Crazy Bitch

(This is a very personal blog, it talks about the emotions that I experienced both in the moments as well as in real time.  This blog is set to private for a reason, should someone be reading this, I’ve decided that maybe it’s not so private after all… just personal.  Edited with good ethical values in mind…)


Working your ass off can be hard on a person..  3 jobs, plus side work for what friends you have left, not spending the time and focus you want on the things that matter most to you, the things you enjoy.. the ones you love..

I’ve been working at a dead end Pizza Job for over 2 years…  but loving to hate it and hating to love it.  I have to say that I have made more money slingin’ pies and haulin’ ass around Downtown than with anything I’ve ever done.  The incredible component to pizza is that you make your own destiny, you strive to be the best and work at fine tuning your game…  combine speed, quality, accuracy, timing, tact, and good ole fashioned experience and combine it with the best tools of the trade, The Ole Dirty VDub, a cell phone, and infinite supply of ink pens with a clipboard, and a flashlight.  I’ve made some serious money risking life and limb out on the street, running game on the entry-level management…  running circles around some of these chumps… and had a great time doing it.

But working over 45 hours a week with a Saturday double shift every week proved to be too much for me after I met my girl. 

Before she came into my life, I thought I was together, I thought I had my shit going ON…  working at a pizza place and doing a side job during the day sometimes, I was making it, I was doing very well.  I never had the time to spend my riches, and never had much of a social life..  part of me was missing something in my life. 

I would work a double shift on Saturday just so that I could have a few days off during the week to get things done…  just do my own thing.  Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday off, close the rest of the week and double on Saturday… it worked out to be 45-50 hours a week.  I used to be completely worthless by Sunday Morning.  I would still have to come in and close that night too.

She hated my schedule, she hated all the work I was doing..  all the time I had to put into something else like that.  She had been in a relationship before me that was completely opposite from what I understood what she was used to.  She was coming from a place where she spent a lot of time with the guy she was dating, he didn’t ever work like I did, he didn’t have the mortgage payment for the house in the “Midwest” that his dead mother stuck him with, he didn’t have the car payment, he didn’t have the credit card bills, or the rent that was due.. 

Sure, he had responsibilities, I’m sure, and bills of his own, I’m sure…  but the bottom line is, he had the time and focus to spend on her.  He had something to give that I never did. 

Perhaps I never can…

But I sure as hell crashed and burned trying my heart out.

I realized that if I wanted to have a significant social life, I needed to be coherent on the weekends between going to work.  Doing a Friday Night Close at a pizza joint can wipe a guy out.  It’s sooooo much stress and drama, so many expectation and demands, time-tables and pre-meditated organization all happening on the fly.

Damn….  What a Rush.

To accomplish the seemingly impossible almost nightly..  It can really make you feel good about yourself…  but at the end of the day, you are shot out and dead tired, with no energy left, but your adrenaline rush comedown just won’t let you sleep. 

Not until you have had a few beers and smoked a blunt and pass out sitting up with a bottle still in your hand…


I feel like such a loser…

If I want to be myself, if I want to feel like a human being… I’m not going to be able to close on a Friday night till 3 am and get back up work the entire length of the day from 10am till 3 am all over again and then be able to be worth a shit… especially when nearly every night of the week I drive 30 miles to College-ville to spend the night with my baby…  and she’s not a morning person… NOT A MORNING PERSON AT ALL.  So we would sleep until at least noon every morning in her big comfy, girly bed… life was good..  I hadn’t felt so comfortable around another human being in my entire life

But then…

I started seeing things that were not right…

Not ok with me…

She would turn things around on me all the time, if I were to have an issue about something she was doing, she would bring up something out of the past and attempt to compare the two situations to one another and cite how IT IS WRONG FOR ME TO FEEL THAT WAY because of something that we had already worked out….  but obviously we hadn’t, because shes talking about it … again…


Look at what just happened…

I got disgusted and frustrated with the situation and lost site of what my point to talking to her about whatever it was I had to say in the first place.

