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Journal mcgrew's Journal: -- BAR WARS 1

I see a bad moon risin'.
I see trouble on the way.
I see hurricanes and lightnin;.
I see a bad time today.
Don't come out tonight.
'cause it's bound to take you life.
There's a bad moon on the rise.

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."

My Star Wars DVDs had been stolen a year or so ago, and I'd finally replaced Episode V, the last missing one, and started watching the series again. I had a bad copy of Episode IV I'd taped twenty years ago, but it was the original - the one where Greedo didn't shoot first. I'd watched it the night before Tammy called.

"Please, you have to help me! You have to get off work and come get me!"

"But Tammy, I can't. I have work to do."

"You have to! It's an emergency! Please!! There's nobody else I can trust!"

I suspected that she wanted to get back together with me, but I had the lady Erin had introduced me to, and I wasn't going to give that up. Funny, it seems when I'm alone no woman wants anything to do with me, but if I have one they all want me. After she'd begged and pleaded with me, I reluctantly agreed to go get her.

I had to look the address up on Google maps, and when she got in the car she was bruised and bloodied. Someone had beaten her pretty badly. The bridge of her nose was bleeding where her glasses had scraped, and there were knots all over her head. She wouldn't say what happened, just that she'd been jumped, but I figured she'd probably gone back with Stalker Boy, who'd beaten her before, as well as slashed the tires on her car and other assorted mayhem.

She wanted to be "somewhere safe" -- my house. I wanted to take her somewhere safe -- the hospital. She would have none of it. I'm not very good at arguing with women, and we wound up on my couch, she on my lap with her legs wrapped around me and her blouse halfway off.

"WTF am I doing?!" I exclaimed. "Look, if Ms Lady comes by and sees this I'll lose her! You have to get off and I have to take you home!" She argued.

"Look, damn it" I said, "I've finally got someone decent and if you fuck it ip I'll never speak to you again".

She didn't like that one little bit. Words were exchanged, and she threatened to fuck things up on purpose. I put her out.

She left threatening messages on my voicemail for the next two days, and Ms Lady stopped taking my calls. Tammy had succumed to the dark side.

Then a few days later I got a voicemail from Tim, Amy's boyfriend, saying if i saw her to tell her to get her things. She was by that night wanting sex. I didn't.

"Look, Amy, I've got a good thing going. I can't."

She took the rejection a lot better than Tammy had. She and Tim had argued and he'd gotten rough with her, and she'd left, minus part of her phone that Tim had tried to break. I took her to Sprint and promised I'd pick her replacement phone up; luckily she'd taken out insurance on the old one. We went to Felber's, where Connor was to pick her up.

After they left I had a couple more beers and went home to watch more Star Wars. Getting restless I decided to walk up to Scooter's, since I figured Felber's would be closed, and besides, I'd had a couple more beers and didn't want to walk that far.

Walking down the street I saw that the moon was full, and despite the fact that there's no proven link between a full moon and people getting crazy, it did explain why things had been so violently crazy, with Tammy and Amy both getting smacked around. Of course, the drugs that they'd prescribed to Tammy were certaibly correlated to her nuttieness, and Amy'd probably forgotten to take her drugs, as she often did.

There was a blonde sitting near the end of the bar, facing away from the door, and I sat down next to her. She turned around to face me -- and it was Chris, the first girlfriend I'd had after my divorce. She'd cut and died her hair, so I didn't recognize her when I'd first walked in. My God but she looked old, and she's three years younger than me, but looks ten years older. I hadn't seen her since the night my nephew had gotten married and I'd forgotten how bad she looked; she didn't look any different than she had then, and I remembered why I'd needed Viagra with her. It's quite obvious that in her 55 years she's been ridden hard and put away wet, as the horse people say. We chatted for a while, and I stupidly invited her to my house. Stupidly, because I haven't had any Viagra for quite some time. She said "well, I might" rather dubiously, and shortly later left with some guy half her age.

Gail, whose name I've ignorantly been misspelling in these journals, walked in with a very portly fellow whose name I don't know that I'd talked to at Felber's before. I talked with the two of them, and a very attractive and very drunken woman sat down on the other side of me where Chris had been sitting, and struck up a conversation with me.

I must not be that bad looking to women, especially when they're drunk. She went outside for a cigarette, and I followed her out with my lighter in hand. Guys, it's not hard to impress a woman; open doors for them and light their cigarettes, smile, joke, and be nice. That's really all it takes most of the time.

Alas, she was married; her husband was in Hawaii. "That's too bad," I said, " I don't respect 'boyfriend' but I respect 'married'." She was impressed. "There aren't many guys like you any more", she said. "Most of them couldn't care less."

A few people got on their Hogs and left, and a few guys were drunkenly arguing in the parking lot. The good looking woman and I went back in.

Gail had left earlier, and the portly fellow came in, agitated. "I should have been able to stop it," he said. "It's all my fault." I asked him what he was talking about. "My friend just got his ass beat."

I walked outside and a fellow was staggering around the parking lot, head bleeding profusely as if he'd been hit with a beer bottle. There was blood on the pavement, and his shirt was soaked in it. I heard sirens, and a fire truck came into the parking lot, followed by an ambulance, followed by a police car. When they'd gone, the bartender came out with a mop to clean up all the blood. I went inside, finished my beer and went home.

Not fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door. "Chris", I thought. But it wasn't Chris, it was Amy and her woman friend. We drank a beer, and Amy asked if I'd give her friend a ride home; Amy's license is suspended for not paying child support, and Connor's plates are overdue for renewal. Reluctantly I agreed, and Amy and I gave her friend the ride.

When we got back, drunken Chris was waiting, standing on the sidewalk. I made her leave. Amy went home a little later; I'd finally relented and gave her what she wanted; Amy complains about Connor's little dick. I was alone again, but this time it was because I wanted to be. Alone without lonliness, that's been rare for me the last eight years.

This time I didn't get the blues. Looking back, each woman I've had has been better than the last, and as Yoda said, "looks bright the future. When fifty eight years old you reach, look as good you will not!"

May the farse be with you.

Cold hearted orb that rules the night
Removes the colors from our sight;
Red is gray and yellow white,
But we decide which is right
And which is an illusion
Which isn't illusion.
- Moody Blues

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  • Funny, it seems when I'm alone no woman wants anything to do with me, but if I have one they all want me

    Definitely. Myself I tend to feel awkward with girls unless I or they are already in a relationship, because then I know for sure that nothing's going to happen (I couldn't do anything with someone who's in a relationship because then I'd worry about them doing the same thing with me), so it makes it easier just to act "normal" rather than wondering if they're interested.

    Alone without loneliness, that's been rare for me the last eight years.

    This also to me seems to be the time when I get girls. When I don't actually mind that I'm alone, content. It's all about your attitude I

Backed up the system lately?