In 2002, at the age of 24, I was working six graveyard shifts a week at a gas station. To give you an idea of what that’s like, imagine getting stoned to death almost every night. Clearly, I do not mean that in a narcotic sense. Obviously I would only put myself through that for financial reasons. My father had lost his job and even though my mother was still working it wouldn’t be enough. At that time I was only working 4 nights so I went to my boss who was a full of himself prick (I’m just sayin’) and asked to work 6. Which meant an employee had to be moved to another location. That he didn’t mind because he could never deny that I was the more responsible employee.
By the time I had been working this ‘taking over my life’ schedule for a little over a year a new employee Manny was hired to work 1 or 2 swing shifts a week. The second time I came to work to relieve Manny he asked me to go see a movie. My first reaction was, “Look, I’m only off one night a week, I’m exhausted and really don’t have time to go out anywhere, with anyone.” He would not leave. Honestly, just to get him to go home, I agreed, and I will regret that until the day I die.
It was about two weeks later that my daughter was conceived. Let me be clear, that I do not and will never regret having my daughter. However, the existence of her father in my life is a thorn in my side, in my head, in my neck, in my back, and in my ass.
What possessed me to be such a whore that night? I really wasn’t that kind of girl but all I can say is, I was bored. If my job hadn’t become my whole universe I don’t know if the outcome would have been the same. However, crying over spilt milk, to say the least, is a waste of time and energy.
When I found out I was pregnant I knew full well I didn’t like him. At all. We see and think about things on a completely different level. He lacks basic common sense and enjoys drinkies a little too much. He see’s things in such an ass backwards way that I’m left baffled whenever he opens his mouth. I could go on and on and on a little more. I have no desire to bash him (at least not with words) and you’re probably thinking, they’re two sides to every story but no, seriously, he’s an idiot. Regardless of how I felt towards him I tried to make a relationship work naively thinking it would be best for the baby to have her parents together. Manny had feelings for me and asked me to marry him. “I’m sorry, I don’t like you very much, so I would appreciate it, if you would fuck off now.” Is what I should have said…