The Grievous Widow

This will be the last day of my Husband's abominable life.

After six years of a horrible marriage, during which He put me through Hell on Earth.

I will finally have the opportunity to put Him out of My misery.

Don'tcha love surprises?

Two years before, after a string of my Husband's infidelities had brought Our marriage careening to the precipice of divorce. His Father intervened and made it explicitly clear that if Sonny-boy expected to inherit any of Daddy Dearest's fortune. Much less continue being paid His bloated salary from the Family Firm.

my Husband would have to sober up and stop His philandering!

To my humiliation, i of course had to suffer much of the blame and criticism at Their Family get-togethers. During which, while they were sucking down gallonage of alcoholic beverages, they would loudly denounce my failings as a wife as being the cause of my Husband's frequent inebriation. Oh, and of course, fucking my Husband only a baker's dozen times a week just wasn't up to His masculine requirements.

Okay, okay. To be honest is was more often a baker's half-dozen times a week. Even when i was suffering through my menstrual periods, i still had to get Him off. Or else take a smacking. Then have Him force Himself on me.

To quote It is my wifely duty to spread 'em or swallow 'em! unquote.

.......ahh, the romantic approach by a 'loving' Husband.

Big Daddy-in-law, being a Big contributor to the Big televangilist church He bullies all His Big Family into attending enmass, arranged marital counseling for Us. My Husband and i were required to attend twice-weekly meetings with a counseling team.

Consisting of a Deacon and His wife, who together had attended a weekend Church sponsored training camp for Biblical Marriages.

.......I bet you are thinking I made that up. God! I wish!

For what little effort was spent in analyzing my Husband's need to wander or hell, even questioning His adolescent libidinous. Much of the time was spent emphasizing how important it was, that i as the dutiful wife, it is my obedience and submission to my Husband that will eventually determine His faithfulness to His vows.

.......Let the bitter laughter of experience, ensue.

Eventually, my publicly repentant Husband and i, as the stupidly obedient wife, made a solemn reaffirmation of Our marriage vows before Our Pastor, and Our families and Our congregational community and let us not overlook, Our God.

Hey now, We're in this huge, crowded, expensively fancy temple to televised sanctimony. We mustn't forget there's suppose to be a deity hanging around here somewhere, to piously consecrate The Pastor's luxuriously theatrical, inerrant lifestyle.

Before Our community and a respectable broadcast audience share, my Husband promised. Swore a Sacred Oath! That He would no longer commit infidelities against Our marriage. That He was repentant for His carelessness in infecting me with gonorrhea and chlamydia.

When i had timidly questioned Our Pastor and my Father-in-law as to why i had to suffer the burden of being rendered barren. They whole-heartedly agreed that it was God's Will and my inherent female sinfulness. That faith healing had failed to repair the ensuing damage from the venereal diseases inflicted upon me. Any better then parsimoniously delayed medical care.

Mustn't cause a public scandal that would reflect badly upon Their Family, must We? By seeking medical care in a public hospital. All those embarrassing questions about listing partners and having to fill out Public Health forms. It just wasn't done in Our Circle.

It would be publicly disrespecting my Husband. God Forbid! So where in Heaven or in Hell or here on Earth was there any respect for me?

And besides, what IS a deeply personal tragedy for myself, was just a trivial matter to the rest of my In-Laws. Since they already had several Sons and grandSons to carry on the Family Name unto the next generation.

Yes, there are some daughters but no one bothers about them, unless a man needs another beer. They were just minor bargaining chips, to be used as needed when negotiating with other families to secure the Firm's business interests.

i had deluded myself that We could repair Our marriage. As i had trusted that the 'Men' in my life would protect me from physical harm.

........repeat bitter laughter of experience.

What a gullible idiot i was to have ever trusted a Man's word!

How does that saying go? "Women say what they mean. Men never mean what they say!"

i should have taken my lumps and walked away from that failure of manhood.

People tried to warn me to keep my Husband on a tight leash. None would admit that the leash was snapped onto the steel collar of matrimony around MY neck.

"Trust but Verify!"

Great, now i am to take marital advice from a divorced, mediocre actor and union thug, who turned out to be an even more mediocre POTUS. Well, that's what his horoscope revealed to me..........

