to be of the Catholic faith**, even though they never once attended any church service or Catholic Mass during my time there, except for this one. Gerry dutifully made sure that the girls had their Confirmation. It took place not long after I had arrived to be their nanny. I can't recall, now, how many, of the 4, took part, in this official Church ceremony, and which ones, may have already had their Confirmation. The twins, Geraldine, and Jackie, were the ones this was for, I believe. But, due to the age span, that girls, usually, go through this, it could have been, any, or all, of the 4 girls. I think the reason I don't even remember that, now, is because, although I was present, at the ceremony, it wasn't where my focus was emotionally during this, significant, life event. I was feeling ill at ease, because Gerry had insisted, that I use one of the allotted tickets, the parish issued, to the families involved, because of space limitations; which, was intended, for their mother to attend. In order to prevent that. Because, I had never even met her, at that time, to know what she looked like, I don't know if she managed to be there, anyway, in an overflow gallery, of spectators, or not. She should've been there, up close, front and center, though.

When the Confirmation ceremony was over Gerry drove us to a store to purchase something that he needed, before heading home. He went in alone, leaving the 5 of us sitting in the car. It was a beautiful, warm, day, so, the windows were rolled down. He wasn't gone long but in those few minutes an older woman approached one of the back windows, and began speaking to the girls about the Confirmation and their thoughts, on the experience they had just had. I assumed that this was some kindly parishioner, making lovingly polite conversation. The girls did not tell me who she was or introduce us to one another. They did tell her that I was their new nanny, but the woman didn't introduce herself to me, or really converse with me directly, and I didn't want to intrude on whatever connection she had with the girls. It must have been a couple of MONTHS later when I saw 'Roz' (Roslyn) just standing, somewhere in the house where I had never seen her, or anyone, stand, before, which was in the dining room. We never used it, since Gerry wasn't home for family meals all week, and the girls and I simply ate at the kitchen table. She was just staring out the window at something so I went over and asked her what she was looking at. Her answer, truly, floored me! During my time there the girls RARELY expressed ANY emotions verbally about all that they were going through, with their parents divorce, and the divide it caused, within their family. This brief conversation, between Roz and I, stood out to me, even more, because that was the case. She told me, that she was looking at the house right next door. When I asked her why, she told me that it was because her grandparents lived there!

I was incredulous, at what I was hearing! I just could not BELIEVE, these special, and significant, people in the lives of these 4 girls were living RIGHT NEXT DOOR TO THEM, ALL THIS TIME, and NO ONE had TOLD ME ANYTHING, AT ALL, ABOUT THAT! It turned out, that the older woman, who had, hesitantly, dared to stop by their car, after the Confirmation, had been this grandmother, Rose. I felt sad, for the girls, and angry at Gerry, because, when I asked Roz, why the girls were not visiting, their own grandparents, whom they loved, so deeply, she told me it was because their father had told them not to. They were their mother's parents who were living right next door; apparently, because all these people used to be such close family before Gerry decided to divorce their daughter. Even more bizarre to me, it turned out that the girls' own MOTHER was ALSO there at times and EVEN THEN, they were not ALLOWED by Gerry to GO OVER THERE. I simply could NOT understand it! These little girls were basically being deprived of both their actual parents, and their grandparents, and were, primarily, being raised by a nanny--- ME! It all seemed, not only ridiculous, to me, but, really, wrong. By the time this happened, I had met the girls' mother, and had interacted with her several times during her home visitations, with the girls. While, I am not a trained psychiatrist, she and I had, several, conversations, and I felt, very, comfortable, that she was NOT 'crazy' (THE STANDARD EXCUSE AND DISCLAIMER THAT MEN USE AGAINST WOMEN when THE MEN don't want to bother to do what it takes to have healthy, happy, relationships with these women. These men decide that it is simply easier to discredit the women, than to change themselves, or do the right thing by their marriage, or their family). I heard SO MANY MEN, that I talked to, while dancing, in the nightclubs, say, of THEIR relationships, as THE explanation, for WHY it had not worked out, that "She was just CRAZY!" that I began to recognize it as being what IGNORANT, and SELFISH, MALES, say, to LET THEMSLEVES OFF THE HOOK, in order to AVOID ANY RESPONSIBILITY, for WHAT'S WRONG, in the relationship.

Regardless of the sins of the parents I hated to see the situation being negatively impactful on their 4 daughters, who had done nothing, to cause any of this. They were being denied the comforting presence of their loved ones, too. So, that very evening, that I saw Roslyn staring so longingly out the window, wistfully trying to catch a glimpse of her grandparents, whom she loved so dearly, I broke this rule, of Gerry's, which, I thought, was cold, callous, and cruel, that, he had apparently inflicted on his obedient daughters. I told Roslyn to 'Go outside, through the back door, and play'; and I made it CLEAR, to her, what I MEANT, by that. I told her, to simply tell me, whenever she wanted, or needed, to, that she was 'going outside, to play', and JUST LEAVE IT AT THAT. It was something that, these girls didn't do, in actuality, while I was there; making it our 'code word', for her slipping away to be with her grandparents next door for awhile. So, she slipped out the back door, and I watched from that dining room window, until she got to their door, before I gave her privacy, and space, for that tender moment. If Gerry found out about it, and got mad at me, or fired me, for that, then SO BE IT. He was content to be an absentee father, for the most part, and to trust ME to know how to, best, care for his home and family which was a big responsibility I shouldered all by myself the majority of the time that I was there. I was WEARY of his HATEFUL rules, and his SELFISHNESS; with him, having the time of his life, in his, adulterous, love affair, while, depriving, his own children, of experiencing affectionate relationships, with their family members, that they so needed; especially now. I saw NO REASON for the girls to HAVE TO BE DEPRIVED of that healing, helpful, anchor, in THEIR lives. Especially since their mother only saw them briefly, for scheduled visitations, and their father was almost never home. Otherwise all they had was me as the nanny. 

I was around whenever their mother came for her visitations with the girls at the house. In getting to know her, I viewed her as a somewhat silly, but goodhearted person, who was 'being the better person'--- by far, in comparison, to Gerry--- of the two of them in this divorce. She, always, had a smile on her face! She wasn't crying, carrying on, acting enraged, or doing anything destructive. She just loved her girls, and, she loved spending those precious hours with them. There came a point, that she poured out her heart to me, about how helpless, she felt, that she had been so discredited by Gerry in the legal proceedings, and her concern about the impact of it all on the children. I shared her observations and concerns about that. So, I said to her what should have been obvious, to her own attorney, or to her; that, if I, were in her shoes, with, so much, at stake, regarding my children, that I would most likely subpoena someone who would have to testify under oath about what was ACTUALLY GOING ON in this family. Someone, who would KNOW, FIRST HAND. The NANNY. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, as the light bulb went on in her head about something that she had not considered before, which could greatly help her case. Not long after, I was served with a summons to appear, for  a court hearing, about the custody of the children, and all matters, related to the family situation. Also, Valerie came to me, one evening, and said that her mother wanted to stay the night with her, one weeknight, in her room, and I replied that, since she closed her door, at night, at bedtime, I HAD NO IDEA, what went on, in HER room, nor, did I 'officially' WANT to KNOW; and I left it, at that, for the most part. After all, I had also been allowing and frankly even encouraging, Roz, to 'go play outside', so that she could go next door, to see her grandparents, who loved these girls so deeply and LITERALLY lived RIGHT NEXT DOOR. That child NEEDED those people, IN her life! ESPECIALLY, during this family upheaval. So I allowed it.

The girls' mother had made some mistakes, though, which contributed greatly to the demise of her marriage. She'd always adored, 'dolling up' her daughters, but they were growing up, now, to the point that they didn't really need or want that being done to them, so much, anymore. So, she began collecting actual dolls; an outlet, which gave her a different place to channel this doting desire. Captivating her, to the point that it became an, unhealthy, obsession, the family home began to be overrun, with these dolls. Sitting all around, everywhere; was how this was explained, to me. It began to concern Gerry, as it should have, at that point. But, it had also caused him to feel that, the large majority of, his wife's attention, and affection, was with these inanimate objects. The Male Ego, never enjoys taking a back seat to someone, or something, else, that is distracting, and diverting, their woman's affections, away, from them. Men begin to feel, that they aren't getting the attention, that they should, be getting, in that relationship. So, not to excuse it, but if another woman enters the picture, and behaves toward this man like he  is the center of her universe, that he is desirable and so forth, a man's affections can become alienated, from the neglectful wife, and bonded, to the woman, that makes him feel important and wanted. Gerry's wife also made the situation even more distasteful to him, when she, being home all day as a homemaker, allowed some strangers--- who were Jehovah's Witnesses--- which, many, consider to be  a cult, to get their foot in the door. Literally; as she invited them into their home, when they knocked on the door, in order to gain access, to prosthelytize. She did this on several occasions. Once you allow them access to you or your home, they are extremely encouraged, by that, and become, very difficult, to ever stop, from coming around, after that. So, these things made her come across as a very silly, gullible, woman. Especially to Gerry. Which made it easy, for him, to simply write her off, as being "crazy"; especially when his own affections transferred from this mother of his 4 amazing, and beautiful, children, to the wife of one of his friends.

Gerry would write a check, to pay me with, at the end of every week. One week, he handed me my paycheck, but, he told me that it would not do me any good if  trying to cash it then, because it wasn't good for the funds. I was not really sure what he meant, at first, as I could not imagine him having me work, these really long hours, with so much responsibility for so many things, and then stiff me out of my pay, after all that! Sure enough though, I took it to the bank and they told me they could not cover it, from his account. I was upset, and told him that he'd better make good, on the money, because I certainly earned it--- and then some (being underpaid, for all my services as his nanny, as I was, because I did all the housework, and all the child care, and anything and everything else that needed  to get done for his home and family). He did make it right that time but later on, when I left the job, he never gave me my final paycheck, getting a week's worth  of work, out of me, for free. Gerry was a jerk, in my view. Sadly, that means, he was 'a typical man'; in my opinion, of his gender. I think the week he didn't have the funds to pay me in his account was the same week that he came home early telling me enthusiastically that someone talked him into ordering several custom made shirts, which he felt would make him look more affluent and sophisticated. He stood in the kitchen, modeling one for me, after he had first come home and run them through the washing machine in HOT water. He said that someone had advised him to do that so they would fit him even better. These were cotton. So, the sleeve length also shrank. He kept asking me, if that was noticeable, as if to somehow undo the damage to them, by being told what he wanted to hear. But, now, the sleeves were too short, and too tight at the cuffs, so it didn't look good on him, at all. There he stood, in the kitchen, showing me these new clothes, he had spent all this money on, that he probably couldn't afford, to begin with, and he kept tugging on the cuffs, trying to make the sleeves look long enough again. I'm not sure what he ever did with all those shirts. Gerry was a fairly small man.  In height, build, and character. But, now, his shrunken shirts were even smaller!

As he started to bring his girlfriend, his friend's wife, as he himself had described it, to me, into the family picture, more and more, I did all I could, to stay out, of that, without being rude to her when she and her daughter--- which was close to Roz's age--- were visiting. They even came for sleepovers, at times, with Gerry's girlfriend 'chastely' sleeping somewhere other than with him, during those visits. At least until the girls were asleep. When Gerry asked me if I wanted to go along on a family road trip when he was, also, including this woman, and her daughter, such as, to Hersheypark, in Pennsylvania, I declined. I spent all week, 24/7, with the girls, but on the weekends off, I had developed my own social life, outside of the family, while I was living there. I also had no desire to end up responsible for the 4 girls PLUS this woman's daughter, knowing that, Gerry would, surely, try to disappear, for awhile, to, get more 'alone time' with this woman, he was involved with. I preferred to stay home, and either, sunbathe, on the back deck, or go out somewhere, and live, my own, life, a couple of days, each week. Because I knew what was going on, from the first week there, when I confronted Gerry about his 'dirty laundry', after he had disappeared, leaving me to jump right in, to my new job, and figure things out on my own, I tried my best to stay out of the situation. It was not about me, it did not directly involve me, and I did not want to become complicit in enabling it, because I was well aware how devastating it could be, to the girls, if and when they finally figured out what was going on with their father and this woman, who was not their mother, and, was still some other man's wife. One other thing, that I really resented, about this situation, was that, when, this woman would visit Wappingers Falls (because she lived in Baltimore, Maryland at the time with her husband and daughter, as I recall), she and Gerry would dump her daughter off on me as well, even on the weekend when Gerry was home and was supposed to be caring for his own kids during that time, so that I could have  a break from that responsibility. It was, after all, his family, and his responsibility.

