A tale of one crazy-maker in the bunch

I dated a man back about a decade ago, shortly after my husband and I split and moved to separate states, who turned out to be a bad dude. Not the worst of the worst, but badly fucked up just the same. He was 10 years my senior, making him 32 when we first met at a (my very first) swinger party. I mentioned him in at least one of my videos but didn’t go into much detail, but tonight I’ll share a little more since I’m consumed by grappling with personal darkness and what leads us into whatever it is we become.

This man lied about nearly everything, making it to where what I care to believe was corroborated by others, including his family (dad, stepmom, and sisters), his kids and first wife, a couple of his friends, and eventually other details were made plain by the police who came to search my home for firearms this man had stolen.

Taking it from the beginning, one important event in his young life was that his mother died in his presence of a brain aneurism when he was about 4 years old. It took several hours before his father came home from work and found them, and that’s a long time for a little boy to be trapped in such a horribly scary situation with no comfort. Events of that magnitude can have a very strong and lasting impact on people’s psyches, and I personally believe that traumatic event altered him from then on.

His father remarried and had two more daughters with a woman who wasn’t too fond of my ex-boyfriend. By the time this guy was about 11 or so he had begun setting fires, including one inside his family’s house. He also admitted to me during our year-long relationship that he tortured cats for fun. These troubling behaviors led his family to turn him over to Boys Town to be raised from about age 11 or 12 until graduation, and from there he joined the military. And while in Boystown he became involved with an older female employee who became his first wife. He also stated that evaluations performed on him at Boys Town indicated he had a psychopathic character (psychopathy being a topic I’ve researched a good deal since).

Now, for those who don’t know, look into the Franklin Credit Union scandal and its links with Boys Town during the 1980s. Lots of allegations leading back to higher-ups in the Republican Party, not much evidence though and plenty of questions of credibility, but still Lawrence King Jr. turned out to be a piece of work. Anyway, that would’ve been occurring around the same time as this guy I knew was in, though he never mentioned anything about any such activities. But he didn’t talk much at all about his time at Boys Town, though at least a few members of the staff were engaging in sexual activities with the boys warded to this organization (hence how this guy met who was to become his first wife).

While in the military and soon after marrying this guy admitted to engaging in sexual activities with lots of women met at bars near the base, even going so far as to be preoccupied with an orgy the night his first child was being born (a story both he and his first wife confirmed as true). He and his wife went on to have a set of twins before divorcing. She claimed he racked up significant debt on her credit cards before leaving her.

For the record, his first wife being the mother of his children meant she was around at his family’s holiday gatherings, so I met her early on in dating him and later became more closely affiliated with her and his kids because she’d need someone to pick them up from school occasionally and deliver them to her workplace. Since my ex-boyfriend rarely answered her calls (and come to find out cut off child support payments for several months while we were dating), I agreed to transfer their kids and eventually became friendly with his first wife. She and I went out drinking on a couple occasions once he and I split, and she never tired of talking about this man since she for some ungodly reason still loved him. So I heard quite a bit from her, but he told me plenty himself that jibed with her accounts.

I keep referring to his first wife because there turned out to be a second wife that he didn’t mention until halfway into our time dating. I never met her because she basically didn’t wish to be found by him or anyone affiliated with him. The word is that she was pregnant when they split, but she didn’t list a father on that child’s birth certificate. He told me of how while they were together at one point he enlisted the help of her parents by convincing them his second wife was suicidal so that they’d help him in committing her for 7 days of psychiatric evaluation. They went along with this, only to learn this was some horrible scheme to torture their daughter, and that was pretty much the end of that family’s contact with this man.

And then after that there was an ex-girlfriend of his who he’d managed to stay on decent terms with. She seemed like a sweet, naive person on the few occasions she and I chatted on the phone. Then one day my cat wound up dead in a most unfortunate manner while alone in the apartment with this man, and when I arrived home she was a horrible mess on the kitchen floor. I rushed her to the emergency vet clinic where she was pronounced dead on arrival. There were a lot of odd incidents throughout our time dating, but this one took the cake and reminded me of a story he had told me about how he “accidentally” killed TWO of his ex-girlfriend’s cats over a 2-week period, so this recollection prompted me to call her. He had claimed one death occurred because he was walking swiftly through the hall with the cat in his arm when he tripped on the rug and fell into the wall, resulting in the cat’s bladder bursting. I don’t recall how the second cat died. But when he mentioned these stories, he seemed to find them rather funny. I obviously was pretty naive myself back then to have not ran screaming right then and there — that’s a given. Anyway, I spoke to his ex-girlfriend and she mentioned how her mother always had a feeling this guy had done that to her cats on purpose. When I told her about what had happened to my Gwen, we both came to the realization this was more than mere coincidence, and she cut off contact with him after that.

I, however, was stuck with the bastard for a few more months thanks to some blackmailing scheme he had concocted pertaining to my escorted clients. He had handled my security during the months when I assumed I could trust him and then abused that trust by collecting these men’s information for his own purposes. That’s where this situation turned into a nightmare.

It was discovered that a gun he had given me turned out to be stolen, as were a couple laptops and jewelry, most of it taken out of people’s luggage at the airport where he worked. Eventually his thievery caught up to him and was caught on surveillance camera, which led the police to searching my residency and hauling me downtown to look at the surveillance footage. The cops were dicks toward me, to be blunt, and I didn’t think they’d offer me protection from this asshole, so no, I did not help them by confirming his identity. Still surprises me that an airport would rely on such grainy, blurry equipment in post-9/11 times. Either way, he was not charged and luckily he had not stored his stolen goods in my apartment but rather at his father’s home (with his father’s knowledge, come to find out — his father felt inclined to clean up his grown son’s messes) or discarded them in the river by then.