Oh, and by the way, from whence did these great pearls of wisdom originate?

From Comrade Vladimir Lenin. "Doveryai, no proveryai" Surprise!

Wonderful! i'm suppose to base my marital fidelity on the proverbial alliterations of a Bolshevik mass murderer!

Thanks folks. Thanks all of you, just too, too fucking much!

What? You do not have any more words of pompous wisdom to shore up my marriage with?

Perhaps from Hitler or Franco or Mussolini? Stalin or Mao? Why not Pol Pot or Khomeini?

Or one of Our 'generous', frienemy Saudi Kings or the 'snicker' celibate Popes?

Yeah, just as I figured. All I hear is the chirping of anonymous crickets........

This is exactly the sort of behavior to expect from insecure males. Voyeurism being such a male vice. You guys always wanting to compare dicks. Running around playing James Bond. Taking every opportunity to spy on girls and women, while tugging at your little wee-wees.

Will men ever grow up? Will they ever learn the self-discipline to control their testosterone driven, hormonally whacked mood swings?

"Maturity, Paging Master-Bates! Master-Bates, Please Pick Up The White Courtesy Phone of Adulthood!"

chirp.....chirp......chirp


Now you're all going to go sulk on a barstool with your good buddies. Muttering in your lite beer about how unreasonable we women are. Expecting men to expend any energy for their wives' needs.

Much less make any effort to meet the delusional expectations of females that males are capable of living up to the demands of adulthood and all the responsibilities of being husbands and fathers.

chirp.....chirp......chirp

Early this year, my Father-in-law suddenly passed away. Leaving a confusing jumble of multiple conflicting wills, testaments and codicils and no clear direction for assumption of executive authority over the Family Firm.

Yet another Plutocratic Tyrant who was Absolute and absolutely certain HE was immortal!

A rough sort of soviet of relatives took 'temporary emergency' control. However, what legitimate authority there may be, was beset with corrosive plotting against one another for the succession to dominate the zemstvo. Maneuvering among the power struggles between the uncooperative departmental domains they each jealously controlled. There was not one of them trusted by even a temporary majority of the other managerial relations to ascend to becoming permanent CEO.

my Husband tried to bluff His way onto His Father's Chair but the rest of His kin turned on Him and bounced Him back down to that fabled "window seat", His spreading butt had been stuck in for the last few years.

Being the manly man He is, my Husband threw a tantrum then sulked Himself into a drunken stupor for a few days in between recklessly driving his super-charged Oldsmobile 442 V-8 muscle car with the poorly engineered, noisomely cacophonic mufflers about the city.

He finally realized that nobody was paying attention. That set off another manly drunken tantrum when suddenly it dawned on Him......

"Hey! Nobody is paying attention! I'm getting paid a fat salary to play golf all morning, drink all afternoon while gawping at strippers and then bang interns all night and no one will say boo to Me!"

me, myself? i was suddenly flooded with extra work as every damn conspirator expected me to utilize my auditing skills to catch every other intrigant fiddling their department books. Driving me crazy, 'cause they were all guilty of financial shenanigans! When i realized what a snakepit i was trapped in, I made saving My Own Ass, Priority Number ONE.

Shielding Myself from the consequences of official investigation by making sure my signature and certification were removed from every incriminating document. There i was, pulling twelve to sixteen hour days to cover-up my knowledge of the endemic corrupt practices by the Family members who were officers of the Firm.

i was trapped in a grotesquely Dantean mirror image of 'The Embezzler's Quandary'. i had to be there every possible hour of every possible day to fiddle the books. No light at the end of this tunnel to Hell!

Leaving my Husband without adult supervision......stupid, stupid, Stupid! woman i am.

The only good news i could take away from this depressing cesspool of familial villainy, was that my Spouse remained trapped in His dead-end 'Window Seat'. Except for padding His expense account, He lacked any means to take advantage of the poor internal cash-flow controls of the Family Firm. None of the Firm's customers or suppliers thought He was even worth bribing or cutting Him in for a share of the kickbacks all His greedy kin demanded.

Which means those joint tax returns We sent in each year, were actually reasonably accurate. Again, covering My Butt from the eventual blowback when the SEC, the IRS and the DOJ and all the other regulatory acronyms started unraveling the Firm's financial structure.

