The Lost Art of Eye Foreplay
Joseph Triska
What do you think is real or fake in this novel?
Edited by Nichola Tyrrell
Proofread by Julie Lewthwaite
Cover & Interior Art Design: Joseph Triska
Cover & Interior Art – Technical: Craig Randall
ISBN: 978-1-7324755-0-2
Initial Draft Copyrighted © January 2018
Third Printing
Part I – The Game
Chapter 1 – The Letter
Chapter 2 – After the Life-Changing Event
Chapter 3 – Life After Argos
Chapter 4 – It’s Showtime!
Chapter 5 – The Hospital
Chapter 6 – At Home Again
Chapter 7 – Vive la Europe
Chapter 8 – The Legal System
Chapter 9 – Going Back to Normal?
Chapter 10 – There Can be Only One Scenario
Chapter 11 – What Happened?
Part II – The Year of the Gathering
Chapter 12 – The Meeting
Chapter 13 – The Meeting/Government
Chapter 14 – The Meeting/True Rulers of Planet Earth
Chapter 15 – The Meeting/The People’s President
Chapter 16 – The Meeting/Sometime Later
Chapter 17 – The Meeting/Tunneling
Chapter 18 – The Meeting/Later That Night
Chapter 19 – Back Home and a Few More Thoughts
Chapter 20 – The Final Meeting
“When governments fear the people, there is liberty. When the people fear the government, there is tyranny. The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.”
Thomas Jefferson
Part 1: The Game
Chapter 1 - The Letter
2/18/2017
Marietta, GA
Hi Ronnee,
Several sequential events happened recently that I don’t fully understand. You might have experienced some of them. The more I think about them, the more questions I have. After leaving jail and a hospital at the end of January 2017, I went to the Czech Republic for a couple of weeks to forget about everything, refocus and to think about the next steps in my life. After a few days into the trip, everything went back to normal. I feel great again. I also had a lot of time to think about the past thirty-eight years of my life along with some philosophical thinking. Ronnee, I have to tell you about my life. This will hopefully help you understand why things happened the way they did.
Early Life
Joseph T. was born on June 30 1978. His parents – mom, twenty-two, and dad, twenty-three – were young and wanted to enjoy life. They were not fully ready to have a child. His grandmother, forty-one years old, an elementary school teacher, had just given final grades to her class. June 30th is always the last day of school and the beginning of the two-month summer break. A few days after he was born, the whole family, consisting of great-grandmother, grandmother, granddad, mom, dad, and aunt, took him to the summer house, located roughly fifty miles outside of Prague.
Newborn Joseph spent most of the day outdoors, including during naps, so he could listen to the birds and absorb the simplicity and beauty of nature as early as possible. He was breastfed for almost a year. In addition, the women went to the woods on a regular basis to pick berries, so he could get some extra vitamins. They were always cooking and baking, making everything from scratch. Everyone took turns to hold him in their arms and to sing to him before bedtime. He was treated like a prince by four women who loved him and wanted to spend every minute of their free time with him. This lasted for years. He can vaguely remember this, at age four. The women, especially his great-grandmother and grandmother, were in charge of the household and delegated the two men to perform other household duties. The dad, however, mostly went to Prague to do his own thing. This was understandable, since he was only twenty-three.
Joseph was sick a lot from age four to about seven. During this period he suffered from all kinds of medical problems, such as meningitis, pneumonia, appendix removal and countless ear infections, leading to adenoids removal. As mentioned before, he spent most of the springs and summers outside. This led to getting a viral infection from a tick that developed into meningitis. The disease overwhelmed him in the late spring of 1983, when he lived with his mom and stepdad in Prague 8 – Libeň. He was taken to the nearest hospital, Bulovka, located a couple of miles from the house. The child spent over a month fighting for his life, isolated and unable to see his parents, in the infection section of the hospital. He was scared to death every second that he was awake, unable to go to the restroom without nurses’ help. It felt so good to be touched by another human being. He would rather pee in his pants than walk the hallways alone. The building was constructed in the early 1930s. The ceilings were high, and everything was dark, blurry and creepy. The interior design felt cold and unfriendly. This was most likely due to severe hallucinations. After the recovery, he was not the same person. According to Grandmother, the child had slower responses and was not as happy and sharp. There were no responses during the following reflex test; a person sits on a table with legs hanging freely. Then a doctor gently taps a knee with a small hammer and the leg should raise slightly on its own, without any effort. Later in life, Joseph visited many old and historical buildings, but was never as scared. It felt normal going to the newer sections of the hospital, built in the 1960s and 1970s, for examinations and other surgical procedures. It always felt weird driving by the section constructed in the 1930s. Even today, nothing could convince him to venture close by or even look at this building. Coincidently, Reinhard Heydrich, the most hated man in the country, died there of infection about forty years earlier. Look him up. He is the real jewel of humanity. :-(
After getting over the period of sickness, everything changed. Between ages seven to sixteen (1985–94) was one of the happiest periods of his life.