The woman's daughter was a very pale-skinned, red headed, delicate flower, who apparently had deadly serious allergies to 99% of the American diet due to some ingredient(s), being present, in these foods. I was incredulous, when I first found out about this--- which was the first time that Gerry and his girlfriend announced, on a weekend, that, they were going out, alone, somewhere, for awhile, and that Sarah would remain at the house, with his 4 girls. So, (1) they ADDED a child, to the 4, and left me in charge, of all 5, and (2) they gave me NO 'heads up', about this girl's, pervasively, problematic, health condition, and, (3) her mother, did not provide any special meals, for her, when they came, while knowing, full well, that this would present a huge challenge to my FEEDING THIS CHILD when MEALTIME arrived. As we stood, in the kitchen, with hunger approaching, while the girl read the full ingredient list, on food after food, that was in the house, to offer her, and she rejected each one, in turn, as something she was unable to eat, I finally said, with a tinge of frustration in my voice, that, since SHE lived with this condition of hers SHE was much more well-versed in what she COULD and COULDN'T eat; so, therefore, I would 'leave her to it', to figure out, if ANYTHING, that was available, for consumption, in this house, would be suitable for her. I personally just did not want to, stand there, anymore, after that first half hour, that I had, while another complete ingredients list was read off, by her, from another package of food; only for her to reject it as inedible. I was mad, at Gerry, and this girl's mother, for just dumping this 'problem' onto me, and going out; but, Gerry's girls, remained, with her, during the rest, of that, long, and daunting, process, since she was of an age for them to befriend one another. They let me know, about an hour later, that she had, finally, found something, that she could eat. Meanwhile, Gerry, and the girl's own mother, had escaped for their date; and I was never paid extra for additional childcare, or for overtime. It may SOUND like I am NOT a CARING person. I am a VERY nurturing caregiver. But, I am also ONE person, who has needs of MY OWN; and I INTENSELY DISLIKE being taken advantage of, or disrespected, BY ANYONE.

Sometimes, it was really hard not to tell the girls--- or, at least, Valerie, who was older than the other 3, what was really going on with all this. I did know after all. Especially, when, Val--- who was extremely observant, and aware, as a person--- would spot questionable things, herself, and seek a 'reality check' from me about what she saw--- or thought, that she saw (which was, unfortunately, accurate). I never did actually tell any of the girls any of it myself, though, as I knew it would hurt and confuse them, even more than they already were, and I loved them too much, to do that, to them. These kids were the ones that I could have continued being a nanny to, for years! They were my favorite family, that I was a nanny for (excluding Gerry, who was JUST ANOTHER JERK, in my book). After one of those road trips they all went on one weekend, Valerie came to my room to talk to me, privately, not long afterward. I was shocked and saddened to hear what she was describing to me. She said that, after a very full and tiring day at an amusement park with her dad, his female 'family friend', and her 3 sisters, they had all been headed back to Wappingers Falls in the car, after dark. Valerie said that all of her younger sisters had all fallen asleep as they headed home. But, trusting her own gut that something about this female 'friend' of her dad's didn't add up, she said that she PRETENDED, to ALSO be asleep, but she was wide awake, watching the two of them, from where she sat, in the back seat, just behind, her father. Then, she described how she had been wearing dark sunglasses, all day, and, that, she had kept them on her face, during the drive home. So, even though, Gerry could have seen her, in the rearview mirror, he would have easily thought that she was asleep, just like all the other, younger, children were. She told me about her dad, checking behind them, to make sure the children were all sleeping, because, the woman began to touch him, affectionately. Then, she suddenly disappeared from view, as if she were laying down with her head on Gerry's lap. Valerie continued, telling me that, she couldn't see, what was happening, down there, but, her dad began making some, really strange, faces, that she had not seen him do, before, as his daughter, and that, when the woman eventually sat upright, again, on the car seat, that, she was, wiping her mouth, with her hand. My heart, just sank. It was a pretty sure bet that, this child, had probably just seen her father getting a blow job. I still just couldn't bring myself to confirm the truth about their father's relationship with this woman. I couldn't inflict any of that hurt on Val, myself, if I could help it. It was, bad enough, that some of her own innocence was lost, now.

I don't know which of all these things that I have shared in this post, might have been the reason that, late one evening, after the children were all already in bed, Gerry threatened to KILL me, in a very REAL threat that he made directly toward me. I have no idea, whether it was for some action on my part that he had come to know about and was upset at me for, such as allowing Roslyn to sneak over to her grandparents' house, to spend some time with those loved ones, that, she so needed in her life. After all, by then, he could have found out about any, or all, of these things, going on, while, he was away, all week long, every single week; not only working but using that opportunity to be alone with his married girlfriend on  a regular basis, as they, both, escaped, family commitments, for this relationship between them. All I know is that one night after the girls had gone to bed, Gerry called me on the phone, and said to me, with alot of anger in his voice that, if he were HOME, right now, he would TAKE A GUN AND SHOOT ME. I could tell by the fury in his voice, at me, that HE MEANT IT, and I wasn't sure where he ACTUALLY WAS, at that moment--- how CLOSE to home, he MIGHT BE! So, I HUNG UP (this landline telephone) as SOON as he THREATENED ME and I called the Wappingers Falls POLICE, explaining that MY LIFE WAS IN DANGER. Then, I started trying, to contact Gerry's parents, who lived in the area, so that SOMEONE--- some ADULT, would BE IN THE HOUSE, with the children, at least, even though Valerie was 16. Gerry kept calling back again, and again, though, after I first hung up on him, to try to talk to me more, which I had NO intention of doing at that point. So, while,  I was trying to find and call his parents' number at about 9 or 10 o'clock at night, now, the phone would ring again, and as soon as I heard Gerry's voice I hung up on him, again. I was done with this jerk-boss of mine! Finally, I got a call through to his parents, whom I had met only once before, when I was bit on the eye by a spider, as I slept in my room, there. It swelled up, so much, that I couldn't see to drive, safely, and I needed to go to a doctor to get treated for the venomous bite. So, since the girls were at school, I called them--- Gerry's EMERGENCY CONTACT number that he had given me, and they came, and met me, and drove me to the doctor, that day. I could not call Gerry's wife's parents, who lived right next door, to come over, to be with these kids, as I fled in fear for my life, because I had no idea if he would threaten to hurt them too. I had never seen them visit his home. 

After I finally reached them, and they were on their way to the house then, I left the landline off the hook so that Gerry could not keep calling because the ringing could have awakened the children and I still had to pack up all my things and get out, FAST. I sounded breathless and frantic, as I had NO IDEA HOW CLOSE Gerry was, to coming HOME, and he had just CLEARLY STATED TO ME, that, IF he were there, he would SHOOT ME with a gun! That goes WELL BEYOND saying that you are just UPSET with someone, for something. It was a comment that I took VERY SERIOUSLY! I had only told his parents I was quitting RIGHT NOW, and that they needed to COME TO THE HOUSE of their SON and stay with HIS kids, until he got home, or someone else came there, to look after these children. So, they arrived soon after my call and by then I had already begun getting all my belongings out of the house, through the front door, and dumping them on the lawn of his wife's parent's house, next door. I knocked and asked them if I could stay there, telling them, hurriedly, what was going on, and they said I could. Except for this woman stopping by the car after the Confirmation ceremony when I had no idea who she was I had never met these grandparents of the girls. They said it was the answer to a prayer though; that the lid was being blown off what Gerry was getting away with. That THEY had been PRAYING, HARD, for GOD to DO SOMETHING, about it. That, they had BEEN LOSING HOPE, before I knocked on the door, late that night.

I was rushing, making several trips between these two houses, to get myself and my personal belongings out of Gerry's house, while his parents kept trying to get me to stand still, and explain to them, in detail, what had happened, but I didn't. They seemed to be fairly clueless, about what was going on with their son, and I wasn't about to lose my life, at this point, standing there trying to bring them up to speed. Valerie, hearing, the commotion, of me going in and out the front door, which was right above her bedroom window, came upstairs, to the livingroom, to see what was going on. I let her know I LOVED them and was LEAVING, and that  I couldn't really explain it all right then. I wasn't sure that I EVER should anyway, as I tried VERY hard to NEVER say ANYTHING disparaging, about EITHER of their parents, because . . . it was THEIR PARENTS . . . and, I KNEW how DEEPLY these  girls LOVED BOTH OF THOSE PEOPLE. So I ended up NEVER GOING INTO DETAIL with ANY of these girls, about what happened; leaving the door open for Gerry to tell them whatever truth, or lie, he would decide to say about the situation, when he got home. It did seem, that he had chosen to turn the girls against me, based on their behaviors, in the following days. The day after, I left, I saw Valerie, next door, at their house, sitting outside on the grass, with her arms over her face, as  if she were crying, or in complete despair. Roslyn came over to her grandparents' house--- where I was, now, staying--- THIS TIME, with Gerry's AWARENESS, and BLESSING, in an apparent attempt to find out, what was going on, over there, in order to report back, to her father. She brought the message, from him, that her grandmother, told me, that, I could COME OVER, TO HIS HOUSE, to PICK UP, my final paycheck, if I wanted it. There was, NO WAY, I would EVER, set foot, on HIS PROPERTY, ever again, in my life! He could shoot me, as he had threatened to do and claim, I was trespassing, or, that, I had come, uninvited and/or aggressively, toward his home, or family, and that he had killed me. I KNEW, that if he REALLY wanted to PAY ME for MY WORK, that last week, that he could EASILY have SENT THE PAYCHECK over, with Roslyn, when he sent her to their house--- NOW; after PREVENTING her, from visiting, here, before--- without, REQUIRING ME to COME AND GET IT. He had FORBIDDEN the girls to come over to this house before I left and came to stay here. It disgusted me that he hadn't cared that his kids needed their grandparents all along but that NOW he SENT them over to this house--- to SPY for him and REPORT BACK to him about me--- so they came over often, now.

I missed the girls, terribly, and loved them, deeply. But, because Gerry was doing that, and I had NOTHING GOOD TO SAY about HIM, I chose to stay downstairs, in my room, whenever the girls would come over, which had begun to be often while I was there. That was something good that had come of all this--- they got to see their grandparents again, now. I had never lied to the girls or spoken badly about their father to them. I had not told any of the girls, that this female 'family friend' was Gerry's GIRLFRIEND and ALSO HIS FRIEND'S WIFE. NONE OF THAT. The girls adored their dad, and for their sake I needed to try to keep it that way. I doubted that he had told them I left because HE threatened to KILL me either, and I didn't want to have to answer that question. Which, they SURELY would have asked me. I didn't want to make them feel I was rejecting them, when I avoided them, at all costs, now. And I knew that, especially without them hearing my side, that Gerry had likely covered over his own bad behaviors, by discrediting ME, to the girls, in some way. But, I wasn't willing to lessen their father in their eyes, even by telling them the truth, about him. So, I didn't ever come out, of the room, I was staying in temporarily, at their grandparents' house, to talk with them, after I left Gerry's house, the night Gerry threatened me. I have no idea what they were told, or led to believe, or decided to believe, about any of us--- the adults in these kids' lives.