I expect things like that to happen every now and again.. 

But I just have to face some facts…
She’s young.
She’s naive.

shes stubborn – the most stubborn woman, short of my Mother, that I’ve ever encountered in my life.

She’s inconsistent.

She’s still got a lot of growing up to do… a lot of the same growing up that I had such a hard time doing myself.

So even though I can come up with witty banter and intellectual analysis of her undeveloped processes, the fact remains, I am but a lonely guy, with no means of personal interaction with others because I don’t really have any friends left since I’ve firmly planted my head up this girls ass.

Ironic isn’t it… 

It can be so comfortable at first… feel so good… and then be so shitty, eventually.

After we talked for months about me doing something other than pizza…  I answered an ad in a newspaper for “Cable Technician”.  Long story short… I got the job and thus piled ANOTHER FULL TIME JOB on top of everything else I had going on.  The Cable Installer position is a sub-contracting job.  You have to have your own work vehicle (truck, van, SUV, whatever – so you can carry ladders and giant spools of wire) and your own tools (about $600-$800 worth) and insurances (about an extra $150 to $200 a month all together.


I’m already a broke ass muffucker.

That’s going to put me in the hole even deeper if I do all that…  but I could be making twice as much money and a more “social friendly” schedule…  and that’s ultimately what I want… it’s what WE wanted.

So working all these hours, being assed out after coming home from a long LONG fucking day, that goes from 6am till 2 or 3am 6 days a week…  to her pissing and moaning about how “she misses her boyfriend” and “all we ever talk about is work”.

For fuck sake man.  I know it’s not easy on her… but give me a little fucking credit?!!  I can’t begin to tell you how many times I felt like I was being flat out disrespected.  I mean I obviously had a long ass crazy day, hell, a crazy WEEK, and I come home to her in my bed bitching about how she is always waiting around on me.

Get a fucking job.  Get a fucking life.  Get the fuck OUT.

That’s what I WANT to say, but I realize that I’m not myself, and that’s out of character for me to say that.

The shit finally hit the fan…..  I could tell the day was coming…  I think she could to.

It was actually on a Tuesday, 06/06/2006 to be exact.  We got invited to come hang out with the girl who introduced us in the first place, there was a concert up in bumfuck Timbuktu, about 45 minutes away from my house usually.  I could have made it in 30 with the VDub, but she was in the shop still from the drunken doofus that pulled out in front of me on Cinco De Mayo (05/05/2006), so… we were taking her car…. I was driving.

We were doing it up ghetto style… for anyone who knows me very well… they know there is really no other way.  That’s just how I roll…  Orange juice bottles half chugged so that we can fit the Vodka in there.  Hauling ass, while she is SLAMMING this drink…  even my eyes watered from the few shots I took.

Since I never did anything fun with her, and we had been formally invited…  and since I don’t do the Pizza Man thing on Tuesday night as of right now, I thought, fuck it, get some caffeine in me, and I’ll go do whatever she wants to tonight…  I want to make her happy tonight….

That was my only goal in life that night…

Once we got there, EXTREMELY late…  because that’s how both of us seem to be.. naturally.  But we saw our friend and got to enjoy the last few songs by the band she wanted to see.  Our friend and I hadn’t talked in months…  she was upset that I wasn’t around like I used to be… she made it a point to remind me that we used to be better friends in her drunken stupor….  and she bought me a shot… since I missed her 21st Birthday and hadn’t drank with her since she was legal..  I explained to her that I have been working my ass off.. and what little time I did have left, I spent it with my girlfriend.

All of it.

We continued to talk for about 5 or 10 minutes, my girl had walked out with someone else just before we made out stop at the bar and began talking, when I made my way back to her, I, of course, found her talking to a guy from the band.

