To contact us Click HERE
For many years I never liked Sundays and would never tell anyone why.When I went to work at the Sheriff's Department in 1978 I always asked to work on Sundays. After I started rotating shifts on patrol and my days off happened to fall on Sunday, I always had a second job lined up to take up most of the day. Eventually over the years there were times when I had nothing to do on Sunday and I would panic. I had to get out of the house. even if I had a mountain of laundry, housework or family time, I just could not stay home.No one but me knew the reason for it. I kept it all bottled up inside. even after I married Larry, he could never figure out ,nor would he ask why I had to get out and just go on Sunday.
The truth. Sundays are my day of sadness. It is my day of fear. It is my day of shame. It is my day of fear.
In the summer of 1969 I was working a job that required travelling and I happened to be in a small town in upper East Tennessee. I was staying in a very old Hotel that had no restaurant and dining options were few since I din't know how to drive, The loner part of me often declined invitations from my coworkers to go to dinner with them so I often stayed in my room having snacks for dinner. Occasionally, I would go next door to the Hotel to the Greyhound Bus Station that had a decent diner. It was there that I met my future husband. I was having my usual hamburger and coffee and the jukebox kept playing this same song over and over. The song was called "Dizzy" by Tommy Roe. After hearing it for about the third time and realizing that the machine was not malfunctioning, I turned to see who was playing it. I saw one of the most handsome men I had ever seen standing over the jukebox. Annoyed as I was at hearing the same song over and over I just couldn't bring myself to say anything so I just turned back around to finish my dinner. As I started to turn around our eyes met only a moment and he gave me a smile. I can't remember smiling back but he did come back and set down beside me at the counter. He said "Hi, my name is Larry and I don't know you." I said, "I'm Janie, the one you are irritating with your stupid song." He started laughing and I was so embarrassed because I couldn't believe I had just said that and I thought he was laughing at me. I laid my money on the counter and started to leave when he said "Don't leave because of the music, I won't play it anymore." My biggest mistake was sitting back down. We ended up talking and in retrospect I realize it was all about me and he never answered any questions about himself. He told me that he bought and re-sold cars and "other things." I was too dumb to ask what kind.He did say he was probably too old for me (I was 18 and he was 29) but could he take me out to a "real" restaurant the next night. I was so floored that this good looking gentleman would want to be with me that I said yes.Of course at this point in my life I don't remember ever saying no. It was one of my weaknesses. I was never taught that it was okay to say no and with Larry I'm not sure I would have said no anyway.
I went back to my room that night and all I could think about was this good looking man wanted to go out with me. "Me" the girl from the sticks. The girl who didn't have a high school graduation. The girl who everybody that wanted to had abused and used for the past 13 years. The girl who had always been told how awful she was. I went to work the next day thinking that he would not show up at six o'clock like he said. I got off work at five and in that hour I must have changed clothes at least ten times and redone my hair so many times that it had a can of hairspray in it. At five after six, I started to change clothes again because I was sure he wasn't coming when I heard a knock at the door. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would jump out of my chest when I opened the door to see him standing there. He flashed that heartwarming smile and I was out the door. We walked down the three flights of stairs and I still remember the yellow dress I had decided to wear brushing against the railings. I had felt so special that evening. When we got to his car, he even opened the door for me (no one had ever done that for me) to get in to his newly washed and shiny red 1967 Chevelle. We drove around for a while with him showing me a lot of local spots since I told him I had been nowhere but the hotel and out to eat once or twice. Then he took me to a restaurant called The Windsor. I had been in a few nice restaurants but never on a date. I remember ordering a steak and barely nibbling at it and I noticed a hint of annoyance from him for not eating but I just let it pass. After we ate he suggested we ride around some more and I said sure. I figured he would end up taking me to his place for sex because I thought that was expected. When we rode around for about an hour and then he said "I better get you back because we both have to get up early." I was sure then that he didn't like me at all. I equated "liking" to sex. So when he walked me to the door of my room and pecked me on the cheek I figured I would never see him again. As he walked away, I regretted not asking him in and he just smiled at me and said, "I'll call you tomorrow."
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder