I Was An Arrogant Son Of A Bitch

I don't know why, but all of my stories, and even my name disappeared. My name is back, but the stories are still gone. Foolishly, I never saw a need to keep copies so I thought they were gone forever until a good friend told me she had copies of them. I am considering re-posting selected ones, and leaving on the heap of bad literature, others. I deeply and sincerely appreciate those who, out of concern, sought to find out what happened to me. To those who thought they were lucky and I was gone forever, too bad; I'm back.

I was an arrogant son of a bitch

... and just knew that my shit didn't stink.

I was five when my parents divorced, and seven when my mother re-married. Her new husband's name was Tony. She and Tony had only been married a few months when I started calling him dad. Neither he nor my mother told me too, or even suggested it; it just seemed natural.

As I grew, Tony never missed any of my activities. Baseball games, archery tournaments, band concerts; he was at them all, but so was Rick.

Rick is my biological father, and I call him dad as well. I never seemed to be confused by having two dads. After all, I had two moms. Tina was my step-mother. Dad (Rick) married her three years after divorcing my biological mom (Alicia).

Confused? I never was. It was natural for me and I had no trouble with it. All four of them did their best to raise me to be a good, solid, upstanding citizen, but even after all their hard work, I grew up to be Jacob Sweeney, a greedy, selfish, tyrannical asshole whose wife divorced him and took their two children with her.

I wasn't always like that. I was a sophomore in high school when I decided I was different. I was friends with a girl and wanted to be closer to her. Her name was Clarise Cummings, but everyone called her CC. She was in Drama class, so I enrolled to be close to her. The teacher wanted to do the play A Midsummers Night Dream by William Shakespeare, and she needed guys. CC smiled at me, touched my arm, and asked me to audition. I felt the heat from her hand on my arm and said I would. Of course, I would have done what she asked even had it been to go over the falls in a barrel.

So I read for the teacher. Then she asked me to read again. The third time she asked me to read was with a different girl, not CC. The two of us read a scene with the two main characters, Oberon and Titania. The teacher liked us together and we were cast. She and I rehearsed together a lot and within a few days, CC was forgotten and I had a new love interest; both on the stage and off.

CC had moved on as well. I heard she was dating a guy named Jimmy Smothers, one of the school's "bad boys". That was a bit of a surprise because CC was known to be "little Miss Girl Next Door" who never broke any rules and always made straight "A's".

That first play led to my being the lead in three other plays in high school, and three other leading ladies. I learned that being a pretty decent actor and relatively good looking were good things and I took full advantage of them. It was shortly after my 17

th

birthday in my senior year that I was cast as the lead in the play, Oklahoma.

I hadn't sung much in my life, but I was just arrogant enough to think I could sing well. At auditions I did exactly that and impressed the casting committee. Consequently, I got the lead.

I was one cocky son of a bitch and just knew that my shit didn't stink.

High School ended and college began. By then, I knew I was going to be a star both on stage and in the movies, and my first year bore that out. As a freshman I was in four plays, two as the leading man. As a sophomore it was the same. My cockiness became arrogance and people started staying away from me.

As a junior I was cast in plays, but never as the lead and my attitude stunk. I figured it was their loss, the fools, and they would regret it. Senior year was pretty much the same. Lots of plays, but no leads.

I was told by almost everyone I knew that my attitude was my problem. "Fuck them," I thought. "They'll regret ignoring my talent and me."

There were two principal girls I dated during those college years. Neither was in any of my classes nor were their friends, so they never experienced the full brunt of my arrogance. All I wanted to do was fuck them, and all they wanted was to be fucked, so it worked out for the three of us.

Graduation came and I was gone. The bright lights of Hollywood called my name and I answered. I knew fame and fortune were waiting for me and I didn't want them to suffer any longer.