By 1985, his stepdad was a well-established and connected Communist Party member who managed a large restaurant/bowling bar complex in Prague 8. (Please understand that you had to be a party member, regardless of your beliefs, to hold any important position.) The socialist state-owned business model was in reality a mob hierarchy. It was all about favors, bribes, and who you knew. You could steal for yourself as much as possible as long as your superiors were happy. They did not care because they were doing the same thing. It was the only way to make any real money and differentiate from the general population, since private business ownership was illegal. The only problem was that you could not publicly show the money without risking being investigated by the secret police. My stepdad had a nice house, satellite dish, two cars and a summer house in the same village as my grandma, and was able to take a vacation several times a year. He did a great job of staying under the radar.
From a material perspective, as a child, Joseph had all the forbidden products available on the black market – Western toys, clothes, VCR and a large collection of illegal American movies. At least 90% of the country’s population did not live this well.
This was a strange period to live in. I will try to describe it from both a child’s and an adult’s perspective, since they are so different.
A Child’s Life in Communist Czechoslovakia
We, the children, were playing outside most of the time. When parents did not allow us to go out and play, it was usually due to punishment for misbehaving. This was the worst kind of punishment, far surpassing any light physical punishments we often deserved. It was normal to complete homework, go outside and play with countless friends, and return right before dinner. On Fridays and Saturdays, we were allowed to stay out until 10 p.m. (kids from about age nine and up). Throughout the country, there were tens of thousands of kids, boys and girls of all ages, playing together at any given time. Most kids had the same clothes, toys, and bicycles bought from socialist department stores. Your peers judged you by your personality and how you were able to entertain the group, not by what kind of clothes you were wearing, what you owned or what your parents had or did. The social background did not matter since, from a material perspective, everyone was pretty much at the same level. This was true for all age groups until adulthood. The government took good care of all kids. All schools, after-school activities, sports and child/adult health care were available for little or no charge. The Pioneer group (similar to Scouts) organized weekend and two- or three-week summer camps. Joseph went almost every summer to a standing or river rafting camp. You did not have to worry about schools and places where you lived. Bad areas and school districts did not exist. Human trafficking, organized crime, and drugs also did not exist. The whole country was one large playground for kids, surrounded by barbed wire. You were not able to get in or out. It was a pretty large playground. :-) When you drove from Prague, the borders in any direction except east (six hours) were about two hours away. We, the children, were truly free and, due to the lack of law enforcement, were able to get away with almost anything (within reason). I would not trade these memories for anything. I feel sorry for all the kids in the world that were not and will not be able to experience this. This paradise island no longer exists. Here are some stories:
Mother always wanted Joseph to play a musical instrument. While attending second-grade in elementary school, he chose to play piano. Violin was the other instrument considered. His great aunt was a director of a music school, who also gave private lessons. Naturally, she was chosen as the teacher. She was a perfectionist who enjoyed her work very much. The lessons lasted for three years and ended due to Joseph’s lack of interest. In preparation for the end-of-year music exhibition, usually held in a historic downtown Prague theater in front of over a hundred people, he had to memorize a classical music segment about ten minutes long. Joseph always chose Mozart, over Bach, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, and Dvořák. Mozart’s music felt the most natural and created an indescribable pleasure when played. The second event attended during this period was the Prague Spring Festival. He and his mom were going to operas and all sorts of classical concerts for the whole week. Don Giovanni was his favorite opera. At night, after the events ended, the streets were full of people dressed in their best. It was pure beauty to walk the historic city center at night. They always stopped at a café, sat down for a piece of cake and absorbed the incredible atmosphere of the city. Later in life, Joseph always took his new girlfriends for a night walk at around 2–3 a.m. The walk began at Wenceslas Square, led to Old Town Square, continued over Charles Bridge to Little Quarter, and ended at Prague Castle. This is the most gorgeous and romantic walk he has ever experienced. It feels like you are part of the 900-plus year history of the area. You can really feel the city and its ancestors when there is not another soul on the streets except you and your loved one. If you ever visit Prague, this is a must-do.
