Yesterday was more of the same – M was distracted when I showed up at the event, turning his back and talking with various people. We ate at the burger joint again and I made conversation with everyone at our table but M. Whatever.
One of the people there had a sewing machine that he’s been trying to sell to us for about four years. I had to work today, so M agreed to find him this afternoon and take a look at it to see if it will do the work we need it to do. Okey-dokie! He called me at work to ask a few questions about it and I told him it sounded like a Good Deal.
M did not give me a clue about his schedule for Sunday, so after a long, very busy day, I stopped at the grocery store, made a run by the local marina to see if he was there after helping a friend bring his boat in (he wasn’t there, so I assumed he did not need a ride back to his truck – no phone call to tell me either way.) and then home. After feeding the animals, I sat down at the computer to see if there were any notes that needed immediate attention. About 15 minutes later M walked in with the sewing machine.
I sat it on the kitchen counter, was immediately chastised for putting a “dirty” object there and he asked if I was going to take a look at it. I had no interest in dealing with it at that moment, but of course I said sure and set it up in the back room. He made some comments, asked a few questions, watched for a minute as I applied oil and went into the kitchen.
As I was threading it up, he asked what was for dinner. I told him fresh pasta with pesto, toast and salad, which started an argument in an instant. He was not in the mood for such simple fare. He had “worked*” all day and was hungry and tired and wanted Real Food. Couldn’t I sex it up a bit? Why do I insist on plain food? Don’t I realize that his tastes are more complex, and so on. I made an angry face and left the room. He muttered, “I have to walk on fucking glass around here…”
And then, “You know, the wives at the Event take excellent care of their men – cooking and serving food, bringing them whatever they need. I wonder what it would be like?” Yeah, my hackles rose.
He went on, “In all the time you’ve been here, cooking dinner is the only thing you have reliably taken on as your own – the other necessary chores will get done or not, but you always cook dinner. Why am I standing here in the kitchen doing this? Wasn’t my day as long and hard as yours? What are you pissed off about?”
“Just what were you saying with that crack about the wives at the Event?” I asked.
“Well, you know me, I state the parameters, both extremes of the situation.” WTF is that supposed to mean? More prattle about how he “has my back” now that I’m working, and how I don’t do anything around the house, blah, blah, blah.
The conversation was going nowhere, so I dropped it. Just too tired to continue such a hopeless exchange.
Later (and after I’d had an Adult Beverage,) he asked me how the sewing machine was. Would it do the work we needed? I said it would and asked how much it cost. I brought him some cash (half the price he stated) and said that we should invest equally in purchases such as this, since it would be for both of us. He refused the money, saying that it was a replacement for the commercial machine he bought me some years ago and then took back to use in a trade with the A** mentioned in another post. Huh? Fuck. Now it’s a Gift. Now it has Strings Attached. It’s a very nice machine, well suited to what I’ll be asking of it, but fuck, I don’t need yet another Gift to deal with.
This will end badly, you can be sure.
* If you can call walking around talking to his fans “work.” I, on the other hand, was on my feet all day on a concrete floor trying my best to produce inventory for the store as we were behind due to circumstances beyond our control. My feet were just shy of numb and I was not in a good mood. No comparison, IMHO.
** It’s a very long story. A is a total scum bag, but he comes across as an upstanding person. Turns out he was selling everything he could in preparation for leaving his wife of nearly 20 years and three teen children for an exotic dancer he was having an affair with. He was selling off his wife’s things and telling her that the people he sold them to (including me) had not paid and so she had no money coming to her. Nice, huh? Plenty of quality people in this community. Not.