In three months I was broke. Busted. I called all four of my parents and asked for help. They, of course, provided it, and I continued haunting agents' offices. In six months, I was looking for a job. Not many industries were clamoring for an employee with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Theatre. Restaurants, carwashes, fast food places, and call centers all were full of people like me.

By the time I was ready to quit and go home, I was sleeping in my car, and never wanted to see another script or stage. Again, my parents came through and sent me enough money for gas to get home. The first few weeks, I had my tail between my legs, and all four parents applauded my attempt in Hollywood, and helped me get my feet on the ground. My biological dad, Rick, got me a job working with him at the same oil refinery. The pay was good and I enjoyed the work. My step-dad, Tony, worked at one of the other two refineries in town. He told me I could work there if I decided to change jobs.

I hadn't been home long when the acting bug reared its ugly head again. We have two community theatres in town and I auditioned for and got a part in one, and it was all over. The monster returned....almost. After two shows at one theatre, I was beginning to see the same reaction to me that I saw in college and decided to back off, just a bit.

Things got better and I developed a circle of friends. One of those friends was CC from high school.

It didn't take long before we were dating and shortly after that, fucking. CC was a dream in bed and left nothing on the table, or the mattress, if you prefer. If we could imagine it, she was willing to try it. Two years after we renewed our friendship, we were married.

The work at the plant was good, CC's job as Assistant Manager of a large uniform cleaning facility was also good and we were doing quite well. We both enjoyed acting in the two community theatres in town as well as our local University whenever they had roles for the public.

CC started telling me that I was becoming arrogant and turning people off and that I should watch myself. I should have listened, but I didn't.

We were married and had two children, Audrey and Steve. I hadn't gotten any better about my ego and attitude; in fact, I was worse and I could tell CC was losing her patience with me. We had no friends because they didn't like to hear my constant bragging about myself and my theatrical exploits even though they were only in college and on our community theatre stages.

It finally came to a head during rehearsals for The King and I. I didn't like the way the director had blocked a scene and I started complaining about it. She patiently explained her reasoning, but I kept insisting that she do it my way. We yelled at each other until, finally, I walked off the stage and out of the show.

When I got home and told CC how horrible the director was for not listening to me, she stopped me and told me to sit down.

"I can't take it anymore, Jake. I'm tired of your attitude and arrogance. At first it was just the theatre, but over time it has moved here; to our home. You're never satisfied with anything and nothing is ever your fault. You don't take responsibility for a damned thing that goes wrong. It's always someone else's fault. Mostly mine.

"And don't look at me like this is all new to you. We've had this discussion hundreds of times and you keep saying you'll change, and I keep hoping you will. Well, you haven't and I can't take it anymore.

"The kids and I dread you coming home. Look around. Where are your children? They're in their rooms. Would you like to know why? They hate it when you come home. You never have a good word for anybody or anything. They're just kids and they don't want to be around you." There was a long pause. "I think we should separate. I think you should move out and take a good, hard look at yourself."

She turned and went to the kitchen. I sat there stunned for several minutes before following her. She heard me coming and turned to me.

"Don't even try, Jake. Don't try to talk me out of it. I almost did this three weeks ago at your mother's house. Remember that? You embarrassed me by telling everybody how bad a housekeeper I was. Have you any idea how humiliated I was? No. You haven't. And you wouldn't because you have no feeling for anyone but yourself. No one. And you failed to mention that you never lift a finger to help me here. When was the last time you washed a dish? Or dusted? Or did the laundry? Do you remember? No you don't because you never did any of those things. So go. Leave."

She hurried out of the kitchen and I followed her. She went into Audrey's room. She was standing there looking down at our children playing a game of War with cards. How appropriate, I thought. War.

The kids looked up at me and continued playing their card game. I tried to remember the last time they were excited to see me, and I couldn't. I had come into the room to try to talk CC out of a separation, but when I saw the kid's reactions to me, I knew she was right.

