Hey, How's it going? Ever have one of those days when everything seems to go wrong? Yeah, me too. This one just seems to be the granddaddy of all of mine. Let me tell you about it.
My name is Peter James Murphy lll, but everyone just calls me PJ. Had that nick since I was three. My Grandpa, Peter James Murphy the first, my Dad being the second, thought it was a good choice of things to call me. It seems it was, and now I have gone by that ever since. I followed in their foosteps all my life and entered the family business of renovating homes. PJ's Renovations, not very original I know, but it worked for them and it works for me. I'm thirty eight, got two kids, (first one's named after the men I mentioned) and a house that's almost paid for. I also have a thirty six year old wife, Melinda Elizabeth, married sixteen years, that I met in highschool and married shortly after. I really do love her and I guess I better shut up about me and tell you why I almost left her sorry ass.
About a year ago, our marriage seemed a bit shaky. Not the divorce stage kind, just the usual, 'I'm getting bored of the same old, same old shit' kind of trouble. I admit I work long hours at the business, but anyone who knows this kind of business, knows good work takes time and patience. Word of mouth is the best advertizing you can get and my customers did a lot of it. I was putting on an addition to a house, two car garage with a room above it. I went through hell with the city getting permits and approvals for the plans, but I won out in the end for my customer. I spent more hours than I care to think of, hiring subs to do the work I don't do, and busting their asses to get finished on time, so I could start my part. Here's where the excremental rotary infusion starts.
I love that saying.
I had the framing and siding done, as well as the windows, so I just needed to sheath the roof and shingle it to get it weather-proof. My nephew Matt, was working with me during the summer and I had him inside doing the drywall. I was driving to the roofing outlet to get the tarpaper, nails and shingles, plus other things that I needed, to properly do the roof, and I took a short-cut down some side streets to beat the traffic. I was passing house after house, just kind of looking at things, when I spotted a car just like mine. I didn't think much as I approached it, but when I passed it and seen the dented bumper, I knew it was mine.
I didn't recognize the house or the area as anywhere my wife had friends and wondered why it was there. The first thought was that it had been stolen, so I grabbed my cell and called my wife on the home phone. There wasn't any answer and it went to the answering service. I hung up and then tried her cell. It rang and rang and then the fucked up automated reply of, 'The party you are trying to reach is not available.... blah, blah, blah'. I hung up and waited down the street to see what was going on.
Twenty minutes passed and I saw the door open and she was coming out. I saw that she was dressed in clothes she normally wore if we were going out to a party or a show. She looked all dolled up and then I saw who she was waving goodbye to. Some guy without a shirt on and looking like he just woke up, was standing there smiling and waving back. I had no real reason at that point to believe she had done anything wrong.
I watched her pull out and head towards home, which was away from me. I wrote down the address and the make and model of the car in the driveway and took the licence plate number as well. I turned around and headed to the roofing place and picked up my supplies. It took all my effort not to think of what I saw and concentrate on my job.
I finished late, around eight and went home. I looked at my car and knew I had to stay cool, thinking of what I had seen. I went in and got the old, 'Hi, how's the job going?' bullshit from her and non-chalantly gave her a kiss on the cheek and said it was going okay. She was washing dishes and stopped to turn on the microwave to re-heat my dinner. I really hate nuked food and told her I did, but I understood the need to feed the kids at a decent time, except the kids were away. I sat and ate my spaghetti and meatballs, more like string and rubber balls now, and just looked at her. I looked at her from behind and at first, I thought of how much I liked her ass and legs and how great they felt when we made love. Her front still looks good, but her tits are getting a little saggy from the kids and I didn't really mind that. The reality of it in my mind, was that I was partly to blame for them getting that way in the first place. Can't expect a woman to have a killer body after two kids and good eating. You have to draw the line somewhere and accept things as they are. Besides, a little meat on a woman is nice to feel and cuddle up with at night.
I tried to think of how to ask her about what she was doing today without getting her suspicious. I wanted to leave her no chance of ducking out of it with a lie.
"So, how was your day, hon?" I asked before stuffing a rubber ball in my mouth.
She turned slightly to me and gave me, "Went shopping and talked to my mom for awhile, nothing interesting."
" Pick up anything interesting at the store?" I added for a nudge to what I wanted to hear.
"Nah, just the usual stuff. Wasn't anything on special to look at."
'Nothing special to look at, huh', I thought, getting closer to where I wanted her to go.
"Didn't see anything that caught your attention?" I nudged more.
"Not really. Did see some nice meat, but it was too expensive." I got as a reply, without even turning towards me.
"I wouldn't mind some nice steaks once in a while. You do get a good amount of money to get some, on sale or not." I sounded off, not sounding too upset, but letting her know I wasn't happy with the crap I was getting. "Mind grabbing me a beer out of the fridge?" I asked nicely.
"Can't you get it? My hands are wet." Her tone sounding more like, 'Fuck you, you lazy shit. Get it yourself'.
