Aristippus - Ginger's Story

Instead of heading for the door, Daniel grabbed my arm, yanked the phone from my hand, and smashed it face-down on the kitchen counter. "Daniel," I screamed. As I ran around the kitchen bar to pick it up. As I picked up my phone, I realized that the glass was cracked, but it still lit up, so I punched in my access code as fast as possible. I looked up at Daniel, and as he didn't seem to be backing down, I punched in 911.

They answered on the first ring, and I heard a female voice say, "Los Angeles County 911 - What's your emergency?"

"My boyfriend has hit me; he's beating me," I sobbed.

As soon as Daniel heard me refer to him as my boyfriend, he screamed, "Husband, God damn it. Husband!"

The phone must have been on speaker phone, for the voice on the other end immediately asked, "Can you move to another room to get away from him and close the door?"

I looked at Daniel, and he just froze. I think he realized that he was suddenly in deep shit. I dashed for the bedroom and locked the door. The 911 operator took my name and address and assured me that the police were on their way. It wasn't two minutes before I heard a distance siren, and I think that's when Daniel decided to run. I heard the front door open, and him stomping down the stairs to the parking lot.

As soon as I heard his car start, I raced to the window. Thinking that he would get away. But just as he reached the street, a police car blocked his exit. The City of La Cañada Flintridge doesn't have its own police force, so it contracts with the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department. So the officers who jumped out of the car were actually Deputy Sheriffs. The driver stood by the front door of his car with his hand on his gun, as the other deputy approached Daniels' window. Also, with his hand on his gun.

I couldn't hear what words were exchanged, but soon Daniel backed up and parked his car. The deputy that was driving, got back into the police car and parked immediately behind Daniel so that he was trapped in. Then the three of them trudged up the stairs to our apartment.

I opened the door to let them in, and as one of the deputies stood by the door, the other walked Daniel over to the couch and sat him down. Then turning to me, asked, "Are you Ginger Beckman?"

Daniel sat up straight and shouted, "Ginger Ross, her name is Ginger Ross."

The deputy turned and glared at him, and Daniel reclined back onto the couch. Just about that time, another police siren could be heard coming up the street. The deputy standing by the door glanced out the window, and then looking back, nodded to his partner. Both of the officers then sort of stood back, like they were waiting for whoever was heading into our parking area.

Soon the siren stopped, and I heard a car door open and close. Followed by rapid steps up the stairs to our apartment. The deputy by the door opened it, and in walked a female deputy in the same brown uniform as the other two. She quickly surveyed the apartment, and then asked, "Are you Ginger?"

"Yes Ma'am," I answered nervously. I had never even gotten a traffic ticket in my life, and this was my first experience with law enforcement.

"I'm Deputy Perez," she said. "Now tell me what's going on here."

"He hit me," I said. "He kept hitting me, until I fell on the couch. Then stood over me with a raised fist."

"I pushed her," Daniel interjected. "And it wasn't a fist. It was an open hand."

I was still in my long nightgown, and I was shaking like a leaf. Deputy Perez glared at Daniel and looked in the open bedroom door. She could see the bloody tampon lying in the center of the bed, and glancing down, she could see menstrual blood on the back of my nightgown. "Let's go in here, so we can talk," she said, as she led me to the bedroom.

Once behind closed doors, after setting me on the bed, she went into the bathroom, and grabbing a wad of toilet paper, returned and disposed of the tampon. She then asked where had Daniel hit me. I told her, and she examined the red marks on my shoulders and bloody lip. Perez then asked about what happened last night, and what incident caused the restart of the fight this morning. I was crying, but she was very patient and understanding.

As we walked back into the living room, Daniel was still sitting on the couch, and the two cops were standing by the door. "Ginger, do you want to press charges for assault?" she asked out loud. Though I think she already knew the answer.

I thought about it for a second, before answering, "No, I don't want him to go to jail." I realized that would only make things worse, as our joint account would be drained with bail and legal fees.

"Okay, what do you want?" she asked.

"I want Daniel to leave. I want him out of the house."

Deputy Perez then turned to Daniel, "Okay, Mr. Ross. You have two choices, you can pack a bag and find another place to stay for a few days, or we can take you to jail. What will it be?"

