Sex and Crime: Oliver's Strange Journey (24 page)

Patty and Rita had planned for all four of
us to go on a double date at the International Plaza mall in Tampa.
Patty and Rita loved the hand-made soaps at the Lush store. As we
strolled through the mall, Rita and Jake were kissing and necking,
while holding hands.

At Lush, I bought Patty three or four bars
of fancy soap. Jake bought Rita one bar. Big mistake. He failed to
measure up again. Suddenly Jake was dead to Rita. She wouldn't look
at him, wouldn't talk to him, and walked with her arms crossed in
front of her chest. All that because of some stupid bars of soap.
What a petty bitch!

Patty and Rita had planned to end the double
date with a dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. Rita and Jake were
sitting across the table from us. Rita wouldn't even acknowledge
that Jake existed. Patty and I didn't know whether to pretend we
didn't notice, or try to help mend things between them. It was so
awkward and uncomfortable. You could cut the tension with a
knife.

Suddenly Patty put her hand between my legs,
opened my zipper, and started to play with my dick.
Un-fucking-believable! There's a time and place for everything. But
the double date from hell is neither the time nor the place to play
with my little buddy.

After the dinner, Rita gave me a long hug in
the parking lot. Way too long. Then she whispered in my ear: "Thank
you. Thank you so much for what you did for my sister. She has
really come out of her shell since she's been hanging out with you.
She was a wreck after Rocky died."

She was basically welcoming me into the
family.

I didn't say anything. I just smiled
politely. But I was thinking: "If you only knew."

Afterwards Patty said she was tired and
wanted to get a hotel room. But I told her I wanted to keep on
driving north. I drove until about midnight. Then we got a room. I
hopped in the shower and went to bed. Then Patty went in the
shower. When she got out, I pretended to be sleeping, so she
wouldn't try to have sex again.

She went back in the bathroom and started
sobbing hysterically. I don't know if it was because I had pushed
her hand away at the Cheesecake Factory, or because she knew I was
only pretending to be sleeping. She cried in the bathroom from
12:30 am until 6 am.

I couldn't get any sleep at all. My heart
was pounding. This reminded me of those nights when Donna would
wait for me to fall asleep, and then slam the bedroom door wide
open, turn the lights on and scream at me so that I would wake up
with a near heart attack. I expected Patty to storm out of the
bathroom any second now and scream at me. But she didn't.

At 6 am the hotel started to serve
breakfast, so I got up, knocked on the bathroom door and told Patty
that since we were both still awake, we might as well get an early
start. When she finally unlocked the door and let me use the
bathroom, there was a love letter waiting for me next to the sink
that she had written during the night.

This was the actual day of her birthday now.
I took her on a ghost hunting tour in Savannah, Georgia, and then
to a fancy restaurant overlooking the river. At the River Street
Market Place I bought her a chain with a hand-crafted pendant that
caught her eye. I wanted her to have a nice birthday.

Then we got back on I-95 and kept driving
north. Suddenly she pulled out her little lipstick dildo. The one
she had shown me in my living room a few days earlier, when she
asked me if I'd like to fuck her in the ass, or at least fuck her
while she had that dildo in her ass.

"Remember my little friend?" she asked with
a naughty smile.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Wanna watch me masturbate?"

Well, no I really didn't. But obviously she
wanted me to, otherwise she wouldn't have asked. It was her
birthday, so I really didn't want to make her feel any more
rejected. "Sure," I said with a fake smile.

She took off her white summer dress and her
panties. She was sitting next to me, naked, with her lipstick dildo
in her hand. She turned it on, and it started buzzing while she was
rubbing it against her clit. Then she put her feet up against the
windshield, like she was sitting in a gynecologist's chair. "Feel
how wet I am," she moaned. I rubbed her clit for a second or two.
She was wet alright.

All I could think was: Oh my God, oh my God,
oh my God.

I could not believe she was actually doing
that, while cars and trucks were passing us and those people could
see her right through the window.

I just wanted this to be over with sooo
badly. But I didn't want to make her feel like shit on her
birthday. She obviously thought she was being incredibly sexy.
Carpe Diem! Seize the day! YOLO! It was her birthday, and dammit,
she could masturbate in plain sight for everyone to see, if she
wanted to! I think I would have completely crushed her, if I had
told her: "God damn, put some clothes on, woman! You're making a
spectacle of yourself!"

I kept thinking to myself: eyes on the road,
eyes on the road, eyes on the road.

Eventually she came and told me again to
feel how wet her pussy was. There was white slimy foam all over it.
It was like her vibrator had churned her wetness into butter.
Really not sexy.

I loved watching Alice masturbate with her
little vibrating egg. She was cute when she did it. Understated.
She wasn't putting on a Broadway show. I loved to see and feel
Alice get all wet. And she looked beautiful when she had an orgasm.
That didn't happen very often though, since heroin makes a lot of
girls pretty numb down there.

And I'm sure I would have liked it, if Alice
had masturbated next to me in the car. Maybe not the feet against
the windshield. That was a little much. But with Patty, all that
over the top sex was just making my skin crawl at this point.

And then she did it againnn! A few minutes
after she finished masturbating, she gave an encore performance. Up
her feet went against the windshield and there she was, going to
town again.

Eyes on the road, eyes on the road, eyes on
the road.

We arrived at Kennedy Airport late at night.
I had left my car there when I flew to Florida, right before I
called Patty to let her know she could hide from the paparazzi at
my place in Bonita Springs.

Patty asked me to follow her to Scranton and
stay with her. I said: "No, I got no sleep at all last night,
because you were crying in the bathroom til 6 am. I really need to
go to sleep. I'll get in touch with you tomorrow."