I continued, to stay, with these good and Godly grandparents, of the girls, while I waited, for the upcoming court date, which I was subpoenaed to testify at. When the day came, I was placed under oath, and I described the effects I had seen all the parental absence having on these 4 children. I wanted to explain more about the situation because I felt that the court and those in the legal system assigned to the case that made the decisions about the girls well-being should know more about what was actually going on inside that home. The attorney on Gerry's side was apparently concerned, that I just might do that, which could compromise his client. So he sidelined the whole thing, by taking the hearing totally off track, for what it was SUPPOSED to be ABOUT, which did NOT serve these children that we were all there, regarding. He began attacking me, to try to discredit me. I wasn't at all used to testifying in court. I had only been inside courtrooms briefly, to get divorced, prior to this day. I had a tissue in my hands, which were sweaty due to nervousness, as I sat on the witness stand to the left of the judge. I kept looking down at my lap, to try, to shut it all out, to some extent, as an attempt to regain both my composure and clarity because this situation was unnerving me. Gerry's attorney therefore tried to accuse me of looking at pre-written answers, either in my hand or in my lap, that someone must have provided me to coach me, which was not true, at all. I told him that I was holding a TISSUE, and that I could NOT possibly KNOW, which question, he would ASK of me, WHEN, in order to FIND an ANSWER to it; especially, if the answers were all on some small piece of paper or on this TISSUE in my hand! It was ridiculous, desperate-seeming, discrediting, of me, on his part, and it was not a pretty experience to go through with my former boss drilling holes in me with his eyes, and his wife sitting there, with so much at stake; whose parents I was staying with, then. Especially since, I had to honestly answer that, at times, BOTH THESE PEOPLE had made their children's lives more difficult, during this divorce. I was under oath, after all, and I was trying my best to tell the truth as accurately, and objectively, as I could, in answering questions.

There was so much more information that I knew, as the former live-in nanny for this family, that I had wanted to tell the court, as an advocate for the 4 girls, and their welfare. But I was sitting on the witness stand, and limited to answering the questions, that were asked, so I wasn't able to control the direction, or therefore, the narrative, to be able to say too much of what NEEDED to be said, by ME, that day. So, sadly, ALOT of that NEVER got said. Gerry's attorney pretty much shut it down, as far as me having the opportunity to share some things, about his client, that SHOULD HAVE COME OUT as being EXTREMELY RELEVANT in this case, when he suddenly introduced a photo of me with my own son, Jay, from when he was a toddler and still in my custody as his mother, and began questioning MY FITNESS AS A MOTHER; with ME, having to NOW explain to THIS judge in THIS courtroom, what had happened, in MY marriage, with MY divorce, and how, I had transferred custody of MY, very-well-cared-for, SON, to HIS OWN FATHER, and to a wonderful STEPMOTHER so that HE could have a STABLE, LOVING, TWO-PARENT home. The hearing, about, THIS family's situation, got so off-course, with all that, and sadly, STAYED THAT WAY. So, I don't know if I was REALLY ANY HELP, with THAT, by the time it was all said and done. If I weren't, I knew that things would likely NOT be IMPROVING for the 4 girls in the middle of all this. I felt extremely sad about that. 

I NEVER FORGOT OR STOPPED LOVING those girls. I did try--- once--- to contact Valerie, directly, on Facebook, many years later; but, she never responded. I was just a very small chapter in their, overall, life story, though, I am sure. I did some research, about the family, online, this week, to prepare for writing this blog post, and from what I saw, Gerry stayed with the woman, but, didn't marry her. I don't know, what happened, to HER husband, in all this, or whether her daughter EVER outgrew all those FOOD ALLERGIES to be ABLE to EAT enough to SURVIVE in this world. A website that I saw referred to Gerry's girlfriend only as his "companion". I had always assumed that he would finally either marry, or eventually, split with, her, since SHE HAD A HUSBAND, whom SHE WAS STILL WITH, during their affair. A man, whom, Gerry had told me, was even a friend of his! Apparently, their love was real, though, and endured. It seems that the girls' mother had remarried, at some point. She was still smiling, in pictures I saw of her, online; still not looking bitter or miserable at all. I had always thought that she was more attractive than Gerry's girlfriend was, but love is blind, as they say, and the heart wants who the heart wants, for whatever, crazy, or complicated, reasons. Valerie, is very happily married and living a wonderful life; so SHE TRIUMPHED! GOOD FOR HER! Roslyn married, which I hope went well, as she faced the most challenges, of the girls, I think. Geraldine, also married. I was unable to tell whether or not her twin sister, Jacqueline, had ever married, by what research I was able to accomplish before I wrote this post. I could have continued doing more research I suppose, and likely found the answer, to that; but, it was painful, for me to 'go back, in time', among these people, again, and 'relive', that chapter, of MY life, in order to blog about it.

* NOTE: There is some debate as to whether Middle Child Syndrome is actually a real thing, but due to my experience with the attention-seeking, competitiveness, and mischief-making of my younger sister, who was a middle child, and being the caregiver for this very trying adolescent, while in this nanny job, I do believe that there is definitely enough there, to assert that this exists, and has implications in the family dynamic. Here is an article, which describes Middle Child Syndrome, in some detail. https://parenting.firstcry.com/articles/middle-child-syndrome-signs-and-tips-to-prevent-it/ 

** "Italy's unofficial religion is Roman Catholic. While it is not on paper, Roman Catholicism still plays a major role in Italian culture.  According to the book the World Trade Press  wrote about  Italy's society and culture, it mentions that 90 percent of Italians are Roman Catholic."   https://www.arcgis.com/apps/Cascade/index.html?appid=664ee086f9624c6abb9885c0d8d44d20 

Wednesday, December 23, 2020

The Boy From Brooklyn That I Married . . .

The boy from Brooklyn that I married was a club customer. There are reasons why I refer to him as a boy. We met in a bar, that I worked in, at the time, as a dancer. During my years working in these nightclubs I, occasionally, started to feel burned out, by the bullshit involved in this business. If it became too much for me to deal with, in one nightclub, for whatever reason, I would go work in a different one, for a while. Another way, that I dealt with that, was by leaving Omaha altogether and going somewhere completely new, to be a live-in nanny. I always chose to do that job in some other state, just for a change of scenery, and, some interesting travel opportunities. The third way I dealt with my needing a break from the job, was to accept one of the many marriage offers, that, for whatever reason, I have always had more than my fair share of, in my life, and leave the bar business behind me, with the hope--- however faint, that was--- that the (at least, legally,) committed relationship would gain some traction, and actually develop into something, really worthwhile, for a change. By this point, in my life, my experience with both, men, and, marriage, had caused me to set the bar fairly low, as far as my expectations regarding either one, so I was never all that optimistic about it, just based on the facts, as they were, going into these marriages of mine. It's sad, to say, but true.

I was working at the Backdoor Lounge, again, at this point in time, after recently returning to Omaha from being a live-in nanny in Bridgeport, Connecticut, to two little girls who were not yet school age. Their stressed-out single mother made it very uncomfortable, for me. She also required me to cook Jewish meals, which I was not at all familiar with. Cooking had not been part of my nanny job in Miami for the Jewish family there. This was my second nanny job as well as my second time working for a Jewish family. That did not have anything to do with why this job didn't work out though. It was just too tense, there, all the time. She was in the middle of renovating her house. When I arrived there wasn't even a working bathtub. I had to wash up at the sink the best I could, for several days. I was on my period, so it was distressing, to not be able to clean my body really well. She finally drove us all over to her wealthy parents' condo, in Southport, to use their luxurious bathroom. As the water cascaded down over my body, when it was my turn to bathe, I started sobbing, in the shower, just from all the pent up stress, I felt, from the entire situation. The younger of the two girls I cared for was still in diapers. Her mother would change her diaper, in a rush, to get out the door, with the girls, on my day off, and I would find the dirty diaper, just left sitting, smelly, on the upholstered couch, that I had planned to try to sit, and relax, on. Being a very clean, and conscientious, person, this habit of hers, literally, did not sit well with me. There was no internet, back then. Young women were hired as nannies by answering ads, placed in newspapers, by the agencies. Then, they mailed out paperwork to fill out, and the rest was all done over the phone. I was placed into these, domestic caregiver, positions through phone interviews, sight unseen, and there is just no way to gauge relationship chemistry between the employer and I that way. The closest thing I had to having any 'fun', there, was my taking a CPR refresher class, on my own initiative; and the woman that I worked for drove me to New Haven, to see Yale University, from inside the car, for 5 minutes, one day. That was it, except for us going to the beach in Southport once, with her parents.

It was always nice to know that when I left town on these capricious adventures I could easily get another dancer gig, as soon, as I returned, if the nanny job didn't turn out as well as I hoped that it would. Usually, with a simple phone call, to one of these nightclubs, telling the manager I was back in town, and wanted to dance there again. Either that way, or showing up, I always got hired on the spot. When  I got back, to Omaha, this time, I wanted to live in a newly remodeled apartment building, which was about a half-mile from the Backdoor; so I chose it to work in, then. Because I had just started working again, the club manager, Dick McGinnis, called up the landlord of that apartment building I wanted to live in, and paid my deposit and rent for the first month so I could move in! Then, he just deducted it from my paychecks. He intervened this way, in my living situation, because I was staying temporarily with a male employee, of the Smoke Pit Restaurant, in which the Backdoor Lounge was also located; in one of two apartments that were in the building. The owners, of all of it, Joe, and his wife, Kim, lived in the other one for awhile until they moved into a large house when they started a family. I had told Bill, whom I was staying with, that I would NOT have sex with him, when he had offered for me to stay there until I saved the money to move into that apartment that I wanted; but, of course, every single night he kept trying to get me to, so it was not going very well at all, with my staying with him, for even that short time.

>Sigh!< There is that saying, "Be careful what you wish for." The apartment that  I wanted, and got, was nice! THAT worked out well, for me. But, as a dancer who had to put up with so many men that I sat with, in the nightclubs, propositioning me for sex, in one way or another, night after night, I often longed to meet a guy who DIDN'T do that, to me, for a change. As it turned out, Tom, who became my third husband, was that guy. I'm really not sure why he was like that, but I could barely ever get him interested in anything sexual, with me! Believe it or not, Tom and I only had (very fast and poor quality) sex a handful of times, over the entire course of our relationship; and yet, I married him--- not just once, but--- TWICE!  I almost chuckle to myself, about the irony of that, as I think back on it, now. My life has certainly not been normal in alot of ways. What are the odds that I would meet a guy in a meat market* like a Go Go bar who was basically uninterested in being sexual--- at least with me. I have no idea how he was with anyone else. He was ALL BOY. There was NO manhood in him. He'd had a traumatic childhood too, though, that seemed to stop his emotional development, at around the age of 11. He showed passion, but, only toward his comic book collection, and video games. Because of that, and due to other things, as well, I had much more of a maternal relationship with him although it wasn't what I wanted or needed with a husband. In a way, it worked, for me, though; only in the sense that, I felt fulfilled, being a caregiver to someone who needed me. Tom didn't often act like it, but he, clearly, needed me. None, of my needs, were ever really met in this relationship, though, making it unsustainable. He acted like a rebellious, pre-teen, boy, toward me. So, I was in a thankless position, with him, relationally. Tom took. But, he didn't give.

Women are built to need heroes. Our very soul requires them for its nourishment. Not only did Tom NOT be that for me, when HE came into my life, virtually no one before him had either. It was just more of what I almost always got from the men in my life. I was destined to be disappointed, especially, romantically, by believing --- or at least hoping--- that they would be My Hero; because they weren't. It was just more of the same--- males, I allowed into my life, being TAKERS, and USERS. I wanted to, both, love, and be loved. Since that is true, there are, obviously, very compelling reasons why, after my experiences, with men in my life, I've chosen to remain, not just single, but celibate, and romantically uninvolved, for more than 3 decades now. I certainly have no desire to ever be married again. My assessment, of men, is that (1) they are far more trouble than they're worth and (2) they take alot more than they give in a relationship, which is very draining, to me. I end up broken hearted, used up, worn out, and with nothing at all to show for my trouble but loss and heartbreak. I feel like I'm consumed by them, as if I'm nothing more than an expendable commodity, and tossed aside once they've emptied me of my energy and efforts, that I invested toward them in my attempt to have a mutually satisfying relationship. I cannot think of one single time, that I came out, of these relationships, better off, in any way; except, that I was rid of the man involved. It was still surprising, to me, exactly how thoughtless, Tom was, toward me, though.