(I am not the best writer and an even shittier accountant. It is becoming increasingly difficult to write in third person. I will, therefore, write in first person, going forward.)
In the mid to late 1980s, several events occurred that forever changed my life. The VCR became the favorite toy and must-have item in Czechoslovakia. Western and especially American movies, with a few exceptions, were strictly forbidden. A forbidden movie was smuggled over the borders and re-recorded with one voice in the Czech language. The volume of the original actors’ voices was lowered. Then the movie was copied endlessly and distributed to the general population via the black market. Of course, the quality was sometimes very bad. People faced prison sentences if caught with this kind of VHS tape. Some movies, such as The Witches of Eastwick, with Jack Nicholson, passed through a censorship committee and were allowed in the theaters. I remember seeing this movie for the first time when I was about ten years old, at an outdoor movie theatre located a couple of miles from the summer house. The Moon was almost full and the atmosphere was just right to see this movie. It was a very powerful movie that I can see over and over again. I begged my aunt, who is eleven years older than me, to go see this movie with me again. We ended up going several times in a row.
The really good movies, such as the Rambos and Rockys, were not allowed. You could not see them in theaters; however, everybody knew the characters. Everyone talked about Rocky IV once the movie spread around the country. During that time, I was attending a language elementary school where my grandmother was a teacher. I had to travel across half of Prague to get there. I asked people of all ages and genders at subway stations, tram stops or inside a particular public transportation unit: “Have you seen Rocky IV?” The usual response was, “Yes, and he got that Russian bastard really good this time.” (Please note that Czechs and all of occupied Eastern Europe hated the Russian government, not necessarily its citizens.) I even asked my favorite teacher about Rocky IV and received a similar response. Had I told this to the police, his teaching career would have been over.
The whole country and Eastern Europe fell in love with American movies. They fell in love with fairy tales, beautiful ones. The USA had a huge propaganda advantage. Correct me if I am wrong, but I don’t think there were any Russian movies and music the Americans craved. I truly believe VCR was the number one weapon that helped the United States win the Cold War, not the bullshit politicians. The Rambos, Rockys, Terminators, Highlanders, Witches of Eastwicks, Indiana Joneses, Star Wars and many more were the bullets. I wish Antonia was also reading this. She would have agreed with me 100%.
There were other “hot” battles fought during the Cold War. They were fought in the sports arenas, especially in hockey. For example, the 1987 Canada vs USSR World Junior Hockey Championship in Piešťany, Czechoslovakia, still holds the world record for the longest hockey player fight. My parents and their friends were always cheering for the team that played against the Soviets. Sometimes, I asked why they didn’t cheer for the Russians. I never received an answer. Maybe they thought I was not old enough to understand the answer. I asked, because I was receiving conflicting information. At school, we were being told that the Russians would be our protectors and friends forever. I still did not receive much of an answer after the explanation. These really were interesting times to live in. Everything was about sarcasm and double-sided meaning.
On Friday, November 17 1989, the Velvet Revolution started. The first student protest at Národní Třída boulevard in Prague ended when the police attacked the demonstrators. On the following Monday, there were flyers all over the public transportation network urging people to protest. For the next two weeks I went to the protests almost daily, right after school. The demonstrations were held at Wenceslas Square or Leteňská Pláň. I remember this period day by day. The atmosphere was incredible; the whole country was emotionally supercharged and everyone was positive, happy, and excited, especially when discussing this matter. I saw and heard Václav Havel multiple times speaking to the excited crowd. I was hardly able to breathe, my whole body was electrified, and tingled as I tried to absorb every word of Havel’s powerful speech. That night, after the protest was over, I turned on my Sony Walkman, a forbidden product, and listened to Metallica or Michael Jackson, forbidden artists. Forbidden fruit always tastes the best. I felt invincible on my way home.