I backed out of the room, closed the door, got two suitcases and started packing. She never came out of Audrey's room in the two hours it took me to gather my clothes and other personal stuff and leave.

The first week I stayed in a motel and didn't try to call her.

The second week I moved into a one bedroom apartment and called her twice. Neither conversation went anywhere. During the last conversation, I asked if I could stop by and see the kids.

"Sure. Anytime you want. Just call first to see if we're going to be home," she said.

The third week I called, and stopped by. She ignored me and so did the kids. I stayed five minutes.

That went on for two months and none of the three acted like they wanted to see me when I went in the house. I was beginning to understand what I had done to my family.

I had talked to my biological mother first, then my step-mother, and received the same advice from both. "If you want to save your marriage, get some professional help."

I took their advice and scheduled some counselling sessions to start immediately.

After the fourth month, and eleven sessions, I was beginning to understand myself, and realized that CC was right; my selfishness was probably my biggest fault, and I had a lot of work to do to fix me. I tried to explain to CC what I was doing. She encouraged me to continue counselling, but she wasn't interested in going to any of the sessions with me or talking to the counselor without me. "It's too late, Jake. I can't do it anymore. I've thought about us getting back together, but honestly, I don't think you can change enough for me to want to do that."

I tried to convince her that I had I had changed and was continuing to change, but that didn't cut any ice with her. Her mind was made up, and strangely, I didn't hate her for it. All I could do was to live differently and try to prove her wrong, and then she'd come begging me to take her back.

After I had that thought, I realized that the sessions had changed me, but not enough. Selfishness and ego was still part of me in that I just assumed she'd beg me to come back to her when I was finished with counselling.

I scheduled more sessions.

I hadn't stopped seeing the kids, but they still wanted nothing to do with me even though I stopped by more often. They didn't even want to go out for pizza with me.

Exactly six months to the day after I moved out of the house, I was served divorce papers at work. Until then, my paycheck had gone into our joint bank account and I used my credit card to pay my monthly bills and living expenses, keeping a few dollars for "mad money" exactly as I had done during the years CC and I were married.

A letter came with the papers. In it CC's attorney explained that she expected at least half of my paycheck to continue going into our account and henceforth, I was not to use any of the credit cards. I was further notified that I was to continue paying the mortgage and the credit card bills, and that she had transferred half of our modest stock portfolio into her name. She said that she needed all of it in order to provide the children with the lifestyle they had become accustomed to.

It didn't take my calculator and me long to figure out that after giving her half my pay, then paying the mortgage and other bills, I would end up with very little to live on.

I knew exactly how much it took to run that household and I knew that she was raking me over the coals. I recognized that I had done wrong, but there was no need to screw me like she was trying to do.

My company owned some oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico and I asked my boss if I could transfer to one of them. I knew that if my plan worked, it would be a long time before I saw my children again, but at least I wouldn't be eating beans and rice five days a week and living in a rented mobile home. I also figured they had no use for me anyway, and wouldn't miss me, so I decided to give my plan a try.

I was able to transfer my employment to one of our facilities in another state. Then I secured a position on one of the off shore rigs. Before I started on the rig, I flew to The Cayman islands and opened a bank account and transferred my half of our investment portfolio there. I finished by arranging to have sent to CC enough money, according to my figures, to provide more than adequate support for her and our kids, yet leaving me with enough money to live on; not that I needed much.

Then I headed for the Gulf of Mexico and one of our drilling rigs. I spent three weeks on the rig and a week ashore. On the rig I had a bed and three very good meals a day; four if I got hungry. On my week ashore I either went to counselling sessions or to the Cayman Islands for....recreation.

To CC's credit, she never kept the kids from their grandparents and I learned through them that the kids still had no use for me, but they loved their grandparents. I rarely saw them because I couldn't see any advantage to forcing them to see me an hour a week, so I decided to cut my losses and not even make an effort to change their minds. I never failed to send birthday or other gifts as appropriate or try to communicate via texts and email, but none of my efforts were very successful. They didn't hate me, but they weren't knocking down walls trying to get to me, either.