"Don't bother trusting me. Don't bother waiting.
Don't bother changing things that won't give into changing. Just
let me go away. "

Blue October

After Patty and I parted ways at Kennedy
Airport, I called my ex-wife Donna, who lived less than 10 minutes
away from the airport, and told her I was in New York. I asked her
if I could stay there for a day or two.

After our divorce over a year earlier, Donna
and I didn't talk for a few weeks. She was very bitter. But
eventually, little by little, we started talking to each other
again, and remained close friends. We talked on the phone a lot,
and I visited her in Brooklyn every so often.

We used to have four dogs together. I
traveled too much to take care of them properly, so they stayed
with Donna. They were like our children, so I was always happy to
see them when I was in Brooklyn. Donna and I didn't have sex
anymore, but we had been family for so long, she was always going
to be my family, no matter what some paper says. She was like an
older sister or an aunt to me now.

After my crazy two weeks with Patty, I
really wanted to tell Donna what happened. But I couldn't. I never
told her anything about my personal life, or other females. As far
as she was concerned, I was celibate.

The next day I ended whatever relationship
Patty thought we had. I took the coward's way out and texted her:
"Hey, I had a good time. But I'm still in love with Alice, so I'm
gonna go back with her. I hope u understand." Short and to the
point.

Patty's reply was surprisingly civil: "I
understand. U gotta follow ur heart."

But then half an hour later I got another
text from her. A little snippier. Then I got another text from her.
And another. And another. Each text was nastier than the one
before. Sooner or later I started replying in the same mean tone.
By the end of the day we were sending each other hateful
tirades.

While Patty was staying with me in Florida,
I had come clean about Alice. So now Patty knew exactly which
buttons to press to get under my skin: "Ur dating an addict? Ur so
stupid! They never get clean! And she doesn't love u. All she wants
is money for drugs. She'll never quit heroin!"

And I knew exactly which buttons to press to
get under her skin: "WTF is wrong w u? Sex 5 times a day? I felt
like u were raping me! And that shit in the car? Sick! And u give
the worst blowjobs ever!"

I found out much later that Patty had become
so unhinged when I "broke up" with her, she quit her job at the end
of that day. Then she left Scranton, because she couldn't face her
family, friends and co-workers anymore, after she had been gushing
to them that I was The One and she was gonna marry me. She moved in
with a female friend in Washington DC. Then she decided to be gay,
and posted a profile on a lesbian dating website. I guess I had
ruined men for her for good. Well, no, actually her lesbian phase
didn't last very long. But she did try to kill herself.

Anyway, a day or two after Patty and I
parted ways at Kennedy Airport, and I stayed with Donna in
Brooklyn, I drove to Liberty, to check out my new condo.

It was in a complex called Grandview Palace.
It used to be a fancy resort called Brown's Hotel. The Browns was
one of the most popular Catskills resorts a few decades ago. During
its heyday, Jerry Lewis, Bob Hope, Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, Billy
Crystal, Rodney Dangerfield, Harry Bellafonte, Tony Bennett and
many other famous celebrities performed there regularly. In 1997,
it was converted into a condo complex and renamed The Grandview
Palace. The lady at the front desk told me that the movie Dirty
Dancing with Patrick Swayze had been filmed here in the 80s.

I bought the condo dirt cheap at an online
real estate auction, while I was in Florida with Patty. The
previous owner had simply abandoned it, and didn't even take his
stuff. So the condo was fully furnished. Perfect! I could move
right in. I just had to clean it up a little.

I picked Alice up in Middletown and she
helped me clean. She liked the condo. It was small, but cute. It
was on the third floor and the living room balcony overlooked the
pool.

The reason why Alice had started texting me
again all of a sudden, while Patty was visiting me in Florida, was
because she had found out that she was pregnant, and she needed
someone to talk to.

Hookers obviously have sex with a lot of
people. But they usually don't like to kiss them, and they insist
on using a condom. Making love, with kissing and no condom, is
usually reserved for their boyfriend.

Alice and I had made love without a condom
hundreds of times, but I respected her wishes and always pulled out
and came on her stomach or back. I wanted her to trust me, and I
didn't want to be the kind of guy who would make her feel powerless
by cuming in her, unless she told me it was ok.

Papi didn't give a shit. If she tried to
tell him to use a condom, or at least to pull out, he hit her. So
she ended up getting pregnant by him. Just like she had gotten
pregnant a few times by other dope boys in the past, and that's why
I had seen those abortions in her medical records.

When Alice told me that she was pregnant by
Papi, while we were lying in bed at the new condo in Liberty, it
was pretty obvious that she was horrified by the idea of being tied
to this abusive scumbag for the rest of her life. But she had
promised herself that she would never get another abortion. So now
she felt trapped. She really wanted to terminate her pregnancy, but
she needed someone to tell her that it was ok to get the
abortion.

When Alice had told her grandma Gina a few
days earlier that she was pregnant, she had hoped Gina would tell
her not to keep the baby and not to throw her life away with a guy
like Papi. But Gina was convinced that Alice's baby was God's will.
Gina believed that the baby was sent by God to turn Alice's life
around. She was convinced that once Alice had this tiny little
person to take care of and love unconditionally, she would get
clean and stay clean.

Although I do believe that unconditional
love is the key in a drug addict's recovery, I didn't believe for a
second that having a baby with Papi Chuloco, the abusive drug
dealer, was going to get Alice clean. Being tied to this violent
lowlife would probably drive her to commit suicide, before it made
her consider getting clean. I had seen enough girls like Mary, and
Alice's other close fried Becky, who had kids and then continued to
do drugs anyway, because the fathers of their children were
garbage.

I told Alice that I disagreed with Gina, and
if she had this baby, her life would not be idyllic like a Norman
Rockwell painting, but like the miserable life in Turn The Page by
Metallica.