The first time this year, i walked in on my Husband fucking another female. She was a twenty something Sales Trainee. He snared her at an out-of-town seminar held by a subsidiary of the Family Firm. She didn't look any older then eighteen.

On a sudden whim i had traveled to the city where the seminar is being held. Hoping to join my Husband at His hotel as an anniversary surprise........Surprise!

i had become concerned that i was working too hard and failing to devote enough time to maintaining my personal relationship with my Husband.........Surprise!

For the last two years i have considered the day we reaffirmed our televised vows in church to now be our true wedding anniversary.........Surprise!

God, i was an idiot! Surprised? No? .......Sigh.....Guess deep down, i wasn't either.

Then two weeks later.....

The second time this year, i walked in on my Husband fucking another female. She was an eighteen year-old {I pray!} waitress from the coffee bar/bakery next to the Family Firm offices. Bent over His desk, she didn't look old enough to have a learner's permit.........Surprise!

i had gone to His office to talk about some of the strange charges showing up on His credit card bill. 'Teen Slut Escorts' with a long coded list of unspecified services rendered, attached.

.......i could not even pretend to be surprised by that.

Okay, it's official, i am an idiot. i'm almost blonde, i've a voluptuous figure and i'm a reproductively disfunctional female. Thus i have all the disabilities derided in Our Corporate State as determined by the spite of Our Ruling Caste of fifty-year old drunken frat boys. Just ignore the effort it had taken for me to become a Certified Public Accountant. Everyone else with a penis does.

To all you perpetually adolescent males, I am nothing more than a cross between your wet dreams and your sniggering childish dirty jokes.

Now, after professional counseling and licensed therapy, I have come to conclusion that, immediately after my Father-in-law's funeral, i shoulda, woulda, coulda, used the old fart's death as an opportunity to bail out from that hellspawned Family.

Curious people ask me why i did not get a divorce or heck, just run away, two years before when i discovered the damage caused me by my Husbands infidelity. The best I can answer now is, i was raised to honor my sworn commitments. i was surrounded by my Husband's Family and the Firm and the Church. As isolated from the real world as a dog choke-chained in a small fenced backyard. I think 'Despair' is the word I've been looking for.

Fortuitously, i did not flee. i was always the hard-working, meek and mild cubicle drone. i never expected that when another, innocent life was at stake, I was capable of becoming a real life heroine.

Several weeks after stumbling onto those two most recent blows to my pride. i was at work at the Family Firm when someone mentioned that my Husband had taken that afternoon off. Claiming that He was feeling ill, He had said He was going to go home.

Suspicious, I dropped off the receipts i had been auditing, then raced home after Him. Figuring I would catch Him with another of His bimbos. If I could video Him in flagrancy, I might be able to finally pry loose a divorce that wouldn't leave Me a penniless beggar.

This time I walked in on my Husband violently attacking a neighbor's nubile daughter, a College freshwoman, undoubtably of eighteen plus years.

Dammit!

It's bad enough I had to put up with His physical abuse. We were married and according to many commentators, He has proprietary rights over me including the right to physically chastise me for any failure of obedience and obeisance or for my failure to immediately gratify His every infantile whim.

Be as that may, it did not give Him the right to assault the neighbors or their 18 year old adolescents. Unless of course they are of a color. Then they are fair game per WASP ruling caste rules.

It would turn out that He had lured her into Our home, claiming He was hiring her to babysit Our nonexistent posterity. She looked so young! He liked His victims petite and babyface.

In shock, i briefly hesitated at the doorway to His bedroom. He had ripped her t-shirt off and was pawing her bra with one hand. While with His other hand, He struggled against her flailing hands to pull off her shorts.

Enough was Too!God!Damned!Much! I decided not to wait until He started raping High School Seniors. I didn't give a flying fuck how entitled He was brought up. To believe that His Tall, Male, White-Anglo-Saxon-Predator Fraternity caste superiority gave Him righteous privilege over us lowly female cattle.

Now motivated by a Nemesistic Fury, I quickly went to My bedroom and retrieved from the closet floor safe, a Smith & Wesson Model 40 revolver. A five round, blued steel hammerless .38 Special. Given to me many years ago by My Daddy.