"Don't I get to say anything?" Daniel protested.

"No sir, I've given you two choices," Deputy Perez said as she put her hands on her hips.

Daniel didn't say another word, but got up off the couch and walked into the bedroom. He yanked a pillowcase off a pillow and stuffed several days' worth of clothes in it. He then put on a ratty old Tee-shirt and slipped on a pair of shoes. Approaching the officer at the door, he held out his hands, and the deputy handed him back his car keys and driver's license. The two deputies that were the first to arrive, walked him to his car and allowed him to leave.

"Do you have another place to stay?" Deputy Perez asked me.

"Can I stay here?"

"I wouldn't advise it, if you have someplace else safe?" she said.

"My parents live in Pasadena; I can spend the weekend there," I said, wiping my nose.

She nodded that that would be a good idea and then handed me her card. "Ginger, I have written the name of a Domestic Violence Counselor on the back of my card. If you need any help, or if you just want to talk, please call her. She can help you with anything you need. And if Daniel tries to contact you, say before Tuesday, you give me a call."

I accepted the card and said, "Thank you." And I opened my arms to hug her. She paused for a second, but quickly smiled and embraced me like we were old friends. I'd never hugged a cop before. Other than taking my driver's test, I'm not sure I'd even ever spoken to a cop before. And I was very much relieved that she was so kind and understanding.

After she left, I called my mom to tell her what had happened, and that I'd be staying with them for several days. Of course, she was in a panic and wanted to come over immediately, but I assured her I was safe and that I would be home in a couple of hours. When I arrived, the whole family was there, Mom, Dad, and my sisters. I had to tell the whole story over again, which was one of the most embarrassing experiences of my life.

Mom, being the paralegal that she is, sat down at her computer and drafted a restraining order to keep Daniel from getting anywhere near me. After my dad and I read it several times, she sent it to one of the partners at the law firm where she works. The firm filed the request for a restraining order Monday morning, and a Superior Court Judge signed a TRO the same day.

Daniel must have been served the TRO around noon on Tuesday - probably where he works. For, my phone almost immediately lit up. I had gotten the glass on my phone fixed Monday, so I knew it was him. He called three times in less than fifteen minutes, and each time, I allowed the call to go to voice mail. Finally, I texted him. 'Daniel, I don't want to talk to you. Text or email me & I'll respond.'

'What is this shit Ginger?' he instantly texted back. 'How can we work this out if you won't even talk to me?'

I had called my office and scheduled several days of personal leave, so I was still at my parents' house. I didn't immediately respond. But after a few minutes, I texted back, 'Daniel, there is nothing to work out. I gave you a second chance before we got married, and you swore you would never hit me again.' I waited for a response, and when there wasn't one, I added, 'You don't get a third chance.'

'You mean we're done?' he typed.

Now I was really crying. And it was hard to see the keypad of my phone. But after wiping my face, I texted, 'Yes Daniel - you don't get another chance to hurt me.'

'You fucking bitch!' he instantly texted back. 'You're nothing but a filthy cunt, Ginger. A God Damn filthy cunt.'

I tried to respond, but I was crying so hard now, that my mom heard me. And walking into the room, gently pulled the cell phone from my hand, and after reading the string of texts. She hugged me, but she didn't give the phone back to me or even say a word. She just walked to her home office, and I soon heard her starting to type.

I never saw Daniel again. And I am so glad I never had children with him, as that would have made our separation so much more complicated. That afternoon, Mom prepared a petition for divorce and e-mailed it to her boss back at the office. She then had me withdraw one-half of the money from our joint checking account and open a new account for me without Daniel's name on it. Going through my wallet, Mom collected our joint credit cards. Immediately, she went online, paid the balances off in full, and closed the accounts. And followed up with a certified letter to each credit card company that I was no longer responsible for any further charges that Daniel may make. Mom also negotiated a sublease of our apartment, so that Daniel and I were no longer on the lease. I believe Daniel moved in with his cousin, but I never knew for sure.

I went back to work later that week, but I explained the situation to my boss, and she was very understanding. I think she had also been divorced, and she was extremely supportive, as was everyone in the office. I continued to live at home for about four weeks, but once I felt safe from Daniel, I moved in with a coworker, Megan.

