Ignorance and Arrogance

Halloween 2022

As I watch this generation try and rewrite our history, I'm sure of one thing: It will be misspelled and have no punctuation.

Neil Young: "I was down on a frown when the messenger brought me a letter. I was raised by the praise of a fan who said I upset her. Any girl in the world could have easily known me better. She said, 'You're strange, but don't change', and I let her."

= = = =

Under normal circumstances, this would be a pretty erotic story I'm reading. Tonight I just can seem to get it up. The pictures aren't half bad. The woman has a shapely body. A perfectionist might say that her boobs are starting to sag, but that would really be nit-picking. The guy must be good at something because his cock is hardly worth talking about.

The sex was quick and to tell the truth the pictures painted her as if she was bored. You could see her jaw tightening as perhaps she was trying to squeeze her pussy. When your lover has a pencil dick that's necessary if you yourself want to have an orgasm. His eyes were closed, probably thinking of someone a little sexier than her.

Once they were done, well him anyway, they talked.

"I'm absolutely positive that this baby is yours. I just couldn't see having his kid. While hubby and I were having sex, I wore a diaphragm. Once I started showing, I've cut him off completely. He's such a nerd. I don't think he takes a shit without consulting Google."

"Why'd you marry him?"

"In the hopes that he'd turn out to be a good provider, which he is. I just can't take his shit any longer."

"So when are you planning on leaving him?"

"After the baby is born. His work insurance is too good to pass up. He won't like the name that I put on the birth certificate, but that's his problem."

"You going to try and get him to pay child support too?"

"Why not? Shit, our state could give a rat's ass who the real father is. If you're the husband when the oven door opens, ta-da, eighteen years of child support."

"Do you think you'll get the house too?"

"Damn straight! Plus utilities, cable, and alimony as long as you and I don't get married. Pretty cool shit, huh?"

"And with what he gives us, I might be able to spend more time working on my paintings. That lady at the art gallery is giving everyone glowing reports on my submissions."

"You are very talented with a paint brush, and other things too. Climb aboard lover boy."

There were more pictures, more conversation, and more disrespect, but the damage was done. I closed the private investigator's report. The woman is my soon to be ex-wife Colleen. The man is someone she works with, Robert 'Rocky' Hackett, who got his degree last year and immediately destroyed my marriage. Based on Colleen's comments, it appears that I was the only one who didn't realize that my marriage was a sham from the start.

+ + + +

My name is Marty Thomson. I'm wish I could say that I'm about as normal a guy as the world has ever seen, but that would be a lie.

Growing up in a dysfunctional family seems to have equipped me with a way to shelter my feelings. I can shut out the noise of whomever is bitching at me. I developed that skill as my mother became more of a shrew every day. Dad left when I was eight, and nobody seems to know why or want to spill their guts if they do know. According to my mother, he was a cheating scumbag. As mean and bitter as she is, I wouldn't have blamed him for abandoning his family.

No matter what I do, my mother can find fault with it. I tune her out, which aggravates her to no end.

When I met Colleen, she was a loving and caring person. Unfortunately for me, over time she began to imitate my mother. Since I allowed my mother to belittle me, Colleen thought she could be the dominant partner in our marriage. I've grown tired of it, and am looking for a way to end this joke of a marriage gracefully.

I'm twenty eight, married for six years to Colleen, and no longer wanting to start a family. Colleen is very interested in starting a family, but it will be with someone else. I'm not planning on sticking around. I've got a job lined up and will be leaving for the coast in a few weeks, without Colleen.

Colleen's family plan is well into the second trimester with her belly bulging nicely. Yes, I'm a heartless bastard. I'd agree with you if she was carrying my child. She used a diaphragm when we had sex, and claimed it must have failed. Our family is starting earlier than anticipated. My guess, and it's just a guess, is that she took out the diaphragm for her lover. Asswipe, aka Rocky Hackett, set his sights on Colleen the day he was hired.

Same old cliché. Rocky does this. Rocky loves how I do that. Rocky and I are working on a project together. And then crickets.

Rather that make wild accusations, I opted for the simplest solution. I planted a recorder in Colleen's car. One sided conversations can only tell you so much.

"Sure Saturday works." "No, he goes golfing around eight." "Ten it is then." "Okay lover, you just have to listen to your baby's heartbeat, it's so cool." "Maybe he'll kick for you." "Love you too."

I needed proof and wanted to avoid jail time. She needs to pay. He needs to pay. They weren't worth spending time behind bars though. This sucks big time. I hired an investigator, whose report I just read.

+ + + +

There is a three-day waiting period to purchase a gun. I waited and now it's loaded with bullets but I've decided it's my backup plan as the karma spirits have dealt me a winning hand.