When I walked up to Tom, in the Backdoor Lounge, to ask if I could join him at his table, I was simply doing my job--- trying to make my required drink quota for my shift, while offering my conversational company to a club customer. He was, just a guy in the bar, who didn't stand out to me, in any way. He seemed shy, though, or at least, awkward. I do not recall what we even talked about. This was not 'love at first sight', by any means! Tom was a 50/50 cross, between his father, who was an Irishman, and his mother, who was of some Latin/Hispanic background, so, he had the long torso, and short legs, of his father, but, his coloring, was from his mother, giving him, black hair, brown eyes, and a light-brown skin tone. He had the accent of a boy from Brooklyn, New York. But, he also sounded almost like he lisped, just a bit, or had some kind of a 'baby voice'. He'd come in there to see some, specific, dancer, as I recall, that either, no longer worked there, or, was otherwise occupied, with another customer, although, I had never noticed him, in there, before, myself. I have to admit that what got my attention was that he was in the Air Force. I had actually loved being in the military, and felt that I was robbed of that lifestyle, due to the wrongful sexual assertions of a, married, Air Force officer, who happened to be my commander, at the time. So, I was drawn to those who were still privileged to serve. That made Tom much more interesting, to me, than he would have been, otherwise. He was a sergeant. His specialized training was as a weather forecaster.

He came across as a really nice guy. Probably, because, he never once came on to me sexually. It would never have occurred to me that this wasn't simply him being gentlemanly, toward me, as much as it was, the beginning, of the signs, of, either, his sexual dysfunction, or his disinterest, in me, in that way, or, both. I don't think he was gay, although I'm really not sure. As things unfolded it became abundantly clear that he had some real misogynistic tendencies toward women other than his mother and little sister. With them he was always extremely loving, protective and loyal. All the things that I needed him to be with me, as well, that he never was. I recall he was raised Catholic, and he seemed to have very black-and-white beliefs, about females, that divided, my gender, into madonnas or whores. It seemed that there was no in-between, in his mind. Looking back over any or all of my romantic relationships with men, I see clearly in hindsight that Red Flags abounded to warn me away from the relationship with them. I still had that toxic poison, in me, from the Disney-movies-upbringing, though, that, clouded the clarity, of my vision, and thoughts, at the time, with the muddled message, from those fantasies, that 'Love would conquer all', and that by giving my love to someone, I would be guaranteed a 'Happily Ever After!' outcome. At least, at some point, along the way . . . ? After two previous marriages--- and divorces--- already behind me surely it must be my turn, I told myself. My lifestyle, as a dancer, offered me everything, but love. Love still eluded me. Guys constantly told me they wanted me. Sexually. I wanted love! 

I did not date Tom very long. I felt like he was a nice enough guy, and that I could build something good with him. As I said, my expectations were fairly low, by this point in my life, both for men, and for marriage. Tom had not approached me in a sexual way, prior to marriage. I was not used to that, from a guy, but at the time, I thought it must be due to his convictions. I felt respected by him. It wouldn't be long before I found out how little he actually did respect me. Somewhere down in my subconscious, though, I was either registering some of those Red Flags, that I somehow sensed about him, or else, something in me was whispering to my soul, "You shouldn't settle. You deserve better than just making do** with a marriage." My life experiences had all converged to convince me otherwise, however. So, the wedding took place, even though, I almost did not go through with it. Tom was to meet me at my apartment, and then, go over to the courthouse, with me, for our wedding before a judge. Nothing fancy or even romantic, at all, really. He ran late though. Late enough, that I started thinking he was a No Show, which caused me to reassess why I would even want to go ahead, with this, anyway, if he did show up. There were no cell phones back then, so we couldn't just call one another. He brought a young couple he was friends with, from the Baptist church he attended near the military base, to be our witnesses. By the time they finally arrived, I had seriously Cold Feet, and, after getting as far as the courthouse, I retreated, into a Ladies Restroom, there, in a panic, hyperventilating slightly and really feeling like  I did not want to go through with it! I had already quit my dancer job for this, but I could easily go back to it, I told myself, as I stood there looking in the mirror, at the fear on my face. The young woman of the couple came in there after me, and talked me into it. I should have just left. I didn't even know her. I never even saw her again, after that day. My upbringing had taught me not to have a voice of my own, though. Not to stand up for myself; for what I needed. So, I always second-guessed myself, especially in times of uncertainty and pressure. So Tom and I got married. There were no Wedding Bells, and no firecrackers, romantically speaking. 

There wasn't a honeymoon, meaning that we didn't go anywhere, nor did we start having sex. I had never had to work hard to make a man want me. Men were just men. If anything, they wanted all the sex they could get! Not Tom. A clock was by the bed which had a second hand, and it was in my line of sight, when we were in bed. The few times that I finally coaxed Tom into having sex with me I saw that it never lasted more than about a minute, at the most. I sighed, to myself, that, the "Minute Waltz"*** could be our 'lovemaking' Theme Song. I didn't nag him, about it, though, even though I did not understand it, and it felt like a rejection, by him. After all, I was used to being completely celibate. Even, for years, at a time. Even while I was a dancer, and men were propositioning me, for sex, on a nightly basis. My core values were conservative ones, and I was a Rape Trauma Survivor, so my having sex that wasn't based on a love relationship never felt right to me, or even seemed worth it, to do. Also, I have always been very medically squeamish which included my not wanting to catch anything, from anyone, which might need to be treated, such as with a shot, or even worse, couldn't be treated, and had no cure. I didn't even want to catch a cold sore from kissing anybody! Lots of things could be transmitted during sexual acts. It had been love that I had always wanted, if I had to choose between the two things. The trouble was, I did not end up feeling I was loved, or desired, by Tom. Just used. But, not the ways that men typically do that, to females. I felt like, I was only wanted as a Mother Substitute, for this boy, that I was now married to. Not a boy in age, but in maturity level. I loved being a caregiver and nurturing my loved one. But, I did not sign a Marriage Certificate to adopt Tom, as my child! Which is, basically, what he was, and acted like, with me. 

In or out of bed, Tom proved to be a disappointment, in every way. He moved into my apartment, with me, when we married. So, he had a friend from work and I go with him to his old apartment, to get his things from there. When we arrived, Tom ran up the stairs, ahead of us. I thought, he had just gone to unlock the door. But, not long after we were inside, starting to gather up his things, I noticed there was a crumpled piece of paper which had been wadded up, lying on the floor. Picking it up, to see what it was, I realized that it was an Eviction Notice, for nonpayment of rent, which Tom's landlord had posted on his apartment door because his rent was delinquent. Tom hadn't mentioned anything, about that, to me. Clearly, he knew it was waiting for him there, when he'd hurried up the stairs ahead of us, apparently to tear it off of the door and quickly toss it aside, hoping I would not see it. It was very concerning, to me, on many levels; not the least of which was my wondering if this guy had married me simply to be able to move into my apartment, with me, because he knew he was going to be evicted from his own due to irresponsibility. I continued to ponder this possibility, to myself, while packing up more of his things. Not long after we got there, he asked his friend, Mark, to come with him, to check out the comic book store, that was just down the block from there. They ended up being gone quite a while, leaving me there, all alone, to continue packing, for him. Mark told me, later, that he had told Tom, when they went over to the store for so long, that I was likely feeling pretty taken advantage of, by him taking off, leaving me to do all his packing, for him. He said that Tom looked completely surprised by that comment, and shrugged it off, assuring him that I was not feeling like that, at all, when, in reality, that was EXACTLY how I was left feeling. Mark, was a married man, who understood, the give and take, honesty, and mutual cooperation, which were necessary for a good marriage. Tom had absolutely NO idea, of how, to be a HUSBAND. He did not even know how to be a GROWN MAN. Tom, thought of Tom.

Tom kept buying, what became, stacks and stacks of comic books, including those he considered to be collectibles. Letting his bills go unpaid, and his responsibilities go unmet. They were his pride and joy. He loved them, so much, that I'm amazed he didn't masturbate on their pages. THEY HAD HIS HEART, NOT ME. Also, we put in a Change Of Address card for his mail to start coming to my apartment address from his old address. The day his forwarded mail began to arrive, I grew alarmed, then angry, as I saw what was being mailed to him! It was a stack of Late Notices, Overdue Bills, Unpaid Bills, and threatening legal letters from businesses he owed money to. Now that I was his spouse, these bills were also MY legal responsibility, although I hadn't known anything at all about them! Tom had not told me a thing, about any of this mess he had made of his finances and his credit standing. When he came home from the base that day, I had him sit down and write letters telling every one of those creditors that he was going to pay them all he owed them and when they could expect that money from him. With, an APOLOGY, to them, for his deliberate dodging of his responsibility, toward their good faith provision, of goods and services to him. I worked out a budget, and we stuck to it, getting him out of that debt, and, started a Savings cushion. Something he did not even have. I was upset that I was LEGALLY LIABLE for his bills, and told him he needed to never do that, again, to his creditors, or to me. At one point, in all the issues I encountered as I tried to help rehabilitate Tom, from being an irresponsible child to a grown up (unsuccessfully, when all was said and done), I had a phone conversation with his First Sergeant, at the military base. He thanked me, for what I was doing, to help Tom, telling me that HE had disciplined Tom twice, already, for the SAME financial irresponsibility, and, that the Air Force would NOT have done that, for him, again, THIS time (that I was doing it), but would have finally DISCHARGED HIM FOR IT! Military members are held to certain standards of conduct, and Tom, was, clearly, not meeting those. So, I also saved his military CAREER; which he enjoyed doing.

Tom did not show me any gratitude, for any, of that, though. Instead, he resented me for requiring adult discipline from him, now. He had a classic case of Peter Pan Syndrome****. Since, he did not want, to act responsibly, he angered easily, and rebelled, seemingly against me, his 'Mom' figure, however unspoken that was. He moved out, then he wanted to be taken care of, again, and wanted to come back, then, he moved out, again, then, came back, again, then, moved out, again . . . . His friend, Mark, knew he was acting like a silly child pitching tantrums and would say as much to me. Apologizing, on Tom's, unrepentant, behalf, for what Tom was putting me through, with all this, whenever Tom enlisted Mark's help, to come get his TV and video games, et cetera, out of my apartment, during some of his move outs. There was so much, in, and out, activity, with Tom, there, that, at one point, the landlord asked me to clarify exactly what was going on, with all that back and forth. It was frustrating, and humiliating, for me. >sigh< I knew the Air Force was sick of it, with him, and was about to discharge him, for his crap, when he latched onto me, and I got it straightened out before another creditor of his complained to the military authorities and Tom got kicked out of the service. He clearly could not do it on his own. Even as much of a disappointment, to me, that Tom was, I sadly had not come across anyone any better, to invest my time, and talents, in. I liked feeling needed, and he certainly needed me. But he also rebelled against my help, and, even against his needing me, rejecting me, in the process of that, due to his resenting he needed me; placing me constantly in a thankless situation, with him.

I had Tom on a budget, but, he still had full access to his own money. I love trying to buy the perfect gift for my loved ones based on who they are. So, as Christmas approached, I bought several nice presents for Tom. His favorite was the Nintendo gaming system. He excitedly connected it to his TV, early Christmas morning, and when, I finally gave up, on expecting any Thank You, or companionship, from him, that long day and went to sleep, finally, late at night, he was still playing it, sitting on the floor, with his back, up against the bed, that I was in. He was consumed by the video games, that I had gotten him. I, had spent almost all day, looking at the back of his head. He had shown me nothing but a complete self-centeredness, our entire relationship, really. But, even so, I admit, that I was, actually, shocked, and frankly hurt, when that Christmas Day arrived and not only because I was his wife but because of all that I had done, for him, I did expect, some kind of a Christmas gift from him . . . and there was NONE. NOTHING. NOT EVEN ONE SINGLE THING. I felt devastated. HOW, could he NOT, even THINK, to get me, even a small box of candy? Something. ANYTHING! It was so inconsiderate of him, that it was actually appalling, to me. I could not BELIEVE that I even had to educate this BOY on how he needs to buy a Christmas gift for his own wife! As a COURTESY, if nothing else. 