I rushed back to his bedroom, double-checking that the pistol was loaded. Praying that after all these years the ammunition was still good. And setting My iphone to video mode.

There I found the terrified maiden stripped naked, badly bruised and cowering in a corner as the asshole was trying to drag her back over onto the bed. Holding up My camera phone in one hand and My revolver in the other. I yelled at him, to get him to turn around and face Me.

An astonished rage contorted his face as he swiveled towards Me. his ridiculous anonymousie prick sticking out of the fly of his pants. he held out his hands threateningly as he advanced towards Me. In his testosterone hormonal malevolence screaming at Me to get out.

"This little slut deserves to be fucked like a whore!"

Fearing for My life and the young woman's, {That's My story & I'm sticking to it!} I shot him. I shot him three times. Per the Coroner's report, neatly grouping My bullets left off center of his chest, right through his bituminous heart.

Pretty damn good shooting, considering I did it single-handed and it'd been more'n four or five years since I'd last fired this weapon at the Public Range. Luckily, I remembered from several years ago, seeing an X-ray taken of his chest. That's how I knew the actual location of what used to be My husband's heart.

And He was always grumbling that i wasn't paying worshipful attention to His magnificence........Surprise!

he was a 6 foot 2, 240+ pound male animal threatenly advancing on me and I was in fear for My life and the damozel's safety. {That's My story & I'm sticking to it!}

I love to remember that stupid-angry look on his face as I interrupted him attempting to brutalize that undergraduate florescence.

Knowing the asshole all too well but never wisely, I am certain his last fleeting thought was "How dare this fat bitch interfere with MY masculine privileges!?!"

Somehow I restrained Myself from putting the last two bullets through his groin. But, the coed was already in full blown screaming hysterics and she didn't need to have to carry such a horrible memory around with her. No matter how much pleasure it would have given Me, shredding that pathetic symbol of universal masculine narcissism.

I then called 911 for the paramedics while downloading a copy of My little film noir to the Family business's secure data storage facility. Copied to an attorney, a friend of mine last year had given me the phone number for, with a tweet to meet Me at the police station. I told the 911 operator that My husband had suddenly developed a heart condition.

Yeah, he doesn't have one anymore..........Surprise!

After disconnecting, between My bitter sobbing, I think I giggled at My naughty joke.

Next, I called the young woman's home and informed her horrified mother to come be with her. Over the phone, I told her that I had interrupted My husband's violent attack upon her daughter and that I had shot him. Her vernal juvenile is having hysterics and needed her mother to come be with her until the paramedics arrive.

She raced over just a few minutes ahead of the arrival of the EMT ambulance. While she was trying to calm her poor daughter down, I called the police. I told them that I had just shot and killed My husband while he was in the act of physically attacking a neighbor's colleen. {That's My story & I'm sticking to it!}

The arrival of the paramedics was the occasion of some confused comedy. They wanted to treat the 'heart' patient first. I firmly explained to them the Facts of Life and Death.

"That rotten bastard is deceased. If you did somehow miraculously revive him, I'd shoot the asshole dead again! Right now, your priority is to take care of the victim of battery!"

Since the insistent crazy woman present was the only one presently waving a very presence loaded pistol around, they decided to go ahead and help the victimized collegiate and her mother out of the room.

The two police officers who came bravely charging in, looked pretty damn nervous seeing Me with a revolver in My hand. Standing over the contorted punctured corpse of the "Only Good" husband.

...........I got 'em rolling in the aisles!

Could'a of been that weird look on My face that scared them. I was smiling warmly at them with tears streaming down My cheeks. And hiccuping. From all the stress I'd imagine.

Courageously, the lead officer stepped forward and accepted the pistol as I carefully handed it over to him. Trying between the hiccing & the uping, to warn him that it still held live rounds. Whilst with My other hand, I completed downloading the video of the aftermath of the shooting to My attorney. A nice feature of the iPhone, it is small enough that useful tasks can be accomplished one handed.

I sincerely want to compliment those two policemen for their courage in taking control of a dangerous situation and their professional demeanor taking Me into custody. I never felt ill-treated or disrespected, even when they cuffed Me. And I hate being handcuffed. Abusing me that way was yet another 'Husbandly' prerogative.