I could never blame a man, or woman, for wanting more sex. But to actively seek out married women, or men, is absolutely reprehensible. It takes a certain kind of scum to do that. And then to be so careless, or uncaring, as to give them an STD was beyond the pale.
I started to call Lenny and tell her how I felt about getting an STD from her, but why bother? Her pussy could rot off as far as I was concerned.
It was a few days later, that her brother came pounding on my door. I had just gotten back from getting shots for the STD. I let him in.
"You son of a bitch. You cheated on my sister and now she has one of those sex things. I ought to kill you." There was murder in his eyes and he scared the shit out of me.
"Whoa, tiger," I said backing away from him. "If you're talking about an STD, you have it backwards. Your sister cheated on me with at least one guy. She gave me the disease."
"That's a lie. She said you would say that. I'm going to kick your ass."
He started towards me and I started backing away again, but there was really no place to go.
"Well," I said as calmly as I could, "before you do that, there are a dozen or more witnesses who heard a man say that he fucked her at least six times and she didn't deny it. Then she told me that she 'did it for fun'. For fun Jimmy (that's his name). She cheated on me with a no-good son of a bitch 'for fun'. And Charlotte helped her. Helped her, hell. Encouraged her." He looked as if he had calmed down. Jimmy has had some problems in his life. He did time in prison for assault so I knew he wouldn't hesitate beating me to a pulp. "I know you have no reason to believe me and not your sister, but you know me. And you know that I'm not a liar; and I'm certainly not a cheater. The guy you need to talk to is Tyler Jones." I told him where Jones worked. "And if you have any influence over your sister, you will try to get her away from Charlotte. I tried for years, but she wouldn't listen to me."
He glared at me not wanting to believe me, but after a few seconds, turned and stalked out.
Four days later, I read in a newspaper which had been left on the bar, that a prospective car buyer was test driving a new car from a local dealership. He was accompanied by salesman Tyler Jones. The prospective buyer stopped the car claiming to have heard a noise. Both he and Jones got out of the car where he proceeded to beat Jones almost to death. He left Jones by the side of the road and returned the car to the dealership. The news report stated that Jones would most likely lose his testicles, but he probably would never have hemorrhoid problems because the tire iron which was found stuck up his ass would take care of that. The article never said it in those exact words, but the implication was certainly there. The newspaper quoted the police as saying 'Mr. Jones was a local Casanova known to have been responsible for several marriage breakups over the last couple of years'. Blood tests indicated that he had several different STDs among which were syphilis and gonorrhea.
'Way to go, Jimmy', and whoever gave Jones those diseases I thought while reading the article and laughing. I wondered how many of them Lenny had. The same newspaper reported that a trailer owned by a Miss Charlotte Williams was completely destroyed by fire. The trailer was uninsured and was a total loss.
One of these days, I'm going to have a serious chat with Jimmy about his anger managements issues... then I'll buy him a few drinks.
I had a thought about where Charlotte was going to live now and if Lenny was going to move in with her; then I realized I didn't care.
I expected to be interviewed by the police about Jones and I was, but nothing ever came of it. I got the impression that finding who beat him up was somewhere along the same priority as chasing down jaywalkers.
Time went on and I liked my new bar more and more. I also liked my new beard. At first I kept it a bit on the scraggly side, but decided to trim it. After I did that, I got lots of comments from my female customers. I also liked the fact that my divorce was finalized. Apparently, when Lenny got the papers, she signed them and sent them back. She didn't bother to show up in court the day it went in front of the judge.
My antibiotic shots had done the trick and I was declared disease free, but socializing never seemed to appear on my radar screen.
It was also time for my lease to expire, so I found an apartment closer to work. I hadn't replaced much of the furniture I tossed out, but I had bought a new bed. My new apartment was so small that the queen-sized bed took up most of the bedroom and carrying it up three flights of stairs was difficult. Fortunately, I had friends who helped me. One of them, Georgie Patterson and I had been friends for a long time. We grew up in the same neighborhood; as did Lenny, Charlotte, and several other friends. When I called and asked if he could help me move, he showed up with a friend of his. Bryce, was his name and, when Georgie introduced us, Bryce said.
