Charlie & Me

So, now it's February and somehow thirty-one days simply slipped away.  A flick of the page on the calendar, that's how fast it went. Since there's only twenty-nine days in this month, I better start paying attention.  

You wanted to hear more about Charlie and me.  I’ve been trying to rack my brain thinking of something you might want to hear. Well, here's one.  As I told you, Charlie is a sportswriter and wanna be jock.  He has a lot of friends and loves hanging out with the boys.  They are all boys even though you may think they're men, you know that don't you? Anyway, business isn’t always done on the field.  A lot of it takes place in sports bars, restaurants, gyms, sports arenas, yadda yadda yadda. It’s also not a 9 to 5 job so many times he’s out at night. 

When we were first together, I would always ask him to give me an approximate time to expect him home.  I didn’t care; I’m not the jealous type.  I trusted him even though I know some of the guys he hung out with had less than sterling reputations for monogamous relationships.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not something I embrace or condone but it is what it is and as long as it doesn’t carry over into my life, so be it.

Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself.  The point being, whatever time he gave didn’t matter it was only so I could plan my own time. If it was late enough it gave me an opportunity to either go out with the girls or have them over to our place. 

I didn’t think that was an unreasonable request, and neither did he, at least at the time.  The first time it happened, he told me around 7:30 or so.  Fine, I would just do some shopping after work and plan on a late dinner with him around 8:00 or so.  I stopped at our favorite take-out place and brought home dinner.  When it got to be around 8:30, I said the hell with him and ate dinner by myself.

He sauntered in about 10:00 all apologetic with all the usual excuses. Fine, I accepted that.  Things happen.  You are having fun and time gets away from you; it’s happened to me.  Apology accepted, and that was that.

A couple of weeks later, he said he would be out until around ten or so.  I made plans with my friends, went for a drink and dinner after work and got home about 9:30. Since he had expected me to be there, he was worried.  I understood his concern but in all fairness, he said he wouldn’t be home until ten, and so I didn’t bother checking in. I promised from then on I would let him know my plans even if I didn’t expect him to be home.   He was not very gracious about it and sulked the rest of the evening.

All was well for a while and then one night he was going out with friends – not a business thing but a social thing.  “I should be home around 10 or so,” were his parting words to me.  I turned off all the lights and went to bed about 11:30 – still no call and no Charlie.  I woke about 3:00 am to a stumbling happy drunk trying to have sex.  I pushed him off of me and somehow, I have no idea how, he fell off the bed and landed on the floor.

That’s where he still was the following morning.  He woke with a horrible headache, not to mention the aches and pains associated with falling out of bed and sleeping on the wooden floor. He had no idea how he managed to land on the floor, and since I wasn’t speaking to him, he received no answers from me. He was grumpy as hell as I was mad as hell so it was for the best.

I didn't notice his car so I was happy he either took a cab or had one of his friends drive him home.  Although, knowing his friends, they were too 'happy' too.  When he asked me to take him to get his car, I told him he could call one of his many friends, I was sure they would assist him – I had other things to do.  That’s when things got interesting.  I spoke my piece and not in a very respectful way and despite his pounding head and body aches, he still managed to get me against the sink and whack my bottom with the blue spatula.  I didn’t take too kindly to that spanking and managed to kick him in the shins.  At that point, all bets were off.  I found myself, bare-assed, over his knee.  My feet dangling on one side and my head hanging down on the other side of the kitchen chair, I was yelling like a crazy person when a friend of Charlie’s came to the door. Apparently he heard the yelling, followed the noise to the kitchen window and peeked in.  That’s when the clamor really started. 

To say I was mortified was an understatement.  Charlie did his best to calm me down. He tried to cover my naked bottom with his robe; while his other hand was chasing away the ‘peeping tom’.  It didn’t matter; I knew whoever it was, saw everything.  I was never going to forgive Charlie, for the previous night or the spanking.  We would have to get divorced or move out of the area.

It being the weekend, moving was out of the question and the divorce attorney wasn’t available until Monday.  By then, Charlie and I were back to normal.  Well, as normal as can be.  He canoodled and cajoled me all weekend until I didn’t care who saw me getting walloped.  I knew I would get even in another way and bided my time.

It took a while but when he pulled another stunt by staying out way past the time he was expected, I knew how I was going to solve this problem, once and for all. He had to get a taste of his own medicine. I began planning my attack.  Charlie and I had a weekly thing we attended.  Mostly, I would come straight from work, we’d meet and then have dinner afterward.  One night, I didn’t call and only drove home. All night, the landline rang and rang, but I never answered. (Mind you, this was back in the dark ages, before cell phones.)  Finally, after about two hours, a frantic husband walked in the door to find his wife in bed, reading a novel.

He was a ranting, raving lunatic as he carried on about my not being where I was expected, without a call or anything and how frightened he was thinking that something awful had happened to me.  When he finally quieted, my response was “Now you know how it feels to expect someone at a particular time and place and how worried you become when that doesn’t happen.”  He looked at me, and I watched his face as the message was received loud and clear.

Of course, I still got spanked for pulling such a stunt, but it was worth every blow.  The makeup was fun too and from that day on, whenever Charlie had to be out in the evening, he merely says he didn't know what time he would be home. 

That was fine with me, if I didn't have a time, I didn't have to fret if the time came and went. After all, it's only common courtesy. Don't you agree?

All I have to say is that you may think you know who these people are, but you are wrong.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.