Archive for ex-convict

Day 10: “The Ex-Convict and Dinner”

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on May 3, 2011 by Veronica Graham

Yesterday, President Obama made an announcement that arguably the most evil man on earth, Osama Bin Laden had been killed by our Navy Seals…  I’m a proud American, but I couldn’t help but feel uneasy by the frat-boyish “YEAH!!!!  OSAMA is DEAD!!” comments popping up all over facebook.  Also, being a Washingtonian, I was happy to be in the comfort of my own home instead of “celebrating and dancing on the streets” in front of the White House.  What is with this mind of the masses?  I felt like I woke up back in time when it was socially acceptable for normal citizens to be that blood thirsty.  People were crying (seriously), drinking, and now demanding photos to see his dead body.  Seeing news footage of the crowd- I couldn’t tell the difference between us and a crowd at a gladiator arena.  It was really difficult to watch.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mourn Osama’s death, but he was Osama Bin Laden, not the Queen Bee of the Terrorists… you don’t kill the queen and automatically the other bees go away.

I look back on a former relationship, not comparing him to Osama, but I’ll call him Iago, named after Shakespeare’s most evil and manipulative character and how easily my own individual mind turned to mush around him… I was the worker bee to his Queen Bee.

The most trivial thing I remember about my three-year RELATIONSHIT with Iago was we always ordered the same thing when we went out to eat.  This little piece of trivial information could have saved me from three years of abuse (emotional and physical), drug addiction (too many to name), restraining orders, and doing time (OK, so it was only for a night, but still…. the WORST night of my life.)  The first time I met this ex-convict was when I started waiting tables at sports bar and he was working on brewing coffee in the kitchen.  Even with a collared white button down shirt and khaki pants, it was evident that this guy was no good and THAT was hot.  I looked up, crossed myself like the Catholics do and said, “Oh God, here we go.”   I was definitely the aggressor in the beginning, insisting that he have drinks with me after work where it was revealed that he had just gotten out of prison, serving an 8 year sentence, which meant to me:  He hadn’t gotten laid in EIGHT years.  I wanted to be that girl that popped his freedom cherry.

It was supposed to be a one night stand, but he was stage 5 virgin clinger.  After that fateful “OH,” he was hooked and I was his and there was nothing that could be done about it.  This was fun at first, he would stare down any guy that looked at me and we would spend our free time practicing what he missed out on for the last eight years.  It was when the pants came back on and we sat down to dinner to eat where things would fall silent.  Our minds became like the bees, we were connected together, couldn’t think without the other, and since Iago wasn’t much of a thinker (like some good-looking men), I was left in the dark.  We were that annoying couple at restaurants who stared at the menu, never deciding on what we wanted, “Burger?  No…. Pasta?  No…. Fish and Chips?  No…  Oh, I’ll have what he’s having.”  Iago decided the fate of all things for me: what I ate, what I wore, how my hair looked, how my nails were done.  He did this with subtle suggestions and gifts- LOTS of GIFTS:  “Here’s a new outfit for you,” “You should REALLY order the salad,” “I LOVE the way your hair looks straight,” “I’m going to treat you to a manicure.”  This subtle control wasn’t noticed until it was out of control.  It wasn’t long before the suggestions became demands and by the time I was ready to leave this bad boy, I had pushed away all the support I had around me and had no where else to go.

I look back on this time with eye rolls, scoffs, and a puke bucket ready for me.  If I met the Veronica Graham that was dating Iago, I would beat the SHIT out of her.  Even today writing this, I fear that he’ll read this entry and see it as an invitation to come after me again… but it’s OK, I got DC Police on speed dial cause of his ass and I know most of Second District on a first name basis… Hey Sergeant Thomas, remember that bunt cake I made for you when I call you at 3 AM!  

This would have all been avoided if I kept my legs shut back then and realized that Iago and I truly had nothing in common.  I recognize this now in many other guys:  “What kind of music do you like?”  “What’s your favorite color?”  “What are you studying?”  “What do you do for a living?” “Do you prefer cats or dogs?”  All these superficial, surface questions that really have nothing to do with how much of a connection you may or may not have with someone… and more importantly, how compatible two people are together.  If I would have really listened to Iago that first night we met, instead of focusing on how to make his eight year dry spell wet & wild, then I would have seen there was nothing between us but silence.  Sex brought us together and drugs kept us together.

Here’s to 356  Days, Veronica Graham, I’ll order whatever the hell I want!-