Everything turned out to be a lie stacked on a lie stacked on a lie. From his college education to his stolen “gifts” to his sinister ways of messing with my head (like filling my truck’s fuel tank up once with the garden hose and playing all coy about it — cost me $450+ to have it drained) to leaving out so many important details that I should have been made aware of early on to finally knocking up another woman while he was in the process of blackmailing me. Our time together ended on the note of him putting my head and shoulder through a wall and me filing for a restraining order at his stepmother’s insistence. Around that time is when his family and former friends came forth to finally say that this guy is dangerous, as I by then was already aware of. His family was planning to move across the country in an effort to be free of him and all his bullshit. I moved into a friend’s basement until I could move elsewhere, and the guy moved on to live off the woman he had impregnated, whom he then married the next year.

And on and on the cycle goes with someone like that. Looking for a meal ticket, a free ride, a little fun and drama, someone to control and toy with for entertainment, someone to mooch off of while he plays the field. And people kept falling for it one way or another, again and again, including his latest wife, even after I confronted her to warn her and even after she witnessed him physically attack his first wife at his sister’s wedding (in front of everybody in attendance, including his children, so I was told).

You’d think a guy like that would have a criminal record, but no, he always got away with his deeds. I know in my case I was more worried about his retaliation than what the cops might do to me (and if cops want folks to cooperate in such matters, it helps to not treat us as thug criminals right out the gate). I was involved in an illegal venture myself, so getting police involved rarely seemed like a good idea. The guy was a big dumb ape but he was slick when it came to getting away with shit, and I didn’t care to take anymore chances with that loose cannon. Like his family, I picked up and moved. And, thankfully, a few months later he and his new wife relocated to Texas. Never heard from him again.

That ended when I was 23. Incredibly enough, that’s the short version of that story. Biggest pain in the ass. Life-changing in fact. That ordeal scared me off dating anyone seriously for years and impacted the way I looked at men from then on. As in I’d be more suspicious upfront and began conducting background checks sometimes on people I was interested in. True. Even did a look-up on the last man I began dating in 2011, six years on from that crazy shitstorm. A very bad relationship can have long-lasting impact, and there’s just no easy way around that. Never let another man move in with me since. Learned to ask a lot more questions upfront, much as that might come across as interrogating in some instances. That relationship made me think I was losing my mind for a minute there. That guy really does a number on people.

Feels like I’ve been over it a long time, but I don’t forget. When he met me I was at the top of my game in terms of feeling good about life and being happy with where I was at. Really was in a great space mentally and emotionally, back in school, enjoying my job for the most part, trying out ghetto living for low-rent kicks and giggles, making a little money for the first time ever. And then in blew a hurricane who was good in the sack and seemed like fun to swing with as a couple — that’s all it started out as. I never invited the guy to live with me; I’d just come home and find little by little more of his shit at my place until one day I began charging him rent (free-loaders have never been my thing). A few months later I was up the creek without a paddle. Youthful stupidity and naivety deserves its share of the blame, but keep in mind that there are some smooth operators in this world. This guy comes across as all-American and perfectly decent and relatable with for those who like football and grilling out, and he’s comfortable at parties. My Grandma even said after meeting him: “He’s one of us.” Yeah. She never said that about anyone I brought home before or since. My Papa didn’t dislike him (initially), which said a lot too. He and my uncle chatted it up. Fooled us. Still out there fooling other people, I imagine. Especially swingers since he was popular in that scene.

I realize that people prefer we not dwell on bad past relationships, and I agree, but some shit is hard to shake. Romance going sour is one thing, but dealing with someone who doesn’t seem to possess a conscience is something else. It’s like being drawn into a game you didn’t even know you were playing, and by the time you realize it you’re trapped until he loses interest and moves on.

I threw a fit — my pride fucked with me the whole way through. There was no way I was going to go down without a fight, and he and I had some nasty ones. The cops got involved one time when he robbed my apartment in plain daylight with neighbors witnessing it and me fighting him, but the woman cop who showed up said it was a civil matter because I’d let him reside there (even though he wasn’t on the lease — she mentioned something about a squatter law?). Wouldn’t take down his parents’ address, refused to pursue the matter. So I got the message that this was something I’d have to handle on my own. I do believe my becoming a bitch spurred him on to less challenging conquests, so there’s another example when bulldoggedness came in handy. But he treats women like stepping stones, from one to the next. He’ll go when other opportunities open up. That’s just how he was. Opportunistic to the hilt.

Lots of lessons learned on that one. It’s amazing how much widespread damage one individual is capable of, but what can stop someone like that? We can turn them away, but they persistently move on and on and on. I distinctly remember at some point looking at him and feeling like a cat toy. Just being fucked with. After being pushed enough, I started pushing back, and we’d get to where the kids in the upstairs apartment would start crying (sad as that is). It was a bad deal, and after figuring out his colors, for months I still could not get the bastard off my back. Glad it was only months rather than years though. Women who stay with guys like that I cannot comprehend. We were approaching the point where I was about to not be concerned about being hauled off to jail. But he was a very big, strong guy so it could’ve gone a bunch of different ways.

Anyway, that’s one woman’s account of dating what turned out to be a psycho. Undoubtedly there are women out there who are every bit as bad and are up to all sorts of mind-fucking chicanery too. But I don’t date women.

Tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply