The Anti-Elroy Cop and the Feckless X's Character Transformation

[mallorys_camera]

This is me on the very last day of 2011. I am wearing lipstick, which I don’t usually wear, that makes me look like a garish old crow in a Tennessee Williams play.

I hung out some more with the cop last night. He is very easy to talk to and curiously nonjudgmental given the nature of his job, although he assures me, “I can turn on the Asshole when I have to.” He reminds me of someone although I can’t remember who; our conversations have a very been-there-done-that edge to them that I find remarkably comforting. He doesn’t read, he doesn’t like to go to movies – really, we have nothing in common. He likes to shop. We went to the mall and spent an hour and a half in the kitchen gadget store (he does like to cook.) He wanted to buy me a fancy garlic press I coveted; I wouldn’t let him.

The cop wants me to sleep with him, which is why he hangs out with me. He tells me that most of the women our age whom he’s gone out with have let him know within one or two dates that they were completely finished with sex, and rather relieved that that part of their lives was over. I wonder how common that phenomenon is among women my age? He’s not particularly physically attractive, roughly 50 pounds overweight and most of that in his gut. But looks have never been that big a deal for me. I’ve slept with some remarkably ugly guys in my lifetime. For me the sexual pull is entirely personality-driven. The issue with the cop is that I’m not particularly drawn to his personality either. But I like him, and he would treat me well – he’s a nice guy, not a rotter. And I think it would be good for me to have sex with someone. Would entirely eliminate the last droops of magnetic pull towards the feckless X.

The cop would have been my New Years date, I suppose, except of course he’ll be off baiting traffic checks for unwary drunks.

RTT ended up here last night. I’m not sure whether this is because he really forgot his computer plug as he claimed, or because of the blowout fight he had with Feckless X by phone and by text.
RTT did not do well the second time round on his SATs. Fortunately he only has to send one set of SAT scores to the various colleges he’s applying – I really should say being applied – to. I predicted that, of course. Told him it was a complete waste of time to retake the test – when he took it the first time, he was coming out of a six week SAT prep class. But this he crammed for maybe two days before he sat for the exam but didn’t really have a bedrock of preparation.

In two weeks he’s taking the math Regents – for the third time. If he doesn’t finally pass that, he won’t be able to graduate from high school. Despite my constant nagging, he hasn’t done much studying for that either and math is not a subject I can help him with. I’m really afraid he’s going to flunk again.

I got his third-of-the-way-through-the-term report card, and every single teacher wrote, He’s brilliant but he never completes his class work. Also he quit his job washing dishes at Geezerview. I would have made him quit if he hadn’t quit on his own, his schoolwork needs to come first. But he quit before I got that report card, and he quit for what seemed to me to be frivolous reasons – all his friends there quit so he no longer had anyone to hang out with.

So he told me he had plans to attend some kind of mass party on the Commons tonight. Open bar. I told the Feckless X since Feckless does the physical custody thing on weekends. Feckless immediately texted a tirade to RTT: You fucking twit, you are not going to some sort of open bar on the Commons etc etc. RTT promptly texted, Fuck you. And came back here.

Of course, I don’t want RTT going to some sort of open bar thing on the Commons either. I was actually relieved that B was taking over this weekend so I didn’t have to be the Enforcer. But I have to think there’s a better way to manipulate RTT than to confront him head on about this stuff which only makes him defiant and more determined to do exactly what he wants.

Also B’s demeanor of late has… irked me. All of RTT’s behavioral lapses get blamed on Justin, RTT’s closest friend who happens to be African American. Ben will rant and rave for hours about Justin. RTT was perfectly capable of behaving like a jerk long before he met Justin, I finally texted B last night. It REALLY annoys me when you blame stuff on Justin. Please stop.

Annoys me because it’s part of a trend I see – or imagine I see – in Ben which is that he’s turning into a humorless, racist, self-righteous prig, a character transformation I lay entirely at the feet of the chipmunk-cheeked, button-sewing Jayne LeGro. Ben’s always been a chameleon in terms of his closest relationships. When he fell in love with Sharee, he had to become a junkie because she's a junkie; when he fell in love with me, he had to become a writer, because I’m a writer. I have no idea whether Jayne LeGro is a racist but I do know she’s a humorless, self-righteous prig – how do I know? Because Ben told me – who overuses the expression, “Likely…” – a term Ben now oversalts all his conversations with.

On the other hand, Ben has been a very good friend to me these last six months. I mean he genuinely looks out for me, and we generally have a good time when we hang out together, drinking coffee, playing word games, discussing current events. He’s the custodian and curator of my personal history too – most of which I’ve forgotten myself because I never remember anything if I don't write it down, a trend that's gotten worse as I've gotten older – and has extremely useful insights into my motivations. Far more often than you may think, my motivations are a complete mystery to me. I do think as a friend, he’d do just about anything for me – and has, if it comes to that.

It saddens me to see him turning into a small town bigot.

But there’s nothing I can really do about it. It's what he chose. And I certainly wouldn’t share my perceptions with him.

And I’m still not sure how I’m gonna stop RTT from going to the blowout, alcohol-infused New Years party on the Commons tonight. Except somehow I’m going to.