Now…. I know that I sound like I’m accusing… or seem judgmental… but…  when I talk to girls, she freaks out on me.  She claims to be ok if I am just “talking” like she does to guys… and what she gets mad about is when she thinks I’m “flirting” with them… I can be flirtatious without any intentions, perhaps its just my personality or perhaps it’s because I don’t mean anything by it…. so it doesn’t bear much meaning to me…  yet she’s not like that, she is much more passive when it comes to making a romantic connection.  The guys that are talking to her are obviously interested in her, and they are not shy about letting her know.  She is smart enough to be able to tell that another guy is into her, and shes self aware enough for her to be able to know whether or not she is enjoying the attention.  And she is also experienced enough to know that something could come of it, should she give it the chance.

She knows.

But yet she is so difficult and elusive to the issue.

She just can’t answer me outright, shes got to cloud the way, shes hellbent on mudding up the waters with her “mostly”  and “kind of” and “pretty much” and so on.  I feel as though its so that I remain totally confused, because fuck me if i can’t sit there and come to the same unclear and baffling conclusions as she makes me come to when I try to talk to her about the kind of stuff shes SO adamant about talking to me about.  Or BITCHING to me about…  if you want to put it in layman’s terms..

… But lets get back to the story.

When I approached her talking to the band guy, the conversation was conveniently over with, suddenly.  As you will find is the case when you are Mr Boyfriend and you walk up on a convo another guy is having with your girl….  I had bought a bouquet of flowers from the flower lady…  they were beautiful, perfect for the situation…  I was thinking…

How pimp am I?

I’m taking my girl out to the club, buying her liquor, buying her flowers…  telling her how awesome she is all night…

I gave her the flowers…  but it felt odd due to the fact that she was all talking to the other guy.  I knew there was some kind of history of attraction between her and some of the band guys.  But I still wanted to have a good night, so I didn’t make it an issue….


She began to tirade me with anger and resentment for making her wait so long outside while I was talking to OUR friend.

The person who introduced us!!!

Then she got sooooo mad because she wasn’t satisfied that I didn’t tell OUR friend off for telling my girl about certain things that she didn’t want to know, or didn’t want to hear.

I’m being vague for a reason.

Because the whole fucking thing is just fucking stupid to begin with.

It’s about me being “sexual” with other people and how other people want to be “sexual” with me.


Dude, try being a guy for 10 minutes and have a hot girlfriend.  It’s like a badge of honor to have another guy(s) say Damn dude, I’d fuck her blind!  shes hot!

She has all these guy friends… but she has no idea how guys are.

Sad…. sad, sad, sad.

At some point I have to just say….

She’s just too immature for me.

At any rate, she continued her ranting and outright shittiness to me,

calling me names, telling ME how I FEEL????

Who the FUCK are YOU to tell ME how I feel?

I finally had to get out of the car and walk away for a little while…  I realized she was patronizing me partially because she was drunk, but partially because she had all this resentment that she thought I was taking sides in the “non-argument” that she was having with Our friend that I was talking to, wishing a happy birthday.

I was taking no sides, and in doing that, I was on the wrong side.

Fine. Ok, but why should I have to bitch someone out just because she wants me to?  I had no motivation, nor did i see a reason for me getting shitty on her, regardless of how many times I heard the story.

After I walked back to the car in complete disappointment and disgust with her and the situation…

I was trying to have a good night, I wanted it to be special, I don’t get to go out very often and have a good time, I don’t get to take her out very often because I’m in the middle of working my ass off until I can get stable with my new Cable Tech Career.

I’m just trying to be a good man.

But this is what I get.

I get a tirade of bullshit and anger and rage over something so petty and ridiculous as spoken words from someone else and me not “being strong enough in my conviction to stand up for what I believe in.”

Give me a fucking break.

That’s like saying “Fred said your nose was big!  Aren’t you gunna go yell at it for it?”

