....Kozmic's thread about brown baggin' vs buying lunch out but it reminded me of an incident that I'd like to share with y'all. It took several years before I could laugh about it but the humor is there and also a darn good lesson well worth learning.
Back in 1968 I was 2 years out of the service and married to my first wife. This incident played a large part in my ultimate decision to put her on the street. There were other reasons but this one was one of the most important. And now after all these years it is the one that I remember the best.
I was in college and working part time at a job that required me to be in different parts of the county on different days and times. One of my favorite days was the day each week that I was in a semi rural area that had a small but very nice little park. Lots of big old trees and beautiful plants and flowers. On these days I'd bring a sack lunch and sit in my car in this nice little park and listen to the Paul Harvey News and enjoy Mr. Harvey's stories.
I would ask my wife to make my lunch because carrying a full load in college and working 35 to 50 hours a week didn't leave me a lot of time to lay around the house. She would make my lunch but didn't really want to and would grumble while she was doing it. When she made me a lunch meat sammich she would only put one slice of meat on it. I told her time and again PUT MORE MEAT ON MY SAMMICH.
Also during that time I was an avid deer hunter, as if I had the time to really enjoy it. But I did get out at least a couple of time every deer season. It was my one way to relieve stress and unwind from the grind. I loved being in the woods by myself.
As a young fella in school and working and raising a small child the money situation was always tight. It was like, should we blow our money on food and rent or save it for an emergency?!?. We actually pinched our pennies through out the week so that we could have a bag of Fritos and a carton of onion dip on Friday nights to have with our one night a week we had to watch TV together.
But I caught a pair of hunting boots on sale and mine had been worn out for years and I decided to pop for a new pair. I paid $69.95 for a top of the line insulated and waterproof pair of hunting boots. That was a tidy sum in '68. My house payment was $67.00 Per month, just to give you some scale. Wifey hit the ceiling. Ranted and raved for weeks about it.
So the weeks and months pass by and hunting season is quickly approaching. I pull into my serene little park and open up my lunch and take out my lunch meat sammich and.....You guessed it. Only ONE slice of lunch meat. I found a pay phone after lunch and called her and chewed her out good. She hung up on me.
Two weeks later I'm at my little park again. I had forgotten about it and was enjoying the Paul Harvey News. I got to my sammich, unwrapped it and took a bite...or TRIED to. I was unable to bite through the meat. What the heck kind of meat IS THIS anyway?!
I finally gave up and took the sammich apart to see what it was. It had mustard all over it so I couldn't tell what it was. Then the little hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I got a sick hollow feeling down deep in my gut.
Oh NO!! She wouldn't..... She couldn't.....
I went straight home and stormed into the house. Went to the closet in the utility room where I kept my hunting gear and pulled out one of the new boots. It was fine. I relaxed a little bit but I still had a bad feeling. I picked up the other boot and...and...and I couldn't believe what I was looking at. She had cut the tongue out of the boot and put it in my sammich.
I turned around and she was leaning against the door jam grinning at me. That is as close as I ever came to hitting a woman. I'm talking about C.L.O.S.E. She didn't speak. She knew better after she saw the look on my face. I didn't speak because I was afraid to. She stopped grinning. I walked past her and got back in my car and went back to work.
I decided to let it go. I either had to kill her or just get over it. I saved the tongue of that boot. Got most of the mustard off it and kept it. 2 years later when I ran her off I stuck it in her suitcase. If she found it she never said.
I'm almost sorry that she was not there to see me bite into that sammich. She would most certainly enjoyed my reaction. Try to imagine the sight: a grown man jumping up and down in a parked car screaming like a banshee. It must have been a site.
We had plenty of fights and arguments during our remaining time together but neither of us ever mentioned that incident again. Oh, and I made my lunch myself from then on.
Back in 1968 I was 2 years out of the service and married to my first wife. This incident played a large part in my ultimate decision to put her on the street. There were other reasons but this one was one of the most important. And now after all these years it is the one that I remember the best.
I was in college and working part time at a job that required me to be in different parts of the county on different days and times. One of my favorite days was the day each week that I was in a semi rural area that had a small but very nice little park. Lots of big old trees and beautiful plants and flowers. On these days I'd bring a sack lunch and sit in my car in this nice little park and listen to the Paul Harvey News and enjoy Mr. Harvey's stories.
I would ask my wife to make my lunch because carrying a full load in college and working 35 to 50 hours a week didn't leave me a lot of time to lay around the house. She would make my lunch but didn't really want to and would grumble while she was doing it. When she made me a lunch meat sammich she would only put one slice of meat on it. I told her time and again PUT MORE MEAT ON MY SAMMICH.
Also during that time I was an avid deer hunter, as if I had the time to really enjoy it. But I did get out at least a couple of time every deer season. It was my one way to relieve stress and unwind from the grind. I loved being in the woods by myself.
As a young fella in school and working and raising a small child the money situation was always tight. It was like, should we blow our money on food and rent or save it for an emergency?!?. We actually pinched our pennies through out the week so that we could have a bag of Fritos and a carton of onion dip on Friday nights to have with our one night a week we had to watch TV together.
But I caught a pair of hunting boots on sale and mine had been worn out for years and I decided to pop for a new pair. I paid $69.95 for a top of the line insulated and waterproof pair of hunting boots. That was a tidy sum in '68. My house payment was $67.00 Per month, just to give you some scale. Wifey hit the ceiling. Ranted and raved for weeks about it.
So the weeks and months pass by and hunting season is quickly approaching. I pull into my serene little park and open up my lunch and take out my lunch meat sammich and.....You guessed it. Only ONE slice of lunch meat. I found a pay phone after lunch and called her and chewed her out good. She hung up on me.
Two weeks later I'm at my little park again. I had forgotten about it and was enjoying the Paul Harvey News. I got to my sammich, unwrapped it and took a bite...or TRIED to. I was unable to bite through the meat. What the heck kind of meat IS THIS anyway?!
I finally gave up and took the sammich apart to see what it was. It had mustard all over it so I couldn't tell what it was. Then the little hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I got a sick hollow feeling down deep in my gut.
Oh NO!! She wouldn't..... She couldn't.....
I went straight home and stormed into the house. Went to the closet in the utility room where I kept my hunting gear and pulled out one of the new boots. It was fine. I relaxed a little bit but I still had a bad feeling. I picked up the other boot and...and...and I couldn't believe what I was looking at. She had cut the tongue out of the boot and put it in my sammich.
I turned around and she was leaning against the door jam grinning at me. That is as close as I ever came to hitting a woman. I'm talking about C.L.O.S.E. She didn't speak. She knew better after she saw the look on my face. I didn't speak because I was afraid to. She stopped grinning. I walked past her and got back in my car and went back to work.
I decided to let it go. I either had to kill her or just get over it. I saved the tongue of that boot. Got most of the mustard off it and kept it. 2 years later when I ran her off I stuck it in her suitcase. If she found it she never said.
I'm almost sorry that she was not there to see me bite into that sammich. She would most certainly enjoyed my reaction. Try to imagine the sight: a grown man jumping up and down in a parked car screaming like a banshee. It must have been a site.
We had plenty of fights and arguments during our remaining time together but neither of us ever mentioned that incident again. Oh, and I made my lunch myself from then on.