When the post-Holiday sales began, just after that, I informed him that he WAS to take me to the mall, and that he WAS going to buy me some Christmas gifts, and, he did. But, it was never HIS idea or intention, to do that, for me, AT ALL. I had to TELL him to. A similar thing happened on my birthday. Whenever he moved out of my apartment, that I had lived in before we married, he would stay on base in the barracks. Dorm 324, actually. The very same one that I had stayed in, while I was stationed at Offutt, when I was in the Air Force. A co-ed dorm, with separate male and female wings. Someone, gave me a single red rose, that day, for my birthday, and because I was going through so much, with Tom. So, I had it with me, when I decided to spend the day going to visit Tom, at the dorm on base, to see if he was happier there, since he kept on, moving into it, from our apartment. He simply sat sulking, on the bed, refusing to make eye contact with me, or talk to me; so I left. But, I left the rose, for him, because, he did not seem to be all that happy, staying there, either. Tom always made things about himself. He knew, it was my birthday, that day, and couldn't even say 'Happy Birthday' to me. Nothing. I never really got anything from him on his own initiative that was affectionate, or affirming. It hurt.

Then he got orders to go to South Korea for a year on a Remote Duty Assignment. Many military wives dread hearing that news, because we heard the stories, about how even the chaplains, which were stationed over there, would get themselves a yobo*****, for that time, while they were away, from their wives, who were back in the States. In plain terms, these men, whether, married or not, religious or not, would avail themselves, of the all-too-eager-to-please Korean women, who would both serve the men, and service the men sexually, while they were there--- often hoping to become a bride, to the man, and be brought to the States, to enjoy the American lifestyle. Tom would be the last guy to ever do that, I thought to myself, since, he never even wanted sex, with his own wife! One day, a couple of months, or so, after he was gone, to Korea, I was trying to withdraw funds to pay my rent from his checking account, and was told that he had closed the account. Now, my rent was due, and I suddenly found myself without access to any money at all; to pay that or anything else! Tom had not said anything to me about him doing that. He just did it. However, military members are required to provide support to their dependents, and are even allotted more money in their paychecks, once they are married, specifically for this reason. I called the base he was at in Korea because of the urgency, of the situation, and was told that he was not in on that shift, but would be in later. Then his co-worker who answered the phone when I called told me that he thought I should know that Tom was living with his yobo; that he had one of those. My heart just sank. HOW, could TOM, of all people, have a YOBO?!?  I was devastated; again. When I called back later, and got Tom on the phone, he admitted it. MY husband, who wouldn't sleep with ME, had gone to Korea, and in shockingly short order had, basically, gotten himself a, sexual, slave, to meet his every desire (if he actually HAD any desires, which was UNPROVEN, as far as MY experience with him). He even told me, quite matter-of-factly, that he struck the young Korean woman, at times, if she didn't please him. He said they met when she sat down with him, in a bar or somewhere, and had tapped her finger on his wedding ring, asking him if he were married. I didn't know what to think, but we got divorced. One, of my pet peeves, about men, especially if they're married, is that they don't hesitate to do things that, if it were reversed, and their WIFE was doing those very same things, they couldn't handle it. Yet they expect US to just ACCEPT that behavior, from THEM. NOT ME! I don't, and, I won't. Good riddance.

I was so hurt, so mad, so disillusioned, so fed up by that point that I called up the First Sergeant, of the main Air Force weather command, Global Weather, at Offutt, who had once thanked me, for saving Tom's career, and told him, that my military husband had closed the bank account without warning or explanation and left me, his legal spouse, with no support, which is not allowed by the military. These men are required to act responsibly toward their dependents. He contacted the Remote Unit, in Korea, and told Tom, that he must provide a percentage of his pay, for my financial support, and he saw to it, that Tom arranged for that, in a legally binding agreement which would remain in effect for the year that it took for our divorce to be final when I'd relinquish my dependent ID. Then I moved right across from the Air Force base, so that I could spend the entire year, that a Nebraska divorce took to complete, living like a single woman, that whole time. I still had my dependent ID to go onto the base, so I used it, to go shopping, go to a Bible study/book club at the chapel, go to the library, and movie theater, on base, and, even to the NCO club, to go dancing. I had a blast! I never had sex with any of the men, but being around the base, ALONE, as a FEMALE, meant that I wasn't EVER lonely for MALE companionship, AT ALL. I did not wear my wedding ring, anymore, and I was in a divorce. I decided to have Play Time, for a change, because being committed to a male--- especially in marriage--- had NEVER PAID OFF for ME. I didn't even really have to flirt. Men just landed at my feet wherever I went on that base. It was like that disco era song (I LOVE DISCO!), 'It's Rainin' Men'******! One day, I actually had two different guys, that I was seeing, happen to come over to my apartment, at the very same time, to ask me out for that evening, and they started yelling at each other, outside my door! Arguing about, which, of them was going to take me out! I shook my head, and smiled, at that, and I let them work it out, themselves, because, I had been going out with both of them and, several, other men as well!

I did not even need to keep any food in my apartment across from the base, for 6 months straight, because I was asked out to eat so often, that I never missed any meals! All of this male attention, was feeding my soul, and rejuvenating my spirit, after Tom had treated me so badly; using me, rejecting me, and then abandoning me. I was dating an Intelligence Officer on the Looking Glass; a MSgt that worked and traveled with the IG team; and I even had a brief, romantic, relationship with Tom's former First Sergeant, who happened to be divorced himself. After meeting me in person, he could not understand, how on Earth, Tom had not responded, to this sexy wife, he had, in me. We got as far as his bed, before his ethics kicked in along with his hard on, and, Mike said, that, since Tom could be returning, to that unit, here, at Offutt, after the year in Korea, that he thought it was too much of a conflict of interest, to bed me--- although I was naked, in his bed, when he made that--- correct and understandable--- decision. So, I ALMOST had sex ONCE, that whole year. The rest of the time, I just dated lots of different guys, going dancing, bowling, eating out, including at the Officer, and NCO, clubs, and having a REALLY GOOD TIME. When the year was ending, and the divorce was final, I took a nanny job near Poughkeepsie, New York, in Wappingers Falls, working for a single father, who had custody of his 4 daughters including a pair of twins, from elementary, to high school ages, but I will cover that in another blog post specifically about that.

This post covered the gist of my first marriage to Tom who was my third husband. Amazingly, I gave him a second chance, a year or so, later, I think it was, and we got married, a second time. But, I will cover that in a separate post, because this post is already fairly long. I did finally learn my lesson, but it wasn't soon enough to avoid repeating my mistake, where Tom, was concerned. So, I made it TWICE!

meat market: a meeting place such as a bar or nightclub for people seeking sexual encounters.

** What is the meaning of make do? To cope with something even though the circumstances are not ideal. To live with the insufficient or unsatisfactory resources available.

*** The "Minute Waltz" is the nickname for the Waltz in D flat major, Op. 64, No. 1 by Frederic Chopin. A typical performance of the work will last between ​1 1⁄2 and ​2 1⁄2 minutes.

**** Peter Pan Syndrome is when an adult doesn't want to take responsibility and mature. It is most often seen in, and is usually associated with, males. These are people who do not want to, or feel unable to, grow up, and therefore behave more like a child than a grown-up. An excellent article, explaining this syndrome, which was written by Crystal Raypole, can be found at the following link: https://www.healthline.com/health/peter-pan-syndrome. I saw Tom's behaviors described very accurately, in what this article explains about it.

***** yobo - means honey, sweetheart, darling, in Korean. "yobo" is a term Korean spouses call each other. Yobo is also what a woman is called who does household and sexual tasks for U.S. military men stationed in Korea.

****** Video of the disco era song, 'It's Rainin' Men': https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfmZRiePkEM

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

The Men In My Life When I Was A Dancer

The men. 

Where to start, describing them, and their various effects on me, from during my dancer years.

When I was in the Air Force, I was really struggling, with how to exist, in a healthy, happy, way, in an environment where men far outnumbered me and the other females there. 99.99% of the time, I felt like I was a pursuit, to them, and not a person. That wasn't a good way to feel to me. To be truly known, and really loved, for who I am, which my heart had always yearned for, was something that the limitations of men's lust didn't allow for. As a dancer in the nightclubs, I was once again in an environment which was populated mostly by men, and, more understandably, at least, given the atmosphere, with that same mindset of men toward me. Although my having been a dancer, and eventually doing prostitution, during this time in my life, seems, at least, by stereotype, to contradict this statement---  I have never actually been into such strictly physical involvements. I have always been someone who does not want or welcome any type of casual sexual relationships; in my body, or my life. I have known plenty of people, that seem eager, to jump into that type of thing, with little if any thought. I find such behavior to be truly concerning. On the deepest, truest, levels, physically, mentally, emotionally, and, even spiritually, I can only connect my sexuality with something that I feel deeply, in my heart, for someone special. Even when I have tried to project the opposite of that outwardly, at times, for whatever reason, it has always only been an act. My 'Stevie' side, I developed for my dancing career, was, also, never turned on, by men asking me, if my pubic hair was shaved into a heart shape, or, if my nipples were large or small, and telling me they would be great in bed if I would just give in to that with them. Honestly, that kind of thing always just grossed me out, even when the guys were good-looking or had other positive attributes aside from these common come-ons that I had to listen to every single shift I worked, as a dancer. >sigh< It was an inevitable and unavoidable part of the job. Maybe, I was the only girl, there, that felt this way, about it. But, what I enjoyed, about this job, was the dancing. Expressing myself!  Albeit, even my sexuality, and passion, to some extent. In reality, I kept all of that locked away, inaccessible, to these men, beneath my normal reserve, and even aversion, to males making advances when they made it clear that love and a real relationship had nothing to do with their attention or intention, toward me. This crap was simply a nuisance to me that I had to put up with, as a trade-off for a real sense of satisfaction and enjoyment, I got, from performing, up on the stage, interpreting the music, with my dance.

Since the stereotype about dancers led me to believe that I would almost certainly not find real love, in any of the Go Go bars that I was working in, despite my constant interactions with men in them, it, therefore, also felt like a relief to me, to be going into such places, where I would no longer even expect that, to happen, in my life. I wouldn't have to feel that it was because I was unlovable, anymore. Now I could attribute not finding it, not having it, to my job, instead of who  I was as a person. Guys did not see dancers as real people. They saw dancers as sex objects and fodder for their fantasies. They pictured us as always wearing sequins, not sweatpants, in their mind. If they wanted to see or get to know 'real' girls, they wouldn't come in those places, to begin with. What these men wanted, when they came into the Go Go bars, was an escape! From reality. I was a very real woman though, with a heart made of flesh not stone, which had been ripped apart, by what too many men had already put me through in my life. I would get a PhD-level education about males, from my becoming a dancer, and logging so many hours of conversations, and interactions, with them, over many years, in those nightclubs. They did not come in there wanting to meet a real human being. I had to learn to play the part, and be their fantasy; but, that didn't just serve the purposes of these men. I created a persona (my dancer alter ego, Stevie), who was protectively positioned in front of the 'real' me, and stood strong. I was already completely brokenhearted, and, could, potentially, be hurt, even more. By any, of these men. Stevie did not let them in, behind the mask, to see Deborah there, vulnerable, and hurting. Curled up, in a fetal position, sobbing her heart out. I had to create, and then develop, Stevie, though. I was dancing as Debby, when I started, my first night at the Razzle Dazzle as a Go Go girl, and that was simply not going to work--- to put someone, still that naive, trusting, and good-hearted into this arena surrounded by people that were completely comfortable in a world that I did not yet understand, or know how to navigate, in a way that protected me, from further physical or emotional harm. I would most definitely have been destroyed in some form or fashion, if I had continued, to expose my 'Debby' side, to this job. As soon as I was able, to comprehend enough about being a dancer, to know, what I needed to do, to survive and even thrive doing it, I brought 'Stevie' to the forefront, of me, and I let, that side, take over, in my life.