Christ man…  who gives a fuck?  I mean really… who fucking cares what this one person thought?  And even if it WERE upsetting, I really don’t even know how to approach the situation.  Just start bitching at someone who is my friend that someone else is telling me about how they are talking shit about me?


I’m in fucking high school all over again.

I’m way to old for this shit.  I really don’t need this in my life.

When I got back from taking my moment to myself, and we got in the car together, she would NOT STOP RAGGING ON ME.

It was a loooooooooooooooong ass trip home and I was already to the point I had to walk away from her before I lost my temper….

I admit it… I drove just a few short minutes down the street with her in my FUCKING EAR


I begged her… please…..  just stop.




I stopped the car, jumped out, and started walking.

Fuck that bitch.

Fucking cunt can’t stop her fucking bullshit for long enough for me to get back to my house, then fuck it…  I’ll walk.

She jumps out after me…..  which I was reeeeeaally hoping she wouldn’t do.
Because I was so close to snatching her by the throat and telling her to leave me the FUCK alone before I send her to HELL.

I hate it when I get like that, and it takes a “special person” to do it to me.

She jumps out and runs after me, CHUCKS her car keys at me and they fly off into the woods.  Then she pushes me in the back as I continued to walk away.  I keep walking.  She jumps in my face and pushes me again.

I got REAL pissed off.

I yelled into her shitty facial expression she was wearing “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME”….

and continued to walk away, when she pushed me from behind AGAIN.

I stopped with a quickness this time and I snatched the bitches arms and gave her enough of a shove for her to fall over the guardrail into the soft grass on the other side of the sidewalk.

And of course…  someone driving by… stops and starts listening to whats going on with us.  I knew that when she got up, she was going to make a huge scene in front of this Van that just stopped in the middle of the road to spy on us….

I knew 3 things right away.

# 1 – someone was going to say I was abusing her

# 2 – someone in the Van was on their cell phone, calling the cops

# 3 – If I didn’t find her fucking keys and jump back in her car and get the FUCK out of there, I was going to end up with a felony charge of some kind.

I started fishing around for her keys and told her to SHUT THE FUCK UP while I looked so that I didn’t go to jail.


Everything… all I’ve tried to do with my life… with myself… it was now all in jeopardy.

All because I let this girl get to me when I tried my very fucking best not to…

Crazy Bitch.

If I didn’t haul ass and find these keys, she was going to be my ruin…

I finally found the keys about 1 or 2 feet from where she swore “I didn’t throw them over there! They are over here somewhere!”

Stupid Drunk Cunt Bitch

I was so mad….  I don’t know if I’ve ever been more upset with another human being in my life.

I grabbed the keys and took off running to the car…

While her out of shape ass slowly walked across US 19 and got into the car I pulled up next to her.

We got about 2000 ft down the road to the stop light ahead…  when we saw a cop.

He Hauled ASS up US 19 right past where all that shit just went down..

I did it. I got away.


Even though I got away, I realized that if I would have listened to her, and I would have kept looking in another place for the keys that she threw at me into the woods…

I’d be getting cuffed and tossed into the back of a cruiser and hauled off to jail.  It would be my undoing…  all because I don’t know how to handle my Pyscho ass Girlfriend.

When we got back to my house, I told her that I didn’t want to be with her anymore, that I can’t have ANYONE standing in my way or threatening my lifestyle to that extent.

I can’t believe someone that loves me would really do that to me.

I just can’t believe it.

I spent a month of my life now trying to make sense out of the situation..  trying to see how it all happened and why…  she even had the AUDACITY to say that I wasn’t taking responsibility for my part in what happened that night.

Bitch FUCK YOU, I tried to escape the situation and you were fuckin’ hellbent on making sure I lost my cool, making sure you pissed me off REAL good.

What the fuck man..  why do I continue to torture myself like this? Why do i do it?

I’m done… I’m so fucking done.

There is so much STUPID PETTY BULLSHIT that I just don’t have time for in my life.


Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.