Halloween is approaching with its big 'Zombie Walk' coming up at the fairgrounds. Colleen and some of her co-workers, decided to try for the team prize. They held planning meetings at our house. At the first meeting, rather than being ordered about like a servant, I fabricated a meaningless task and went shopping. Colleen was pissed as I think she wanted to impress her friends with how dominant she was. Didn't work for her, and I heard about it when I came back around midnight.

When told of the second meeting, I put our newly bought baby monitor on the bookcase and locked myself in the bedroom. Watching the monitor, Rocky and Colleen were acting like a married couple with the touches, flirting, and giggling.

I listened to their plans for how to dress, the make-up Rocky got from China, and the timeline of events. Rocky was planning on taking a horse trailer and equipping it with a large powerful black light. The intent was to make their glow in the dark make-up scary. The cheaters were giddy with their plans for how I was to be dressed and treated. Apparently I was to be 'captured' and secured with chains. Anything to make me look weak.

Although I wasn't recording this meeting, I jotted down some of the things they intended to use.

Entering the kitchen I stood silently near the case of beer while the planners mapped things out and plans were made for the third and final meeting.

After examining the make-up they intended to use, something from one of those pre-requisite college classes was trying to get my attention. You remember those from college. Why am I required to take this class? I'll never use a thing I learn from this professor. But now, in the back of my mind, a red flag was waving. I decided to do some research on the internet. I'm glad that I did. Colleen is correct in that I do thousands of Google searches when I'm on a mission.

I made my presence known at that final planning meeting.

When your wife is not sure whether to do something or not, the best way to sway her is to forbid one of her choices.

"Colleen, I firmly believe it's a bad idea to use that eye paint."

"Why? Didn't you look at the advertising photos? I've already done a test, and I looked awesome. My eyes will be red and yours will be yellow."

"I'm passing on both the eye paint and blood cream. I'm putting my foot down and forbidding you to use them."

That made her furious. How dare her dominated spouse stand up to her in front of her friends.

"Marty! DON"T YOU DARE TRY TELLING ME WHAT TO DO! I'm doing it whether you like it or not."

Can't say I didn't try.

+ + + +

The night of the 'Zombie Walk', there were five people milling around my house. Everyone was busy putting on their costumes. Is it just me? There's just something odd about trying to look sexy as a dead and decaying corpse. I was not able to suspend my disbelief, so I passed on putting my costume on.

All of them were applying the zombie make-up. Lots of gray face paint, fake blisters, and hanging bits of flesh. Their tattered clothes were store bought. Why make them when you can buy zombie costumes? I warned each and every one to skip the eye paint.

Colleen was stomping towards me. Showtime. I turned my recorder on.

"Marty, get a move on. We have to leave in fifteen minutes."

"I'm not going if you insist on using that eye paint or blood cream. I think it's dangerous."

"What a wuss. You just wasted forty bucks on the costume I bought for you."

"Colleen, I firmly believe it's a bad idea to use that eye paint."

"Marty, enough already. I'm doing it whether you like it or not."

Rocky, without being spoken to, joined in "Listen Marty, if Colleen wants to look awesome as a zombie, just butt out."

"No one asked for your opinion asswipe. You going to paint your eyes too?"

"As a matter of fact I am. Colleen and I will look great together."

I turned to Colleen "Can't you see the risks you're taking?"

"Marty, just go away. Can't you see that I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK! NOW, LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Colleen, I understand that you and Rocky want to dye your eyes for the party. This is dangerous and I'm putting my foot down. You are NOT going to do that."

"Excuse me? You're telling me things I can and can't do?"

"Exactly. It will make you look ridiculous and it is risky. Enough is enough. Not going to happen."

"Oh really? You own me? What if I said I was going that way regardless of what you say?"

"Then I won't be going with you to that party. So, you choose: Party with me at home, or party without me."

Colleen ignored me.

Then they did it. Colleen and Rocky were still intent on 'painting' their eyes. The other three passed. All five used the blood cream. I cringed. Eye paint and blood cream were generously applied. Watching them making that mistake gave me mixed feelings. Their disrespect was about to bite them hard.

Colleen was the one acting all cocky "You gave me a very easy choice Marty. Have fun at home. Rocky, will you take me to the party?"

Not one to miss a chance to praise the pussy he'd been tapping Rocky belted out "YOU BET! Let's get out of here and have some fun. Goodbye loser."

It was tough to keep from smirking, but I must have done a damn good job. Colleen may have flipped me the bird as they left. Sadly I didn't feel sad at all. They deserve each other.

And off they went, hauling a trailer decorated to try to win some meaningless prize. I turned my recorder off. It was 8 pm.