I eventually evolved fully into my dancer alias 'Stevie'.  It finally became who I was without my thinking about or trying to become that persona anymore. It was quite a change in many ways from who, and what, 'Debby' had been. In some ways, that was a release, and a relief. Debby was drained by takers and users. Stevie recognized peoples' crap when she saw it and made sure they knew she wasn't having it from them or anyone, even with just one steely-eyed look at them and not a word said*. I had NO time or energy to suffer fools gladly. (I still don't to this day, after living my life that way then! That was just part of the legacy that Stevie left me when she became who I was; and who I still am, to a large extent. All my decisions and movements had a purpose in my life when living as Stevie, supporting my own goals and my own agenda. My sweet, sacrificial, warm-heartedness cooled, down to frost-bite-level, toward gameplayers, assholes, and idiots, which this world apparently has a surplus of, based on how many I have met, and had to deal with, in my own life. While there were always nuances and traces, of the other side of me, no matter which side I was leading with, in my life, at any given time, Stevie was alot more assertive, as far as interacting with other people, because she had to be, to be  a dancer. She, was my stage presence. I could not have done that job, as long, or as well, if I had not created and developed that persona. I am not, by nature, always all that comfortable, being around other people. Especially, in unfamiliar, or stressful, social settings; as 'Deborah'. 'Stevie' was my outgoing side. Going up to strangers or having them come up to me, at work, night after night, was one of the most difficult parts of the job for me. As I said, because I was required, to sit, and talk, with all types of men, who came into these clubs, as part of my job, I eventually obtained, the equivalent of, an unofficial PhD in Male Psychology. It came down to my knowing, almost word for word, what would come out of a guy's mouth before I ever even approached him, simply based on his body language, when he walked in the door of the club. It was foolproof so much of the time that it was almost like a science, it was so certain. It was, also, so disappointing, and discouraging, to me.  All these men, being this predictable in their carnality, and superficiality. Their horniness, and often, misogyny, was always at the forefront.

I admit, that, during my dancer years, especially because I was surrounded by so much of this type of mindset from the males that I had to interact with at work, six nights a week, there was also a certain level of prick-tease payback, I did, toward these men, for all the ways and times they had, and still, continued to, fail me, throughout my life. And, worse, done me actual harm. Some would say, that 'Stevie' was the dark side, of me, and in some ways, and at some times, I would agree, with that. But 'Stevie' also stood up for herself and didn't take crap off of people, and gave herself permission to dismiss someone from her presence with an emphatic, "FUCK OFF!" when she felt that to be necessary. 'Stevie' enjoyed a freedom from the constraints and shackles of others' opinions, and expectations, which, had held me hostage, for my whole life, before that, as Deborah; the good girl, who had no choice, because she had no voice. 'Stevie' was brought to the forefront, from the depths, of me, to run things, much more, on HER terms, for awhile. No, I am not describing a split personality. I simply, ascribed certain characteristics, and permissions, to my alter ego, socially, when I created that, 'Stevie' persona, to work in the nightclubs, in order to survive, this whole, new, world, which I had now become a part of, as a dancer in the Go Go bars of the Omaha area. For better, or for worse, as far as the effect of it on me, and on my life, 'Stevie', was the part of me, that could cope with, living that kind of life. As a case in point of my summoning 'Stevie' to carry that kind of confident vampiness off, one day, several years, after I, finally, had to retire, from dancing, I was walking down the sidewalk alongside one of Omaha's busiest streets (S.72nd Street) headed to a fast food restaurant for my lunch break, from the large book store that I now worked in, as a cashier. As I spotted The Twenties night club, not far down, from there, on a side street, those memories of my dancing there for years came back to me. I was having a crappy workday at the bookstore. I was paid minimum wage there working for people who didn't appear to ether recognize, or respect, my value. I was feeling pretty discouraged. So, when I saw, the nightclub, those memories raised up that feisty, take no crap, 'Stevie' side of me, and I burst into doing my Stevie walk--- a very sleek, and sexy, runway, kind of confident stride--- just to lift my spirits some. I wasn't thinking about anyone actually watching me, until I heard the SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH of a car, trying to brake very abruptly, and then the sound of the car hitting something in the street.  I turned to look behind me, to see where that startling noise was coming from, and saw a guy, still staring at ME, from the driver's seat, of that car, with a look of bewildered disbelief, on his face, as reality, had, literally, come crashing back, into his life, from whatever place of fantasy watching me walk that way had transported him. He had run into the median, in the center of the street, and hit the stop sign, that he didn't even see; until it was too late. Ah, the power, of  a certain type of a woman's walk on a man . . . . It's amazing to me. I hope he had insurance!

Sometimes the club customers 'courted me' romantically, in ways that were somewhat bizarre. I had a regular customer, at the Backdoor Lounge, who was actually a fairly young, unmarried, minister, from Louisville, Nebraska, about a 30 minute drive, from Omaha. He felt fairly secure that none of his parishioners would find him, sitting in a Go Go bar, that distance away, and he was tired of being single, but, equally tired of well-meaning church women trying to set him up with what he saw as their dull and dowdy daughters. Even though he was a 'man of the cloth', he explained to me that he had the normal, male, desire for something that was more exciting in a woman; especially, one he would consider marrying. He was average looking, and a nice enough man, although, not particularly captivating company, for me. But, he made a pleasant and preferred regular, for me, in the nightclub, because I tended to keep the nicer guys as my regulars. I had no desire, to deal with the guys that were just jerks. In there, or anywhere else. Since I am a Christian, and actually fairly well versed in all things 'Christian'--- which, seemed to surprise many, since, I was a dancer, and therefore, bucking their stereotype, of me, in that way--- we had that foundational background in common. However, one night, he offered me a ride home, after work, after I'd known him for some time, and he pulled this hand puppet from the back seat of his car, put in on his hand, explained to me that it was the same one he used every Sunday, to give the Children's Sermon portion of the church service, and then used it to speak to me, for him, about the naughty little things it (he) fantasized about doing to my body!  I cooled, toward him, completely, after that, because, now, I pictured him, using that thing with the preschool age children, at his church, and wondered if he had such thoughts toward them when he had this same puppet on his hand. He AND the PUPPET were now CREEPY to me!

During my dancer years, all things with men and how they are or tend to be, taken as a whole, I became extremely glad that I was single and did not have a husband to wonder about, as far as his whereabouts, when he was not home, with me, or his faithfulness, to the vows, he took, which many men do not seem to be very concerned about staying true to after they say those. My extensive education that I got, about men, especially, during these years, of my life, taught me that, they are not worth it, and are also more trouble than they are worth. Especially, as far as what I gave, for what I got, with them. It was both, funny, and sad, to me, to be shopping in the women's department at a store in the mall, and see one of the club customers, standing 6' tall, or so, desperately trying to shrink themselves down, to try to hide, behind the 5'5" woman they were with, which was clearly their wife. The look on their face was one of silently begging me not to speak to them, or in any way indicate that I even knew them; especially not, where I knew them from! There was one, club customer, that I knew, from the very last nightclub that I worked in, who was a route salesman. He lived in Minnesota, but had to regularly drive down, to Omaha, as part of his travels for his job. He provided embalming supplies to funeral homes. I never did anything sexual with him. Not even a kiss, not an embrace, nothing. He seemed to be a really nice man, and he felt lonely on the road, with only his motel rooms, along his route, the funeral parlors he sold to, and eating alone at the end of each day. That is why he came in to the club, I worked in, both, to watch the exotic dancers, on stage, and because this bar also served food, not just drinks. Otherwise, he simply sat in his motel room, watching TV alone, at night. I don't recall him even drinking alcohol. I felt sorry for him, so I agreed to eat dinner with him out at a restaurant. After that, every time he regularly came to town, on his sales route, he called me and asked me to eat dinner with him. I did, but I am sure I shouldn't have as he was a married man. Eventually, after a few months of this, despite no romantic behaviors, between us, he called me and said that he should not be doing this, and he ended our dinners together. 

The next month, though, he called me up, and was extremely angry with me that I had heartily endorsed that decision of his, and had not made him feel more 'wanted' by begging him not to stop our dinners together! His ego was wounded, because it had not bothered me in the least, or phased me at all. He had apparently gotten emotionally invested in his relationship with me; not a good thing to do. His sales route was so mundane and drab, to him, that, by comparison, I had become the bright spot, in his trip. I had no real involvement with him, though, and, I had thought he had done the right thing, when he said a married man should not be having dinner, in restaurants, with another woman, especially not on a regular basis. Despite our never being romantically involved, with one another, I nevertheless felt very uncomfortable, when he would call his wife--- at their agreed upon time in the evening--- while I was sitting across from him at a restaurant table. It bothered me to hear him tell his wife that he was sitting in his motel room, ordering dinner in for himself or such, and it just wasn't true. I knew his wife likely believed her husband though; and I knew that, more than likely, my second husband had done me like that and more than once, in our relationship; a hunch I have just based on how emotionally distant we became, with one another, and how, he never talked, to me, about, where he went, or was, when he was out, which was fairly often. >sigh<  I knew these same men wouldn't like it, if this behavior was done in reverse, to them, either, which made me even madder, that they thought we deserved no better, than this, from them! Every time this club customer I was having dinner with hung up the phone, after telling his wife those lies, right in front of me, as a witness, to it, I could see that, for him, that was simply a 'courtesy call' he made to her, that he did not feel the least bit guilty about doing. I lost my temper, when this, married, club customer started actually telling me off, when he returned to town next, and tried to renew our get-togethers after he had stopped them, himself, which I had readily approved of and agreed to. It had become a bizarre 'jerking me around', now, due to his own conflicting emotions. I was not having it, and I told him to never contact me again, or I would tell his wife. He lived in a small town, and he had told me where. I actually would not have told her, and hurt her, but he did not know that; and I said that to break his attachment, to me, which needed to happen. We had only eaten dinners, together, in restaurants, but I knew that he had become too emotionally invested in me, for whatever his reasons, when he called me once from Minnesota, where he was home, with his wife and kids, for the weekend. He told me that he had deliberately got out of going to church, with his family, like he usually did, on Sunday mornings, so that, he could call me, 'just to hear my voice'. That made me feel sick, inside, and I regretted ever agreeing, to be his dinner companion, when he came to town on his sales route. He also created an email account just to contact me, he said. 

There was something else, about him, that angered me most of all. Not so much, directly, as it was not aimed at me. But, I was especially upset, with something that he did once, during one of our dinners, because of my own father, failing me, in the same way that this man was doing to his daughter. This man was tall, and thin, just like my father. He looked alot like him too. He actually could have even been my distant relative, I suppose, because, he even had the same last name! He was alot like my father, in many ways. Perhaps, my relationship with him was a way of my trying to vicariously have the attention and affirmation, from him, that my dad never gave me. On this one particular evening, as we were eating dinner at a restaurant, he dutifully made his obligatory phone call to his wife. They talked a bit, as I sat across the table from him feeling awkward about it all, even though we did not have a romantic, or a sexual, relationship with one another. When their conversation was finished, he looked annoyed, and, without any prompting, or prying, from me, about whatever was causing him to look so angry, he began to tell me, with disdain, dripping, from every word that he said, that his daughter, who was in her late teens, or early twenties, was in counseling, and had described, to the counselor, how this man, her father, had ruined her life due to emotionally crippling** her, because of his physical and emotional absence from her life. She felt an aloofness, indifference, and lack of nurturing from him, just as I had felt from my father, for my whole life. He looked across the table at me, with unbridled hostility, displayed in every feature of his face, and said, to me, "She just wants somebody to blame. I couldn't possibly have 'ruined' her life! I am almost never even around!" 

