She was so normal about it. "I'm homeless but my Jeep is pimpin it - tee hee." That's my Suz, wise cracking when faced with the reality of having your shit shoved out the door like an unwanted hair clog from a drain. One big fur ball of gunk.
There were so many insults in this scenario. First, and I mean this, I met ass hat and he is a dick. The fact she lasted so long with a douche like him is just wrong. My girl deserved more than being dumped out the door because she had the good sense to leave that adulterous ass hat. Second insult was where to stay. Sure, she has a lot of friends she could bum a couch off of for a couple days, but she had a lot of baggage with her. And by baggage I mean the emotional kind. So she did what any of us would - went home.
At first blush, this was the easy part. Her mom is a Little Mary Sunshine and her dad is hilarious, which is probably where she gets her wacky sense of family humor. Dad is a retired opthamologist who gave me my first pair of extended wear contact lenses back in the 80s. As he handed over the coveted prize, he made me promise I would wear them no more than one hour the first time and gradually build up to a full day. I nodded furiously "uh huh, of course, absolutely" and didn't see him scowl and cluck his tongue. That eye infection lasted more than 30 days.
But in hindsight, going home always sounds better than it is. Sure, there's the cooking and laundry mom does and the shoulder to cry on (although Little Mary now drops the F bomb when talking about ass hat), but it's also where OLD people live. The TV loud enough to hear down the street, pill bottles lining the counter like soldiers preparing for war games, and the temp was a constant 78 degrees even in the dead of summer. But there's also a lack of privacy. Oh my gawd. Mom and dad live in a one-bedroom rancher. A single story, single bedroom, single bathroom, single TV home. Bless them, but oh my gawd. Suz stayed for a couple months and never complained about sleeping on the floor under the dining room table. She moved out of the nursing home by the end of the summer after closing the deal on her 2-acre ranch.
But in hindsight, going home always sounds better than it is. Sure, there's the cooking and laundry mom does and the shoulder to cry on (although Little Mary now drops the F bomb when talking about ass hat), but it's also where OLD people live. The TV loud enough to hear down the street, pill bottles lining the counter like soldiers preparing for war games, and the temp was a constant 78 degrees even in the dead of summer. But there's also a lack of privacy. Oh my gawd. Mom and dad live in a one-bedroom rancher. A single story, single bedroom, single bathroom, single TV home. Bless them, but oh my gawd. Suz stayed for a couple months and never complained about sleeping on the floor under the dining room table. She moved out of the nursing home by the end of the summer after closing the deal on her 2-acre ranch.
Suz is a fighter. She totes a gun and a flask. She drives straight and solid (and sometimes into deer, but that's another story). Her confidence would make Miss America tremble in her tiara. With a renewed sense of being, and a few more garments, Suz picked herself up, dusted herself off, and was starting all over again.
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