I did continue my sessions. I figured the more I knew about me, the better armed I would be to at least try to win back the affection of my children at the appropriate time.

We had a court hearing scheduled. I had submitted through my attorney, a detailed list of all household expenses, including CC's hair appointments and her manicures and pedicures. I listed her income and mine and showed that I was contributing more than enough for her and the kids to live comfortably without sending me to the poor house. The Judge asked her to review the list and confirm or reject it, and if rejected, show proof of any additional costs to the household.

CC agreed with my figures and the judge ruled that I didn't have to pay any more than I had been paying and he granted the divorce. I could have returned to my home state, but was having fun working on the rig, and taking my time off in The Caymans when I wasn't in counselling.

The Caymans are loaded with beautiful, bikini clad ladies looking for pleasure in all the right places. I was fortunate to learn some of those places and visited them regularly.

We had been divorced about a year when I heard that she was dating someone. Two months later he moved in with her. The next time after he moved in that my mother and Tony spent time with the kids, they were told by the kids that their "new daddy" didn't want them to see their old grandparents anymore because they were related to their "old daddy". The only grandparents they were allowed to see were his and CC's parents.

At that point, he and CC weren't married, but he was acting like their step-father.

I thought back to when I was growing up and remembered how Tony was and was thankful I had him. My biological parents and their spouses were the best any child could have had growing up. The major concern any of them had was my welfare and they lived it every day. They all sat together in the stands when I played baseball and they were always present at all of my birthday parties, except one. They drew the line at having holidays together, but all in all my childhood was as good as it could be thanks to their combined efforts. I had no idea, before counselling, why I ended up with such a crappy attitude. It certainly wasn't because I had no love or guidance at home. I just always felt entitled and was a spoiled brat.

So when I thought of a man living in my old house bossing my children around and teaching them bad things, and doing the opposite of what Tony had done, I was unhappy. No, fuck, no, I wasn't unhappy, I was pissed.

I called CC from the rig and asked her if what I heard was true.

"What do you care? You don't have anything to do with them anymore. You ran off and left them."

"Only after you convinced them I didn't love them."

"You did that yourself. Remember? You and your attitude, so don't blame it on Jimmy or me."

"Jimmy? Is that his name?"

"None of your business."

"Well, I'm going to make it my business. I'm going to sue for shared custody."

"You wouldn't dare. Why didn't you do it when we first separated?"

"Because I didn't know you were going to move an asshole into the house. If you had met an adult and he treated my kids the way they should be treated, I wouldn't. And one more thing. If I find out he touched one of them for any reason he'll regret it, so you tell him that."

That ended the conversation.

It took a couple of months, but I was able to transfer back to my old refinery.

I had saved a considerable amount of money working on the rig, considering I had nothing to spend it on, so I bought a house and furnished it anticipating that I would get some visitation rights. Based on what my attorney said would probably happen, I bought the house in the same school district where the kids went to school.

Three weeks later I petitioned the court for shared custody. We had the same judge we had for the divorce, and when he asked why I waited so long to ask for custody, I told him my personal history and let him know that my ex-wife was living with a man not her husband and subjecting minors to that conduct. I also let him know about my counselling sessions and offered to bring in my counselor to attest to my character. In my home state with the right judge, living with a member of the opposite sex and not being married is not good; especially if there are children involved. Our judge was one of those. He ruled that I would have them every other week from noon Sunday to noon Sunday. The only caveat was that neither of us could take them out of state without the written permission of the other and we had to live in the same school district.

CC's boyfriend was with her that day and I talked to both of them after the judge made his ruling. I told him the same thing I told CC. "If I hear of you touching them inappropriately, or for discipline, you'll be sorry."

"I'm not afraid of you, motherfucker," he said. "You were a loser in high school and you're a loser now."