At age twelve, I would frequently take trips with my fourteen-year-old stepbrother, Patrik, to my stepdad’s summer house. On Friday afternoons, we would persuade my mom to give us the house keys. Then we would get some money from Grandpa. “Grandpa, please give us some money for food. We are going to the cottage for the weekend.” Cigarettes and beer would be the first items purchased at a train station in Prague. Then we would smoke, drink, and play loud punk and heavy metal music on the train. Most of the time the adults would not say anything because they knew what the answer would be: “Fuck off and return to the grave, you old man (or woman).” One particular trip stands out among all the others. As the train was departing, there was a young couple French kissing at the platform. I spilled a beer on their heads out of the slow-moving train. We then threw the empty beer bottles at cars waiting at a railroad crossing. For early teens, this was the zenith of the trip. I don’t have to tell you what we did that weekend. Use your imagination.
It was normal in those days to see young people French kiss on the streets. This was before cell phones and beepers, so boys and girls would meet at squares, subways, or bus stations at a particular time. Often a girl would run and jump into a boy’s arms. Then they would French kiss for a long period of time and not care that the street was full of strangers. “Love really is beautiful,” I said to myself. At this early age (from about nine), I often daydreamed that sometime in the near future I would experience this with my girlfriend.
Oddly, the country was pretty open regarding sexuality, despite the Communist oppression. Semi-nude and fully nude beaches were widespread. I might have been about eight when I first ventured to a fully nude beach. I was shy and kept my swimsuit on. Even at that age, I really enjoyed the view as I was walking across the beach. ;-) Women and girls were sunbathing topless in their front and back yards, while being fully visible from main streets. Kids up to about age six did not wear any swimsuit at all while attending public pools and beaches. Ronnee, I don’t have to tell you any more details, just ask your husband.
The summers were especially great. From early childhood, I spent most of the summers at the summer house. I was outside most of the day riding a bicycle (later motorcycle) and playing with friends. I loved going to the woods with my family early in the morning to pick wild mushrooms. I was taught at an early age to distinguish the poisonous ones from the edible ones. I enjoyed cleaning and cutting the mushrooms that I found. I eagerly watched them being cooked. The Czechs are well-known for picking wild mushrooms. I also enjoyed picking berries. My favorite place was the nearby flooded open-pit granite mine. My friends and I went there almost daily for a swim. I was about nine years old when I started to go there without adults. There were many cliffs of different sizes you could jump from. The highest was an incredibly tall flat wall of rock. I had respect for anyone who jumped from this particular cliff. During the next few years, I was slowly moving up and diving from higher and higher cliffs. At age twelve, I was standing at the top of the highest cliff, looking down and thinking for several hours and then, all of a sudden, I jumped. I flew flat like a bird and, just as I was approaching the water, I pressed my hands to a fist (to break the water, it hurts like hell if done with head only) and folded my body to a perfect dive. The cliff was twenty-six feet high. All my friends were cheering. It felt like I just conquered the world.
In 1998, I went to visit Europe for the first time since moving to the USA. I looked forward to swimming and to jumping a few times at the granite mine, but found the place completely destroyed. I fell apart, sat on the ground and cried for a while. This small piece of nature that I loved, the place that gave me so much, all the beautiful memories, had been destroyed forever. In the mid-1990s, a corporation had purchased the whole area and the mining had resumed.
My Family
Here are a few details about the members of my family…
Mom – I had a good relationship with my mom during childhood and early teen years. My stepdad was hardly around the house. I eventually figured out a way to brainwash her, to a certain degree. I was able to pretty much do whatever I wanted. She doesn’t get along with adults, but she is perfect with small kids. Guys were always taking advantage of her. She was and still is a little crazy. One example: she bought me a motorcycle for my thirteenth birthday, but no helmet. In the USA, I had to help support her until 2005. She doesn’t learn from her mistakes and keeps repeating the mistakes. She keeps calling me her Prince William. That comment pisses me off. I don’t get along with her too well and talk with her for a few minutes a couple times a month.
