Bob and Randy

This morning, I realized how much I left out of the Bob story.  I won’t go back and retell it all, but there is one story that I think gives a good idea of how narcissistic he could get.

If you recall, my first lover, Dave, the man I married, had given me the wonderful gift of Herpes.  I made it my policy to tell potential partners about it so they would have the choice that I did not.  I’m not bragging, but in the countless partners I had, I never had a man decline relations because of it.  Many of them balked at condoms, too, even knowing that Herpes is contagious even when there is no outbreak.  Bob was one of those partners.

In the period after Adina moved out and before Bob did, he began to experience symptoms that he thought might be Herpes.  We went to the doctor, and he confirmed that it was indeed herpes.  Bob began to verbally abuse me on the way home.  He told me that I should feel horrible.

I reminded him that I had made it very clear before we ever had sex that I had herpes and that it can be transmitted even with no symptoms.  I said, “you made the informed choice, so how is this my fault?”  He called me an asshole.  I’ve had some shitty relationships, but this was the first time a partner who claimed to love me had called me an ugly name.

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After Bob moved out, he stored some items at my house.  I had gotten a job teaching GED preparation for a local outreach program.  The Petting zoo was still attracting a grove of kids.   Sometimes I’d come home from work and Randy would be sitting out front while several kids played in the area with the chickens and bunnies.

I tried to explain to Randy that he was making himself vulnerable to accusations of inappropriate behavior with children when he let them come over when I wasn’t home.  I told him I’d prefer that he’d wait until I was home, because it’s my house, and if someone was to get hurt, I would be liable.  He told me I had a dirty mind and was a pervert.  As long as he was yelling at me, he decided to tell me that he really resented the fact that Bob still had stuff at the house.  “I thought we were done with him,” he told me.  “This is our house.”

My eyes flew open.  “No!  This is not our house!” I said, raising my voice.  “This is my house, and this is how I choose to handle this situation.”

Randy didn’t have a car, so I would have to drive him to work.  Things got rather desperate and the power was about to be shut off.  When Randy’s payday came around, I had planned to pay the power bill, but he decided to tell me that he wasn’t going to pay rent because he needed to buy a car.  I told him that he needed to move out, then.  He got very hostile and beligerant.

The next day was Halloween.  I spent every Halloween over at Talib and Olivia’s house as the scary witch at the end of their haunted house.  It had been our tradition for more than 10 years.  Before I left to go to Talib and Olivia’s, the power in my house was shut off.  I  went to the haunted house anyway.  I needed a fun break.

As I was helping to get everything set up, I got a call from Randy.  I let it go to voicemail.  On the voicemail, he yelled and swore at me and told me that this was bullshit.  He said I’d better get the power turned back on or he’d be calling the police.

I was a wreck.  I’d just gotten the situation with Bob to a manageable place and now I had another jerk in my house doing his best to intimidate me.  I called the police.  The officer told me I’d need to meet him at my house.  I asked if we could meet at the top of the street because I didn’t feel safe at my house.  I arrived at the spot where I was supposed to meet the officer and called my brother, Ed, while I waited.  I asked him to come stay at the house with me because I didn’t feel safe.  He told me he’d be there right away.

The police came and told me that this was a civil issue, and that unless Randy assualted me, there was nothing they could do.  He went down to talk to Randy, while I waited for my brother.  The officer came back and told me that since my power was turned off, he was going to call code enforcement on me and have us removed from the house.  I felt like I was stuck in a nightmare.

Ed finally arrived, and we went into the house and sat on the sofa talking about his kids.  What Randy didn’t know is that Ed and the kids needed a place to live, so I told him he could move in with me.  We talked about when the kids would be brought over and he mentioned that he’d have the money for me to turn the power on the next day.

Randy had been sitting in the kitchen.  It was dark, so it had taken him a few minutes to realize that this was Ed.  He said, “Oh, hey, Ed, I didn’t realize it was you.”

Ed said, “Hey.”

Randy said, “There’s no need for you to be here.  Your sister isn’t in any danger.  She’s just trying to pull some shit and she’s going to have to pay.”

Ed said, “No.  You’re going to have to pay.  Don’t talk to me right now.”

Randy asked me, “Did I hear you say that the power would be turned back on, tomorrow?”

I could have just said yes, but I was so sick of feeling controlled by asshole men, I said, “If I can manage it.”

Randy stood up and started to say something.  My brother stood up and said, “Don’t.”  If I didn’t mention it before, my brother is 6’5″ and has worked hard for most of his life, so he can be intimidating when he wants to be.

Randy slammed his drink down on the table and shouted, “Do you want to do this?  Let’s go outside!  I’m not afraid of you!”

Ed stood up and said, “Let’s go, Mother Fucker!  I thought you’d never ask.”

I didn’t want them to fight, so I called the police.  Ed is smart enough to not throw the first punch.  Randy seemed to realize that if he threw it, it wouldn’t end well for him.  They were standing chest to chest and giving each other hard stares when the police arrived.  It was the same officer who’d been there before.  He asked to see our IDs, so I went into the house to get mine.  Just before I got back outside, Ed came in and told me that Randy has warrants.  Apparently, he had several DUIs in Oregon and was wanted.

I don’t understand how the justice system works, but the officer did not arrest him.  He looked at my ID and then he left.   I was sitting outside with my brother, trembling from the adrenaline.  A few minutes later, Randy came out and said in what I can only describe was a very submissive tone, “I’ve called my friend, Joe.  He’s going to come get me tonight.  If you can keep Marley (his dog) until I can find a place, I’ll be out of your hair tonight.”

I told him that I wanted him to sign a document that said that he’s giving up the right to call this his home as of this date.  He signed it.  I signed it.  And I had a neighbor sign it as an impartial witness.  Randy left as he said he would.  I didn’t hear from him again, until he called me to tell me to get rid of his dog.  He couldn’t take her.

The night that he left, I barely slept.  I woke at every sound and had to remind myself that Ed was there and Randy was not and I was safe.

Bob called me within the next few days.  I told him about what had happened with Randy.  He said, “I bet you’re sorry you slept with him, now, aren’t you?”

I said, “You’re joking, right?”  No, Randy had told Bob that we were an item, now.  That kind of made the thing about “our house” make more sense to me.

What am I, some kind of magnet for fucked up men?

My counselor and I discussed these things in our next session.  He was furious that the police wouldn’t help me that night.  He told me I should write a letter to the police department, documenting the incidents.

I was just extremely grateful for my brother, after that.  Living together had its challenges and they weren’t pretty, but I’d still prefer to live with him than Bob or Randy.  At least I never feared for my safety with him.