"Andy Buckles? You're Andy Buckles?"
"I am."
"Holy shit. I know your wife."
"My ex-wife," I corrected him. "Have you fucked you, too?"
"Me? Hell, no. But I'm married to Charlotte's cousin and I've certainly heard your name bandied about."
He didn't like Charlotte very much and started bringing me up to date on the happenings around him. He told me that after Charlotte's trailer burned, she and Lenny rented a furnished one in the same trailer park.
He told me that the couple of times he had been in the company of Charlotte and Lenny together, that Lenny was erratic in her comments about me. When she was sober, I was a total asshole; but when she had a few drinks, there were lots of tears and thinking of ways to get me back. Charlotte kept telling her I didn't deserve her, but, and again, this was when she was drunk, Lenny defended me and admitted that it was all her fault.
Another tidbit he shared was that both Lenny and Charlotte blamed me for what happened to Jones.
I asked him if Jones still came around.
"Nah," he said. "I think he called Lenny a couple of times before he got his ass kicked, but she wasn't interested."
He also told me that Lenny was working as a server and gave me the name of the place. On my next night off I went there. I went in, looked around and saw her waiting tables. With my new beard, I figured she wouldn't recognize me. She moved from table to table as efficiently as she always had and openly joked with her customers. Twice I saw her smack roving hands away from her ass; something she had to do virtually all of her bar waitressing life.
I could also see and hear her joking with them as long as either she or they were talking, but the minute she turned away from them, the smile disappeared and a slight sadness took over her face. The smile returned the second she started chatting with another customer.
I had no idea why I was there watching her, so I left.
I was working night shift
when Lenny came in and she was with a man. She looked like she had lost a few pounds.
As far as I knew, she had no idea I worked there.
I took a piece of notepaper from under the bar and wrote a note. 'I don't know if you are aware, but the woman you are with cheated on her husband and gave him an STD. Proceed at your own risk'. I would occasionally step from behind the bar and walk to where I could see into the restaurant dining area.
Between their salad and entree, I saw that Lenny had excused herself to use the ladies' room. I folded up my note and walked to their table. "Excuse me, sir," I said. "But someone gave me this to give you." I handed him the note.
By the time I got back to the bar, he was walking out of the restaurant. I walked back to where I could see their table. I watched as Lenny sat down and picked up the note her date had put where she could see it. She appeared to read it, wadded it up, stood and walked out. She walked within 10 feet of me and didn't recognize me, but I could see the tears in her eyes.
Their server was standing by their table holding their entrees not knowing what to do with them. I went over to her.
"They both left, but I know where you can send their bill."
Part of me enjoyed giving the note and seeing the results, but another part thought it was a cheap shot and something only an asshole would do. I didn't think I would ever do it again; once was enough.
The call came two days later. It was Lenny. "I know it was you."
"You know what was me?"
"You sent the note."
I lied. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"It has to be you."
"Goddamnit, what are you talking about?"
"Every time I get a new job, somebody calls and tells them I have STD's and they fire me. When I go out with a guy, someone tells him I'm a cheater and have STD's."
"What, exactly, does that have to do with me?"
"It's you. I know it's you. I know you hate me, but please, I'm begging you, please stop it. I need to work. I need a job. Please, Andy."
"Why do you think it's me? I have no contact with you so I have no idea where you work so you're barking up the wrong tree. It's probably Tyler Jones trying to get even with you for not fucking him anymore. Or are you? Are you still fucking him? He said you were the best he ever had, which leads me to believe that he hasn't had much because you were always just kind of mediocre as far as I was concerned. Since our divorce, I've found out what good pussy is like and it is nothing like yours."
"No, I'm not fucking him and you caused that, too." Was she saying that she would still be fucking him if he were able to?