Getting Tired of His Ass

Ok, no, I'm not talking about the handyman...He actually called this morning, and then came over to replace the flooring that was rotted, and installed the new water heater.

What I'm getting tired of, is trying to be graceful towards the ex-husband, who is still dangling the money he owes me, like a carrot, right in front of my eyes. I really did think we could remain "friendly", but he's making it impossible.

I am still driving the purple passion, because HE insisted. I wanted to give the car back, many times, and he said no, for me to continue using it, because it gets great mileage. How did I fall for that trick again?

Sure, it is true...with a full tank, I can go one month. In my Mazda? Maybe 2 weeks...it's a guzzler. Plus, he was supposed to get the heater fixed, and never did. That was two years ago. I know, I know...My car, my decision. I have no excuse now (before, it was I would never hear the end of it, for going to a mechanic without consulting el in-house mecanico ---aka him). It's either getting ripped off at a garage, or getting el diablo more involved in my life. I think it's time I get robbed by a stranger.

Anyhoo, there was another story here, but I've digressed a bit in the last paragraph...He took the purple passion, and I took his Toyota (we made the "exchange" at Commerce Bank, where I was running an errand). He told me if I turned off the engine in his other car, I might not be able to start the car up again.

This just had to coincide with my need to meet up with Frank, the handyman, so we could get plywood from Worm Depot (name changed). I took my chances with the car. And I failed! Uh-oh...I called H up, and asked what would happen if his car wouldn't start. Instead of giving me instructions, he proceeds with the "mother f*cker" this, "f*cking b*tch", "ugly lazy head" that, and the ever so endearing terms he calls me. Then he proceeds to tell me what I'm supposed to do, but he keeps screaming on the cell, so it's hard to follow...

Luckily for me (Frank had no idea this was happening; he had come separately in his truck), a young couple parks right next to me, as I'm holding a piece of wire that somehow, I'm supposed to start the battery up with, trying to listen to the directions as he's practically crying now..., and the girl tells me the guy, who's with her, is a mechanic and will take a look at the car for me.

Ah...thank goodness for these small coincidences...and for the kindness of strangers. The guy starts up the car in like a second, and then I go in my merry way, hanging up on him, when he tries to call again for a bit more yelling.

After el diablo returns from Newark, with the purple passion, he calls me up to tell me he's in my driveway. I pretend to be on my way out (kind of a "just waiting for you to return so I can finish my errands" type of deal), because he wants to say hello to Sushi, then he wants to use the bathroom...He wants to go inside, that's what he wants...I tell him to go home. He's got a bathroom there (two very nice ones, even...). The last mental picture I have of that scene, is him with his arms up, and starting to curse. I put my foot on the gas, and didn't look back.