Sister – I’ve always had a normal brother/sister relationship with her. Unwittingly, while living in the USA, we grew apart. I think this was due to me shielding her as much as possible from all the problems we had. I did not discuss anything with her. In the past few years, we’ve grown closer to each other than ever before. She is not as quiet as she was. She talks and smiles a lot. I think she finally got over the trauma she might have experienced during our early years in the USA.
Dad – I did not grow up with my biological dad. We didn’t have any contact until 1998, when I went to visit him. He is more of a friend than a dad. I feel comfortable discussing any subject with him. He loves the outdoors and nature in general. At times he is sad that he was not able to raise me. Due to his obesity, he hasn’t had a steady job since 2004. He spends most of the day recording interesting movies and TV documentaries regarding every possible subject you can think of. Dad has thousands of DVDs. I just found out that he wants me to inherit that knowledge. I was told the programs were always recorded for me.
Aunt – My aunt is only eleven years older than me. During my baby/toddler years, she played with me like I was her doll. She dressed me in female baby dresses and did all kinds of things with my perfectly white-blond curly hair. Dad freaked out: “I hope that she will not turn him into a gay,” he said many times. She was more my sort of girlfriend than aunt. She took me around a lot, including on dates with her boyfriends. I often abused the situation; one time, I spat into her boyfriend’s soup for no reason. I got a slap on the face from him. She sang to me and wanted me to sing with her. I started to sing, then all of a sudden sang bad words. I loved to provoke her and all adults. Oddly, she always had a lot of patience with me. She is the person who taught me camping, love for nature (especially frogs) and sports. We always played together at the summer house. She is the person who helped me to overcome fear while I was skiing my first black diamond slope. I saw her grow up from a teenager to a woman and a mother. What a pain these older girls are, I often thought. I held her long veil for hours as she was getting married, right next to the Astronomical Clock at the Old Town Square, a really magical place. She truly is an amazing person. I would not be the same person if she had not been around.
Stepdad – My stepdad is a great guy, always friendly, positive, and calm. Milan likes children, animals, and nature. He never mistreated any of us. I lived with him from age four to thirteen. He was not around much, but he always gave us whatever we wanted. We had a great life during that period.
Great-Grandmother and Great-Grandfather – She was born in 1899 and was the first of twelve children. Seven of her siblings died at an early age. She had to work from a young age to help her family. In her early teen years, she worked as a helper at a nearby sugar refinery. The lady of the household gave her meals on a regular basis. She often did not eat them, but brought the food home to help feed her brothers and sisters. The woman at the refinery noticed she was getting thinner and made her eat the meals in front of her eyes. From that point on, she was always giving her some extra food for the family. At age fourteen, she was sexually molested by a priest and has said nothing good about the Church ever since.
Great-Grandma was on the top of the pyramid in the 1930s, married to my great-granddad, who was a colonel in the army. She had servants and was forbidden to work (the norm at that time). Then WWII changed everything. Great-Granddad had to escape to England due to his anti-Nazi activities, consisting of the following. . . Early in the war, he worked as an accountant and was in charge of ordering food for the nearby concentration camp, Theresienstadt (Terezín). The food was ordered based on the inmate population; however, the calorie intake allowed per person was way below the survival level. He cooked the books and more food was smuggled in. The Nazis eventually found out and Great-Grandmother and her two kids were on their own. She was not a quitter and continued to smuggle food in much smaller amounts, by hiding the food in a stroller with Grandmother in it. When the guards were not looking, she passed the food to the inmates. One time a guard saw her and pistol-whipped her. I am 100% sure he would have killed her if my grandma had not been present. My grandmother said Great-Granddad was a patriot: “As we were walking through the town, the bells rang. My father told me this is to honor all the fallen soldiers. We then stood straight in silence for few minutes while he was saluting the whole time.”