Megan and I had started with the company at the same time, and instantly became fast friends. She had a two-bedroom apartment in Sherman Oaks. Which was much closer to work than either Flintridge or Pasadena, and I was very appreciative of her offer to move in with her. I was still a little nervous about Daniel tracking me down. But he had no idea where I had moved to. And as an added precaution, I traded in my car for a new one - different make, different model, and different color.

Almost six months to the day, our divorce was final. As you can imagine, it was a day of mixed emotions. I was extremely relieved that the whole thing was over. But it also meant that I forever would have the scarlet-D emblazed on my forehead. My marriage had failed. I had failed to make it work. And I had never failed at anything in my life. And the finality of it was finally sinking in.

Sitting in my cubical, I think Megan heard me whimpering, and looking around the corner, she saw the Final Decree on my computer screen. Scooting her chair into my cubicle and wrapping her arms around me, she said, "Vegas Baby. We need a road trip to Vegas."

At first, I didn't want to go. But it didn't take long to talk me into it, and soon there were six of us packing our bags for an all-girl weekend in Sin City. Megan and I drove together, and the other four girls rode in another car. And this allowed Megan and I to really have a woman-to-woman talk. She had never been married, but she had had several very hard breakups in her life. So, we did have a lot to commensurate about.

Four and a half hours after leaving our apartment, we arrived at The Mirage on the Vegas Strip. The six of us had three rooms, all on the same floor. And once we were all checked in, the party began. We started at the Center Bar, then off to dinner at the Stack Restaurant, all without leaving the Mirage. Then the tram to Treasure Island to see Mystère by Cirque du Soleil. The show was absolutely amazing, a circus without animals. And as we headed back to the Mirage after the show, Daniel was the furthest thing from my mind.

Back in our hotel room, Megan and I both took a shower, got dressed for bed, and slipped between the sheets together in the same bed. There were two beds in our room, and we had no prior intentions of sleeping together. But it just seemed natural. We didn't do anything but snuggle together, and we both were wearing nightgowns. But having Megan be my big spoon for the night, made me feel so safe and secure.

The next morning, we didn't all meet up until almost eleven a.m., but still in time for brunch, then several hours of walking the Strip, sightseeing, and shopping. Back to The Mirage by five o'clock, for quick showers and dressing for a night on the town. After a sushi dinner and more alcohol than we probably needed, we ended up in the casino. I had never gambled in my life. But several of the other girls had. So, Megan and I just followed their lead. We skipped the slots, as they just looked boring. Jackie, our co-worker who seemed to have the most experience, gravitated toward the blackjack tables. I had one hundred dollars I was willing to put in play, and I think most of the other girls had something similar.

So, we were definitely not high rollers. But under Jackie's guidance, we all pretty much held our own. No big winners and no big losers. I think I still had about ninety dollars after three hours of play. However, Jackie was doing much better, and she was up several hundred dollars. But as Megan and I got bored, we drifted off to watch other players and other games.

Casinos famously don't have clocks. So, I don't really know what time it was, but somewhere around eleven o'clock, Megan and I drifted over to a roulette table. Originally there were no empty seats, but over the next thirty minutes of play, players left, and other players moved in; and eventually, I took a seat and started playing. At that hour of the night, the tables were all twenty dollars minimum. And I discovered that if I played the four corners, if the ball stopped on one of those numbers, I won a hundred sixty dollars.

I thought this was pretty cool. And over the course of the next hour or so, I was up maybe forty or sixty dollars. I was feeling like a big winner, just because I hadn't lost anything. But sitting next to me was a nice-looking middle-aged guy with a huge pile of chips. He was coaching me on where to place my bets, and I was congratulating him on each of his wins. He was playing single numbers, and a win paid seven hundred and twenty bucks. Just before the dealer was switched out, my roulette buddy had won on a single number, and the dealer slid him a stack of chips.

"Wow," I exclaimed. "This is really your lucky night."

He smiled at me, and to my surprise, he slid the stack of chips toward me. "I think it's our lucky night," he said.