+ + + +

Black lights are used for decorative and artistic lighting effects. That little nagging in the back of my mind from that Chemistry class in college was about Ultraviolet light. Who knew that a commercial grade black light could produce high intensity Ultraviolet light waves capable of triggering dangerous chemical reactions? The purple glow comes from phosphors which start the chemical reaction. Until I started doing the research, I certainly didn't have a clue. I hadn't started out looking for information on black lights. It was the warning label on both the eye paint and blood cream that warned of the dangers of ultraviolet light. The packages clearly warned that these were to be used only at night, and to avoid UV light sources. They recommended low wattage tungsten filament incandescent lights only. That's probably why Colleen's test run succeeded.

But the lovebirds didn't want my advice. They didn't need my advice. They wouldn't heed my advice. Problem now is that won't ever be able to SEE that they were wrong.

My phone went off around 9 Pm. I let it go to messages, then played it.

"Marty, this is Trish. Something's wrong with Colleen. We took both her and Rocky to the emergency room as their eyes were burning. CALL ME!"

Maybe later, the second half of the football game was about to start, and I had a bet on the outcome. I popped another top and munched on a handful of those crunchy veggie fries. Instead of ten thousand calories per handful, these were only nine thousand. Eating healthy and it tastes good.

The next message told of how all five were being treated for blisters where they used the blood cream. I tried to warn them.

A buzz let me know I'd received a text. Another buzz, and then another. By the time I checked, there were about a dozen text messages from the zombie party. The hospital needed insurance information. Not going to happen. I was told to leave her alone. Maybe she should have taken her purse. If you're going to be a big girl, you should prepare like a big girl.

Late in the fourth quarter, my phone rang again. I slid the red button over. Less than a minute later I had another voice mail. It can wait. After the cascade of late time outs, my internet bet fluttered into the virtual stack of losing tickets. In the television ads, everyone always wins. What am I doing wrong?

I played the voicemail "Marty, this is Trish again. Something is really wrong with Colleen. You need to be here. Call me. We're at University Health. They won't tell me what's wrong with her, but it's serious. Please call me."

Poor Trish. It's not her fault. Glad she passed on using the eye paint. Unfortunately for her, those chemical burns from the blood cream will leave lasting scars.

During the timeouts I'd packed a few suitcase for my road trip. That new job in San Diego was calling my name but I didn't have to be there for a week. With my car stuffed full of my belongings, I drove west on I-70, spending the night in Dillon. My attorney felt that being a resident in another state would help when it came time to determine child support.

Knowing I had a long drive in front of me, the sunrise found me enjoying breakfast at Dennys. I had the Grand Slam, and left with a couple of large to-go coffees. Enjoying the drive, I decided to stop in Mesquite for a meal. With some unexpected luck on the slots, I paid for a three night stay. Since I really didn't have an agenda, a few days of flirting and gambling took my mind off of the exciting problems back home.

It was killing me to leave my phone in airplane mode, but I suspected the shit was hitting the fan. No need to get myself all worked up. I spent my free time transcribing the recording on my phone taken the night of the 'Zombie Walk'. I won't say I looked like a saint, but it was obvious that Colleen and Rocky clearly ignored my warnings.

Using the hotel computers I signed into my email account. My inbox was filled with emails from Colleen's extended entourage and family. There were a few from people in my family, which I responded to.

On Tuesday, I sent my transcribed recordings to the divorce attorney. He had Colleen served at home with the Petition for Divorce. Quite possibly, someone would have to read it to Colleen. The reason for my warnings were because the eye paint, when activated by ultraviolet light, COULD cause permanent eye damage. The warning was bolded on the label of the eye paint and again on the blood cream. Labels which I'd taken pictures of. Pictures which were included with transcribed conversations. It's illegal to sell the stuff in the states, but easy to come by from foreign countries. Rocky was so proud of himself for finding the stuff.

Ignorance isn't always bliss now is it? Arrogance can come with a very high price tag.

+ + + +

Epilogue:

Colleen and Rocky are legally blind. Both can sense shapes and lights, but neither will ever enjoy the beautiful smile of their little girl. With some luck they might eventually get corneal transplants.

Colleen's parents are caring for her and raising the baby. Rocky is paying child support. Since I didn't sign the birth certificate, and the PI's report clearly showed paternity fraud, I was in the clear when the DNA test proved costly for Rocky.

Should I have been more forceful? Tough one there. I never returned to rub it in their face. That should be worth something. Of course I could send picturesque postcards to Colleen. That would be pretty mean, but maybe I'm wrong about that. She'd actually have to be able to see the postcards, wouldn't she?

As required by Lit guidelines, I found a younger single sex starved beauty who immediately fell in love and bed with me. Yeah right. However there is this nerdy chick at my new job that I seem fascinated with. Nerds are like magnets. We seem to repel each other.