Now I Call It an A-Line Sleeveless Undershirt

23 May

I had to get violent with a girl last night.  Or maybe I didn’t have to, but I did.

It was my fake girlfriend.  A girl I used to date and now she comes over to my house twice a week and we make dinner and watch MURDER, SHE WROTE.  We go on trips together.  Stuff you would do with your girlfriend, only without the fucking.

One of the things with her, though, is I tell her she can’t ever show up to my place after drinking.  Because she’s a bad drunk.  It always turns into a fight, how I’m an asshole for not really dating her, and now she’s old and has wasted the last years of her youth with me and will never again be desired by a guy, etc.  I love my fake girlfriend, but she is crazy.  These drunken fights are florid and histrionic and horrible.

And she came over last night, and someone had bought me a nice bottle of brandy.  Which she likes.  So I had a couple brandies with her.  Or, she had a couple and I had like 5, to the point where it seemed like a good idea for her to go to the store and get a bottle of wine to go with our pork roast, and we kept drinking.  And the fight started, the same fight, and instead of the usual apologetic “you’re right” kind of guy I was an asshole, and she was screaming and yelling and then said she wanted to leave.  Except she was way, way, way too drunk to drive.  She already had a DUI and couldn’t survive having her car impounded and paying ten grand and spending however many nights in jail.  And she was so hammered and so emotional that she would have woken up with her car parked at a forty five degree angle with the door hanging open and a child’s bloody scalp dangling from the grille.  I couldn’t let her go.

So I told her hey look I’m sorry why don’t you just chill out here for a little bit and sleep on the couch, or why don’t we just make up, we don’t have to be having this fight and you can’t drive right now.  But she wanted to go.  And she got up to leave and I just held on to her.  And she kind of took a swing at me with her keys, which, fine.  Girls do that.  Somehow I got her sitting back down and she still insisted on leaving and I just grabbed her, I grabbed from behind and pinioned her arms kind of like a full nelson and picked her up and carried her into my room, and she was kicking and knocked a bench over.  And she kept fighting, struggling, and I was just like look, chill out, you can’t drive, just relax.  And I put her down on the floor of my bedroom and pinned her down by the neck and just keep telling her to chill out.  It was like that for a while, me just holding her down with my hand on her neck. Just pushing her face into the floor and telling her to calm down while she struggled.  Calm down. Just calm down. You can’t drive.  And she kept screaming and I kept putting my hand over her mouth.  I was thinking the neighbors would hear and the cops would come and one of us would get arrested.  You’d think me but if the cops showed up– this is a person who has had run-ins with the law many times, so if the cops showed up she would probably scream or attack them or run off into the night, so, it would probably be her.

But she wouldn’t stop, so I let her go.  She had been telling me she could drive drunk, she always drives drunk, and… I just decided to believe her.  She went off, slammed the door. And then she came back five minutes later crying and saying she was sorry and I hugged her and we went to bed.

I mean, look, I should have called her a cab.  I wasn’t thinking straight.  But this is a person who is crazy, whose parents are crazy, whose ex boyfriends have been violently abusively crazy…. I am crazy, and my ex girlfriends have been violently abusively crazy… when you are in this situation, you are in crazy world.  She would never have called the cops on me for what I did; I would never have called the cops on her to get her off the road.  You don’t call the cops in crazy world.  You go back to people who hit you in crazy world and the people who hit you take you back.  You don’t call cabs in crazy world either, apparently, or take the fucking bus.

I wasn’t angry when it was happening.  I felt like I was thinking quite clearly.  I remember thinking that if I just dominated her completely she would relax enough to sober up on the couch for a few hours.  I remember how easy it was to keep her down.  How weak she felt.  I’m not a big guy but she just had no fight in her.  I just– it felt like a strategy.  The only thing I could do.

And leading up to it, it felt like she was baiting me into it.  Taking the fight as far as it would go verbally and daring me to let her do something stupidly self-destructive; driving the fight right up to a cliff where holding her down was the only next step.  She’d been in this situation before; had a lot of boyfriends who had beaten her.  It felt like she was guiding me to what was expected, and I didn’t know the steps in the dance.  Like she expected me to just pop her one.  She told me after I could punch her in the face and she would never call the cops.

Anyway.  Sometimes you are capable of bad shit and your life briefly becomes a Lifetime movie of the week I guess.  Would have been nice to discover an unexpected talent for chess instead of the fact that I can beat women, but… you don’t know what’s in you.  And sometimes it’s horrible.

4 Responses to “Now I Call It an A-Line Sleeveless Undershirt”

  1. Anonymous May 23, 2012 at 11:17 am #

    I much prefer this to your OK Cupid posts. I’d like to see more posts like this.

  2. Anonymous May 23, 2012 at 4:39 pm #

    How do you not see the greatness in this? You didn’t hit anyone. You saved her from herself. First, you have a fake girlfriend which, we all have that guy we want to hate because he doesn’t want us as more than a friend but we still hang out with him because of that weird secret love we’d rather have for someone than not have at all, and it’s great because, though unreciprocated, you don’t have to deal with a break up.

    You have someone who knows you well enough that she put you in that position, because she trusts you. Even if she trusts you to punch her, which I’m sure she knew you wouldn’t do. I think as a girl all this tells me is that you’re trustworthy. Where most guys might have cursed at her and told her to get out, you were not once thinking about yourself or getting yourself out of her situation.

    You knew she was testing you like kids do and you were an adult about it without being a dick. She might have needed to know she’s capable of loving someone who won’t hit her and maybe you gave that to her.

  3. fakegirlfriend June 1, 2012 at 9:54 am #

    nobody’s perfect

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