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Mama always said that you'uns never can tell what's go'n on behind a pretty gal's face. That was certainly the case one Saturday evening in March of 1998. I was newly available. The only time I had ever experienced true love was in the previous three year romance with a beautiful Sumatran musician I had met in Sunday School a month after my divorce. I had been waiting for her to finish graduate school, and then we were going to get married. She graduated with a beautiful public recital in Downtown Atlanta . . .then Dearest Daddy struck with all the evil that any suckling pig of satan can inflict . . . well that's another story for another day.
Out of the blue, Jeanette called. How did she get my phone number? I had not seen her since the Spring of my thesis year. At the time, she was the girl friend of one of my classmates in architecture. We started out with 287 freshmen, but by the thesis year only had 18 candidates for graduation. When you are in the lab drawing 24/7 you get to know those 18 comrades pretty durn well.
Well, she initially explained on the phone that she and Dan had married, and had a good marriage. However, he had died two years ago. She had recently decided that it was time to go on with her life. She claimed to have gotten my address from the Georgia Tech Allumni Society. She said she had lots of money from Dan's two life insurance policies. The first date would be her treat.
I had plenty of money then . . Clinton was still President . . . but wouldn't turn down an invitation to dine at the finest restaurant in Marrietta. Well, she was probably ugly as sin now, but I remembered that she was cute and very sweet back then. We always had pleasant conversations when she came to visit Dan at the architecture design lab.
Saturday night arrived. I walked into the restaurant. The hostess said that Jeanette was waiting for me at the table, and the waiter guided me to our booth. There Jeanette was! . . . face was glowing from the flames of a candles at our table.
DANG! She is beautiful! Who had ever heard of a woman going from "cute" to beautiful in two decades? Well . . . there are a lot of beautiful womenz around Atlanta. Most of 'em I met, spent most of their time each day looking at a mirror. BUT . . . we talked. She was still sweet-natured, but now articulate, interested in many subjects, and having been the manager of her husband's architecture office, related to many experiences I had. Hmm-m-m, this just might be a match made in heaven.
Then she popped the question . . .
Richard, have you every thought about dying?
What? Guess she wanted to talk about her experiences of losing her husband. "No, not really Jeanette, I bet is was very hard on you, losing Dan after being in a happy marriage."
No Richard, I am talking about YOU dying. You are going to die within a few months, and I wanted to prepare you for it. It will not be so bad as you think. In fact, later on I can tell you some ways so that you can bring it about quicker, so you won't have to experience any real pain.
Well, that particular line of conversation ended any long term interest in Miss Jeanette. She never would tell me what I was to die of, and when, or how she knew I would be dead. She told me that she wouldn't be interested in dating again, because she didn't want to get involved again with a man, who was dying. I drove home that night shaking my head in disbelief.
Guess what? I didn't die in a few months! Actually, I didn't even get sick. However, some mighty strange things started happening. Dearest Daddy became obsessed with repeatedly quoting the phrase "When Abraham sacrificed his firstborn son Isaac."
Stupid old man . . . you're certainly no Abraham, and I am no Isaac, and if you read the BOOK, Abraham did NOT sacrifice Isaac.
You see, one thing I have repeatedly observed through the years, is that when men give their souls to Satan, they do experience worldly success for awhile, but invariably, the first born child is killed in strange circumstances between the ages of 18-23. I have seen this happen over and over again . . most recently when Mr. Everything son of a powerful family in the county north of here, was killed under suspicious circumstances in Iraq.
On several occasions a weird looking guy carrying a black pouch, stalked me on mountain trails. Sometimes, he was accompanied by a couple of soldiers from the Redstone Arsonal in Alabama. That was a lost cause from the start. No one can catch me in the woods. On blind dates with a couple of nurses, I saw the same guy carrying the same pouch, go into the men's restroom, just before my date stated that she needed to go to restroom, the seductresses would suggest, "why don't I go also?"
Turns out the black pouch contained two hyperdemic needles - one with curare in it to paralyze the victim, and the other with a heart stopper. Both chemicals were rarely, if ever, caught by the superficial autopsies carried out after people have heart attacks. I got tired of the jerk stalking me, so I started going after the weirdo and the soldiers in the woods. It scared the s-t out of them. That problem stopped.
Yep, I didn't die in 1998 or any time since then. However, in September of 1998, the sister-in-law of the senior GBI agent (Georgia Bureau of Investigation) I had found messing in my car in June of 1996 - and then giving a bundle of money to the owner of Johnson Tire in Cartersville - started hitting on me. I didn't know that she was his sister-in-law till later.
Guys are dumb, when it comes to womenz, so she quickly lured me with her feminine charms (you know what I mean) to Rome, GA. She dumped me on our first date after I moved there, New Year's Eve of 1998. Her claim was that the occult had wanted me to move to Rome so I could meet my true love there. I didn't, but also didn't die either! After a year in the city, I moved 50 miles away to get away from their cults - right smack into the heartland of the Fourth Reich!
Had some might unusual experiences since then. Though for the Grace of God go I.
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| MY STRANGEST DATE by forrest gump, jr. |
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