At first, I didn't know what he meant, but as he locked his eyes to mine and his smile only grew, his intention became clear. I placed my hand on the stack of chips, and said, "Is this for me?"

"It could be," he said, as his smile increased.

I had not had sex in over six months, and it was time. I accepted the pile of chips by sliding them over in front of me. Then offering my hand to the lucky stranger, I said, "I'm Ginger."

He turned to fully face me, and accepting my cordial introduction, said, "Hi Ginger, it's great to meet you. I'm Cole." And as his smile got even brighter, he asked, "So, your friend. Was that MaryAnn?"

I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see Megan, but she wasn't there. I guess she'd already walked off. Maybe she got lucky, also. So, turning back to Cole, I said, "No, and I haven't been asked that since high school."

Cole laughed and apologized, "I'm sorry, I've never met a Ginger, so I just couldn't help it."

Turning to Cole after scooping up my chips, I asked, "What do I do with these?"

"Let's go to the cashier," Cole said as he gathered his own pile of chips.

At the cashier, cashing in my chips, including the ones Cole had given me, I received eight hundred and eighty dollars. Not a bad night from my one hundred dollar seed money. And I have no idea how much Cole received, but it was a pretty nice bankroll. Stuffing the bills in his wallet, he turned to me, and said, "Shall I show you my room?"

"Absolutely," I said as I looped my arm through his.

I looked around again for Megan, but she was nowhere to be found. So, either she had gotten bored and just went back to our room. Or maybe she'd gotten lucky too. I was hoping for the latter, but I was actually excited about how my evening was turning out, so I didn't spend too much time worrying about her.

Cole's room was on the twentieth floor, and much nicer than the room Megan and I shared. "Wow," I said as we stepped in. "You have a suite."

"I'm a frequent gambler, so I get free upgrades," Cole said as he closed the door and turned to face me. Then taking my hands, he asked, "Ginger, what music do you like?"

"What?" I said as he led me to the center of the room.

He let go of my hand and pulled his phone from his pocket, "What kind of music do you like, R&B, Disco, Electro dance?"

"Oh no - not Electro dance," I insisted.

Cole smiled as he flipped images on his phone, "How about Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes?"

"What?" I said again as I started to chuckle. I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"The Time of My Life," Cole teased. "Dirty Dancing," he said as the music began to spill from his phone, and he reached for my hand.

I hadn't danced since high school, but as Cole held my hand and pulled me toward him, we were suddenly dancing. I was nervous. But actually, Cole was a very good dancer, and he made it easy. The sound from his phone wasn't the best, but for the two of us in his hotel suite, it was fine. And he must have had the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on his phone. For as soon as The Time of My Life faded, another song for the movie began - and then another.

And as the third song began to wind down, Cole let go of my hands and began to unbutton my shirt as we still waltzed to the music. I was wearing a bra, and as he reached behind me to unsnap it, I started on the buttons of his dress shirt. Soon we were both topless, and picking up his phone, Cole danced me backward to the adjoining bedroom and pushed me to a sitting position on the bed.

Then kneeling in front of me, he removed my shoes and then began a long sensual series of wet kisses up my legs all the way to my panties. Once his kisses passed my knees, I fell backward on the bed, and his kisses slowly progressed all the way up my legs to the crotch of my underwear. As I was clearly not offering any objection to his intimate inspection. Cole stood up, kicked his own shoes off, and then picking me up by my waist, tossed me to the center of the bed.

I was still wearing a skirt, and Cole still had his slacks on. But I had not had sex in over six months, and to show my willingness to get laid, I began frantically searching for the hooks that held the waistband of my skirt snugly to my hips. At first, Cole started to reach out to help me. But he quickly returned his hands to his pants, unbuckled his belt and pushed his slacks to the floor. Once Cole stepped from his trousers, which were now in a pile at his ankles. He reached up my legs to pull my skirt and panties off and over my feet.

Other than jewelry, I was now naked as a Jay Bird. However, Cole was still wearing his black briefs, and I wanted to see that package of his so desperately. But instead of dropping his drawers, he laid back down between my legs and tenderly brought his face to my furry kitty. I had never shaved or waxed, but I did trim for Daniel and look where that got me. So, Cole got the full bush, and he certainly didn't seem to mind in the least.