"It is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard--- but, it is so like her," he continued, as I held my temper, outwardly, because we were sitting in a crowded family restaurant, in the mall; but internally, I was livid, listening to this, clueless, father simply shrug off his own daughter's pain, which was caused by his own ignorance of, and impatience with, her needs. My life, had been impacted in this same, very negative way, because of my father's refusing to be affirming, and affectionate, toward me. That, drove me into a marriage, and, out of school, as a freshman, at age 18, because, as soon, as I left home--- where my emotional needs were not being met, at all, I was extremely vulnerable, to any male attention, and nurturance, which I was starving for. That showed up in my life almost as soon as I went away to college in the form of my half-first cousin, who lived in that city, and took advantage of me sexually, causing me to feel that I was forced to marry him then.*** My own father wasn't communicative or loving, toward me. When he would interact with me it was always very short and to the point, in which he almost always communicated his disappointment in, or disdain toward, me, adding insult, to that injury, to my soul, with unhelpful hostility, whenever a situation arose for which I needed his understanding, and support. So, I eloped, rather than explain to him, that I was failing my classes, while away at college, now, and falling apart, emotionally, because my cousin gave me that attention, and affection, that I was starving for, from a male figure in  my life; and that I thought, when he got me drunk, one night, that he had raped me. I flashback to that, here, because my relationship with my dad was my first information and education about men, and affected my relationships, and their outcomes---  especially, those I had with men---  throughout my life. My father would rarely be supportive, helpful, or understanding, toward me, and, the little, that he was, was not enough, to make a positive impact on my life, by counteracting, or undoing, the majority of the times that he failed me, as a father. He would never see, realize, or admit, how much of who I was or what I did happened because he had never really been a dad to me. Just like this club customer, denigrating his daughter, my father, would have reacted this very same way. In that moment, as I was listening to this man, absolutely refuse, to take any blame, or responsibility, for how his daughter was damaged, by his own omissions, and commissions, in his (lack of a healthy, nurturing) relationship, with her, I hated them both. Him, and my father. I saw them as two very ignorant, unseeing, males. I wasn't sure, if they, truly, didn't comprehend their hugely damaging, negative impact, on their daughters, or whether they were so upset, to be accused of it, because they knew, it was true, deep down, that they had failed their daughters; but they really didn't care, or, just didn't know what to do, so, rather than try, to deal with it, they simply shut down, and ignored the issue. Regardless, every little girl, that grew up to be a dancer, or  a prostitute, used to be some man's daughter, who either did, or didn't, affirm her, nurture her, or demonstrate to her that she is worthy of respect, and loving care, and especially from men.

I had met this man I was having dinner with at the last club that I ever danced at, before I was finally forced to retire, from the business. I had put off that, dreaded, day, as long as I possibly could, because I enjoyed doing this job so much! (The dancing, not the dealing with the men.)  I had always looked younger than my age, up until my sixties which I am midway through now and is when the stresses of life have begun to really age me. Rapidly. I was still on stage until the year 2000 when I was 44 years old. People guessed my age at around mid-to-late thirties. The trouble was, by your late thirties--- whether that was a dancer's actual age or the age she appeared to be--- you were considered to be too old to be in the dancing business. Most men wanted to feast their eyes on, and get their hands on, the nubile younger women who weren't yet jaded or cynical toward them, or, they hoped, toward their, inevitable, sexual advances on them. I was in my late twenties, when I started working as a dancer, so I had a late start, at it, as it was. I had seen several other girls grow too old, or ugly, to be able to remain a dancer in any viable way, if only because the ability to get hired, and the income from tips from the club customers, dried up, right along with their estrogen. It left me feeling very uneasy that, for the ones that stayed too long, in the business, the blatant disrespect they started to receive, from bosses who fired them, sometimes actually physically throwing them out of their nightclub, by literally grabbing them off the stage, and from club customers, who wouldn't even set eyes on them when they danced or sit with them so they could sell their drink quota for the shift, could be something that could happen to me, too, someday. It was both sad and scary, to me. I told myself, I would not allow myself to stay until I, too, was asked, or even worse, told, to leave. I realized that day was finally almost upon me, at Lipstix in Council Bluffs, Iowa, which was the last club that I worked at. I quit soon after this happened to me: I got along well with the other dancers and not one of them made me feel like I didn't still belong. I had earned their respect, my years in the business. One night, when I was up on stage, a young man, probably half my age, then, so, in his early twenties, held out his dollar, folded in half, lengthwise, like tips were usually presented to us dancers; and when I knelt down to have him slip it into the side of my costume bottom, he said, to me, observationally, with no disrespect, in his voice, at all, "I give you props, for being up there. You look good, for your age!"  I forced a smile, which was hard, for me, in that moment, as I simultaneously felt a wince, trying to take hold, instead. I felt self-doubt set in, I started dreading my dances, and I knew, that the fun had ended, for me, in this career. The reality, had finally hit me; that I could no longer do this job. THAT day, had COME.

Just, to give you some examples, of why, the guy, at Lipstix, who simply said, sincerely, to me, "You look good, for your age!" was letting me off easy, compared to how the customers speak to, treat, and talk about, some of the dancers in these nightclubs, I just Googled Reviews for a couple of these bars that I actually used to dance in 'back in the day'; decades ago, now. Here is a ONE STAR Review, of Lipstix, that I Googled, just now, to show you what customers have to say, about how the dancers look, through their eyes. It's a tough business. Especially, if you happen to be an aging dancer:

Rick S. Omaha, NE 1/3/2018
Slow paced depressing atmosphere, bikini bar. Variety of girls ranging from the sublime (a couple) to the ridiculous(most). A couple of them were a little scarey to look at. Typical midwest bikini bar with just average girls at best.  

Here is another, One Star, online, Review. This one is about The Twenties nightclub in Omaha, where I also used to work, decades ago. It was the best Go Go bar, in the area, when I worked there:

Dave R. Sioux Falls, SD 8/30/2016
Can't rate lower than a 1. That's yelp's shortcomings. This place is a nightmare. Coming from an out of town guest. Apparently Nebraska has a no, nudity law?? You can't strip below a bra and panties. I can see that shit on Disney. Also, if a girl stands next to to you (hangs with you) you HAVE to buy them drink. IF you want to have a private dance, it's a mandatory drink buy for them..... And 25 per girl per song.. Unless you have two people, then two girls (at 25 per girl/per song).. Then it cost 100 bucks. Cuz they switch in the middle of one song, so one song, two ppl, two girls.. Means they danced 1/2 a song per person. Apparently means they're worth double. Asked their manager and he said the math gets "hard". Maybe for his ignorant ass. Math is pretty easy. When I told him that, he said the math is different in this industry. I know people in "this industry" and they don't need to run scams to make money. Girls take off their clothes (not at your bar) that should be enough. If you can't make money off that without screwing ignorant people. Then, good for you. God bless you and eat shit.

Alot of the guys that came in these bars were not jerks. But, some of them were real assholes. One night I was sitting in the club waiting for the start of the show, when another dancer came and sat by me just to chat. I was feeling really disgusted by men, right about then, because of some of the crap, that they had been doing, which was causing me to lose all my faith in them as decent human beings who could think with their actual head and not their little head in their pants. Because, we girls worked together, in the same room, every night, we knew, who knew which club customers, and which guys were newcomers to the bar, or strangers to us. (In fact, we would even, go back, to the dressing rooms, and let a girl know, when one of her 'regulars' came in the club, so she could get out there, and make her money.) So, this other dancer that was talking with me, then, tried to tell me that it was not as bad, as what I was making it out to be, about men. I looked her in the eyes, and said to her, "I'll bet you, it is! You pick ANY guy in this room, as long as you know it isn't someone that you or I know in here, and just go sit near enough, to them, to be able to hear my conversation with them. Once you get in position, I will come over and say something to the guy. ANY guy, YOU PICK! And I just want you to listen to what he says. She said okay and walked over to the large bar and sat down near a guy sitting on a bar stool there, not speaking with him, at all. Then I walked over to him, never having set eyes on him before, in my life, and tapped him on the shoulder, as she watched from close by. As soon as he swiveled around to face me I stepped in between his manspread**** legs while noticing his wedding ring, on the hand holding his drink, and I said, to him, "Hey, baby! Do you wanna have sex, with me, tonight?" He sat straight up in his chair and, with a voice, filled, with his excitement, and enthusiasm, he replied, right away, to me (nothing else, said, between us), "Heck yeah!" I didn't say another word, to him, at all, but I looked at her then, and said, "That's why." Then I walked off, and sat back down, across the room, where I was before. Point made. 

That predictably.

It was disgusting, to me!

These guys NEVER asked if we could get PREGNANT by them, and even if they didn't CARE about US, or THEIR BABY, they also did not contemplate that we could require paternity tests, and take them to court, for child support. (Guys seem to universally hate wearing condoms so  I sidestepped alot of sexual 'offers' from the men while I was a dancer by saying that I couldn't have sex with them because I wasn't on birth control. I wasn't. I had my tubes tied, when I was 28 years old, so I had been surgically sterilized. But, I wasn't telling them that, because I didn't want ANYTHING like what THEY WERE OFFERING. Or, should I say, TRYING TO GET, from me.) These guys did not ever ASK, whether we had some sexually transmitted disease--- and some of those diseases are not curable! In fact, when HIV Aids was first on the scene it was a DEATH SENTENCE and sleeping with someone even ONE time could INFECT YOU WITH IT if they had it. These men were often MARRIED men, that came in there, too. They could have gone home and given their wives herpes, for life, or spread a deadly disease, like AIDS, to the woman at home in their bed, trusting this husband that they loved, from the faith that they had shared marriage VOWS with one another making a MUTUAL COMMITMENT; even a spiritual COVENANT. It is considered, a SACRED union, in churches, and synagogues; not, just a civil ceremony. In fact these men ALSO usually didn't ask US if we were married, or if they did ask, THEY DIDN'T CARE ABOUT THAT. If they could get SEX, from you, that is ALL, they CARED about. That disgusts me, to the core of my being, about males. I see them as being weak and needy, selfish, unfaithful, untrustworthy, not worth, letting into your life. And, as someone, who clearly does not see women as real people with feelings, rather than simply as sex objects, or they would be much less likely, I would think, to do this crap to their wives or with the dancers. The fact that they see this behavior as harmless, to all parties involved, on any level, or if they don't, they still do it, anyway, leaves me feeling extremely grateful, that I do not have a man in my life, in my bed, or in my body, anymore. Nor do I want one of these low-life creatures. It's a hard thing when you were raised, from the time you were a little girl, to believe you would end up with a principled hero, and 99.99% of the men, you've encountered, are anything BUT that. 

Some of the club customers would just be 'handsy', always trying to 'cop a feel' whenever and wherever they could on whichever dancer they happened to be in proximity to, which was bad enough. Occasionally some asshole would just flat out grab for our crotch. In my entire career, as a dancer, only one pulled that particular move on me, when I had walked up to his table, to introduce myself, since we had never met, and he quickly reached out, and grabbed me there, but on the outside of my costume bottom. I reactively slapped his face, for it, then immediately retreated to the dressing room, to scream, in my fury, and pound on the wall, in there, with my clenched fists, to try to get my rage out from his doing that to me, so I could go back out there and do my job, dancing on stage, and mingling, between sets, with club customers, so I could sell my drink quota for the shift. One trick that men sometimes used, with the dancers that sat with them, was to tell a dancer that their tip was down inside his pant's pocket and she had to reach in there to get it to see 'how big of a tip' it was. Many a dancer learned the hard way, no pun intended, not to fall for that trick, after discovering the guy had cut a hole in the bottom of his pants pocket, and he had no underwear on. He did this so that, when the dancer reached in, she got a handful of his hard-on. Even worse though, was something that happened to me on stage, one time. Two customers, came in, one night, and sat right up by the stage. I didn't know, what was coming, from them, at all, because, I had never seen, any guys, do this, to a dancer, before. One of them stood up, to tip me, during my dance, holding his dollar bill in his hand, and the other also stood, to tip me, simultaneously. As I knelt to allow them to place the two tips into the side of the waistband of my costume bottom, they both suddenly dived down, with their hands, into the interior of my costume. As I realized, with shock and horror, that they were ambushing me (also, no pun intended), I frantically tried to break free and stand back up but, these two men, BOTH had their hands DOWN INSIDE my pants! I felt the one, in front, of me, actually put his fingers on my vulva, and he was trying to shove it into my vaginal opening when I fell over onto the stage floor, while trying to pull myself free of them. Adding insult, they BOTH KEPT THEIR TIPS, which were apparently only offered to me as a ploy, to ambush me, so they could literally touch my, most private, body parts. They knew, I couldn't simultaneously fight off TWO MEN, trying to grab my genitals with their bare hands, at once, so at least one of them would get to sexually assault me, in that way; which these strangers did, to me, on stage.

By the way, AL, the bouncer, there, at the Backdoor Lounge, was a jerk, himself. So he wasn't alot of help. He had defected, from working for Mickey, to come to work for, his buddy, Dick, at the Backdoor. AL didn't even try, to hide his misogyny, toward the very dancers that customers came to see, which made him a nice living, as well. He was irritable and indifferent, and spent most of his time, just sitting on his ass, on a bar stool, by the door, so that he could at least ID people coming in, to be sure that they were of legal age, so the bar didn't get its liquor license pulled. Other than performing that duty, he mostly sat staring at the bar TV in the corner of the room almost all night, every night, rather than ensuring that the customers interacting with the dancers, continually, were not getting out of hand, which, was supposed to be the biggest part of, what he got paid, to do. He never showed any of the dancers any real courtesy. He had an attitude that suggested that he was really bitter toward women. So, when he got really old and had to retire, he had only one friend, in the entire bar. A dancer named Michelle, who took pity, and was kind to him, even after all his hatefulness to all of us, including her, through the years. (I was not so warm-hearted, to him, when he suddenly tried to be friendly, to me, at the end of his career. His negligence had resulted in horrible things, happening, to me, such as when the two strangers, literally, grabbed my female genitalia, unimpeded, sexually assaulting me, right up on the stage, because we did not have a BOUNCER that DID HIS JOB PROTECTING US! Having AL as a bouncer was like NOT HAVING a bouncer and the customers could easily see that, about him.) After AL retired, he got hit by a car crossing the street, as he was walking the few blocks, from his apartment in an old, run down, high-rise, to see Michelle--- his only friend in the world--- because he was so cold, and mean, to everyone else, all the long years that he had worked there, that nobody liked him. Except her. And, that was because of her, generous, heart, toward him. Not because he deserved such a caring friend, as she was, to him, the last year or so of his life. Despite her wild streak that often got her into trouble at work, in this way, at least, she was a better woman, than me, for how she dealt with AL; showing him grace and mercy. I could have, and, probably, should have. But, I didn't. He never really recovered, from that accident, and his health rapidly declined, after that. Ironically, he came to the club, to see her, because, after he retired and left the bar, he didn't want to sit home and watch TV all day. Ultimately, AL was found dead a few blocks down the street from the bar he had worked in for so many years, in the apartment he had lived alone in with his cat; curled up in a fetal position on the floor with rigor mortis already set in before anyone found him. He didn't really have any friends, except, to her credit, not his, big-hearted Michelle. He died all alone. She took his cat.

I did not include, in this post, the two men, whom I met as club customers in one of the Go Go bars that I worked in, that I married. They were both from the Backdoor Lounge. Apparently, it attracted abusers; as did I. Which, is one of the biggest reasons that I finally determined that I would stay single, for the rest of my life. And, I have, and quite happily so, for over 3 decades now. Life is not perfect or probably ever all we hoped it would be. But, I have a good life, now, and I have to say that, for me, the men, that I allowed, into my private life, to any extent, from simply friendship, to physical intimacy, to marital commitment, were such a disappointment to me, for a myriad of reasons, depending on the relationship that we had with each other, that I don't miss having that--- or, having to deal with that--- at all! It works better, FOR ME, if I keep men at arms length, from me. Physically AND emotionally. Men only seemed interested in me for whatever was in it FOR THEM. When it was over, I always felt like, they had, plugged into me, and then, simply sucked the life energy right out of me, for their own nurturance, and just stepped over my drained body and soul, to move on to their next ambition or their next victim as the case may be. I never got anything, in return for my trouble, after allowing them into my life, that was good or good FOR me. I GAVE OUT all I HAD, and BURNED OUT from DOING that. There is nothing else left in me, that I have, or want, to give, to them now, in those ways. The only relationships, that I welcome, or value, with men, now, are those rare ones, that are cherished friends, who are mutually supportive, and don't try to work their agenda on me like most men do constantly, if they are allowed anywhere near my life. Sex may be overrated by men, and underrated by women. But it definitely undercuts the chances of a real relationship developing between two people on the basis of a true friendship when it is always 'rearing its ugly head', and, crowding out, every other option, to interact, with one another, in a, mutually, beneficial way. Many men, do not seem interested, in developing a friendship, with a woman. We would all be better off if that were the very foundation of ANY type of relationship that we share together. Those close friends that I have, that are men, are almost always gay, though.

I also didn't include the men that I did prostitution with, in this post, although there were only a few of them, that I met in the Backdoor Lounge, while I was a dancer, in that club. There were specific, and somewhat odd, reasons, that this happened at all with me, so I need to devote a post entirely to that, independently of the type of description that I am providing now about the men that come into those places in general. How I got to that place, after dancing for so many years, in so many nightclubs, and, never doing that, despite the fact that, almost every man, I ever sat with, came on to me, and tried to get me to have sex with them, is a bit bizarre. A big part of why I finally decided to do that had alot to do with police pushing me in that direction. I know that's the opposite of how this usually goes with a woman who gets involved in that. But my life has NOT been very ordinary, in MANY ways! A friend of mine said to me, not long ago, that I have lived "a very interesting life". I chuckled at that, when she made the observation to me during a phone call, because that is all too true. Living through all these things that I have survived (so far, anyway!), has taken a real toll, on me, too. I, definitely, feel, 'a little the worse for wear', at this point, in my life. Some, of what has happened, certainly underscores the fact that, life can, truly, be stranger than fiction, at times. How I ended up being a prostitute, drives that point home, in a very definite way! How, could my knowing a police officer, ultimately lead to committing acts of prostitution (which, aside from one speeding ticket, I got, on the highway in Missouri, almost 40 years ago, is the only statutory crime that I have ever committed, in my life, unless jaywalking is included)? I was never arrested for or charged with prostitution, but, I came really close, to that happening, a couple of times. If someone had told me, when I was a child, some of these things, I would go through, during my life, I would not have believed them.

I am sure, that my assessment, of males, was skewed, by my years of interacting with them in the Go Go bar nightclub environment that I worked in; because the really solid, stand-up, guys would more than likely not even want to ever come into a place like that. It does seem, though, that there are far too few, of them, in this world, than these other kinds that I usually encounter in my life. But, they are out there. I have been blessed to have known a few of them, in my life. Not in my own personal, romantic, relationships, unfortunately. But, as acquaintances, friends, and some relatives. On the other hand, I have known a discouraging number of, lesser, types, of males, including among acquaintances, (former) friends, and, sadly, some relatives of mine. That has definitely done some serious damage to my view of males. I don't think it could have gone any other way, based on, all the negative data, poisoning my thoughts, and affecting my emotions, where men are concerned. I have always felt, a huge letdown, deep inside me, that there have not been more 'heroes' who are disciplined, willing to stay the course to rise above what these 'lesser mortals' choose, to wallow in, while on this earth. When I was growing up, I was not at all, the type of young lady that would have ever become an exotic dancer. I went to Sunday School. I didn't swear. I had no idea what the punch lines even meant when someone told the occasional dirty joke, around me. I was innocent, naive, sweet, decent, and I believed in the Disney's Happy Ending, for me. Eventually, though, my heart got broken so many times by these guys that were jerks and not heroes, that something in me quit holding out any hope, or holding up my standards. Including, for myself. I had wanted, and waited for, someone that was virtuous; that I simply saw no evidence of even existing on this planet, for me. By age 18,  I was damaged, sexually, by my half-first cousin. I felt broken, used, disrespected, and tainted. That affects a girl. Her self-esteem is shattered, as well as her hope, or belief, that any decent man would, ever, have her now. Even if, he actually, finally, appeared. I sublimated alot of, not only my repressed, and unexpressed, sexuality, as a dancer, but my hurt, my brokenness, my disappointment, and my rage, that I was placed onto a planet, that was too Fallen, too tainted, to seem capable of offering me what I had imagined, as the life, that I would live, while here. It becomes easy, to compromise, even when you never thought you would, when, what you had expected or hoped that life would be like simply seems to be either nonexistent, or impossible. Reasons to hold out, vanish like vapor, when the desire of your heart becomes a dead dream.

* I was around 54 years old in the following photos, which was close to a decade after I finally felt forced to retire from dancing, due to signs of aging, setting in, on my facial features, more than anywhere else on my body. I have gone through alot in my lifetime and it was starting to show. There is a wear and tear, that happens, due to stress, and grief, which, our faces often reflect. I was a dark-haired brunette (my natural hair color) when I was a dancer, but I dyed it blonde, later on, for about 7 years, or so, just to see whether 'Blondes have more fun', as the saying goes (and they don't, in my experience). I can't find any photos of me from my dancer days. I never had very many of them from that period of my life, anyway. However, I included these photos, with this post, because, even though, a decade had passed, since I danced on stage as Stevie, they show something, that you can still see, from my years of becoming and being Stevie, my, dancer, alter ego. It is said, that, "A picture is worth a thousand words." The first 2 photos show me being my Deborah self: Friendly, sincere, sweet, gentle, caring, naive; and broken in ways, because of leading with the heart in a world which will often victimize us for doing that. The latter 2 photos, are of me, during the very same time frame that the first 2 photos were taken, but are summoning my Stevie side, to the forefront, of me, just to let that feisty side out to outwardly show her strength. After so many years of living my life as Stevie she became a big part of me instead of just being my alter ego during my dancer job. I didn't want to lose that part of me, that I developed and drew from, because I needed and admired so many aspects of my Stevie side. You can clearly see a real difference, between these two sides of me, in the photos. My Stevie side is sure of herself, sexy, street smart; with a strong, take no shit, and 'take no prisoners', mentality, accompanied by the 'Don't even THINK about messing with me', dismissive, look. My Deborah side has the heart of gold, that people break. 

These photos clearly reveal the gist of what I have been describing, in my posts, as being the differences, between, who I had always been, as Deborah, and, what I developed into, as my dancer alter ego, Stevie. People sometimes take Deborah's gentle, caring, way as weakness, never comprehending how much strength it truly takes, especially after I could have so easily grown cold and cruel to others, after all the awful ways that others have treated me, in my life, starting, with my own family, while I was growing up. If I allow it, my Stevie side is wonderfully quick to step in, even now, and tell people what they can do with their disrespect toward me! I am so glad that Stevie will always be a big part of me, now. God knows, Deborah has needed a strong, protective, advocate, to stand up for me, for my entire life. Except for Dick McGinnis, my boss at the Backdoor Lounge, I have never really had anyone do that for me very often, in my life. So, it means alot, to me, when they do. Except for those, rare, individuals, which have done that, on my behalf, my Stevie self became the one who always does it for me! There's a lesson, in that, for all of us, I think: We should cultivate that part of ourselves which will take a protective stand, speaking up for our own best interests and not allowing people to disrespect us, disregard us, or destroy us! [Note: I did not actually have dark facial hair, although it looks as though I did, in the 2 Stevie-side-of-me photos. I took all these pictures of myself, using an old flip phone style cell phone; all of them at about the same time in my life. But the darkness, of that one room, caused my face to appear like that, though you can see, from the Deborah-side-of-me photos (the first 2 photos of the 4) that I'm actually not a Bearded Lady! I think my makeup foundation color, and the dark shadows in that room, were causing that appearance.]






** emotional cripple - A person who has been rendered indecisive, alienated, uncaring, confused, or helpless in conjunction with experiencing debilitating emotions, such as worry, fear, panic, despair, etc. 

*** For more background on this, reference my previous blog posts: 

My Father: Almost Always In The Home But Almost Always Absent From My Life https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/06/my-father-almost-always-in-home-but.html
Nothing Happens In A Vacuum: Why I Dropped Out Of College And Got Married https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/05/nothing-happens-in-vacuum-why-i-dropped_29.html
My First Marriage: I Grew To Like Him As My Cousin But Not Really As My Husband https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/06/my-first-marriage-i-grew-to-like-him-as.html.] 

**** manspread - the act or practice, by a man, of sitting with their legs spread wide apart (as in a public seating area).