One more WWII story: there was a Hitler Youth training camp based at a castle close to the town where the family lived. These thirteen–seventeen-year-old kids were the worst of the worst. They were brainwashed by the regime from an early age and knew nothing other than Nazi Germany. One example: you could get stabbed for no reason if you walked by them and they didn’t like you. They were frequently walking around the town and terrorizing the population. The regular German army personnel didn’t do this. As the Russian army was approaching, these “kids” refused to leave their castle, even after the German army was long gone. I think they really thought they were invincible and the inferior Russians could not defeat them. They were, of course, all arrested. Great-Grandma worked as a nurse and the hospital had a severe shortage of nurses due to the large influx of the “walking skeletons” from the nearby camp. They were not allowed to enter the general population. They were only able to drink liquid food; any solid food would have killed them. In addition, most of them were diseased. She went to the prison to get a small group of the former Hitler Youth kids to help her to take care of the sick people. “I have six bullets in my pistol. If any one of you tries to run, I will kill all of you,” she said, in a strong voice. Nobody ever ran. The kids were made to take care of the “walking skeletons.” The US intelligence community knew the camps existed. I don’t understand why the camps or the surrounding infrastructure were never bombed. I guess anything is possible in the name of the national security.
After the war, my great-granddad returned home, but died of cancer a few years later, at age forty-nine. This was sort of a “blessing” since the Communists persecuted anyone who’d served in the Western armies during the war, including their families. The authorities felt sorry for the widow and her small child and she was left alone. Her life turned for the worse when the Communists made the whole country poor by implementing two monetary reforms in the late 1940s and 1950s. Her older daughter, Grandma’s sister, had to support the family for quite a while. Great-Grandma died a happy person, in 1983. I vaguely remember her; she was this sweet old lady that always kissed me, hugged me, and sang to me.
Grandmother and Grandfather – I always felt closer to my grandmother than my mom. As mentioned before, my mom has a certain personality. She was young and not ready to have a child when I was born. I always felt loved more by my grandmother than Mom to a certain age. Grandma is a strong woman and, to this day, is in charge of everything around the household. She kept Granddad under control, since he was a habitual drinker. He was not a drunk. On weekends, he just drank little by little to have a certain buzz. He was always fully functional. He was a sweet person who never yelled or mistreated anyone and eventually always gave in to my grandma’s demands and did whatever she asked him to do. I remember that I kept stealing his empty beer bottles to buy sodas and cigarettes. He was not too happy about that. :-)
Grandma was an elementary school teacher all her life. She loves children. She was my teacher in third grade elementary and I took full advantage of the situation. I entertained the whole classroom on many occasions. They laughed like crazy, my grandma did not. I went to a different class the following year. In early February 2017, I spent a lot of time with her discussing the family’s history. Every time I visit Europe, we have similar discussions. She will be eighty this year. Her physical abilities are in line with her age; however, mentally, she is as sharp as ever.
Great-Uncle and Great-Aunt – He was born in 1922, she in 1929. They dated from 1944 and stayed together until 2003, when my great-aunt died. He was her first and last. She was an even stronger woman than my grandmother. My great-uncle had it much worse at home than Granddad. They experienced the Nazis, Communists and the Velvet Revolution. Here are some stories:
My great-uncle was a chemistry college student in 1942. After the Heydrich assassination that year, the whole class next to his was taken to the Terezín concentration camp to build a swimming pool. The Nazis closed every single college and university in the country. I am not sure why the camp needed a swimming pool. This was probably the only concentration camp that had one. After the pool was completed, the whole class, guys and girls alike – his longtime friends – were killed. This story was known to me when I visited the camp a few years ago. When I saw that pool, my head began to spin, body started to shake a little and I started to have a stomachache. I had to leave the place as fast as possible. After the family recovered from the monetary reforms of the 1940s and 1950s, my great aunt and uncle had a great life. He was a biochemistry scientist and she was a director of a music school. They were allowed to travel to the West and had no shortage of money, including hard currencies. I loved spending time with them, especially at their cottage in the middle of the woods. As I am thinking about this, every generation had their summer house or a cottage. I have only great memories of them.
An Adult’s Life in Communist Czechoslovakia
Life was drastically different for an adult when compared to a child’s life. An adult, or anyone else for that matter, was not allowed to speak against the one-party government. You were not allowed to form an opposition group or to protest or complain at all. In the name of national security, people were being arrested and persecuted because a neighbor complained. This was very true in the 1950s, not so much in the 1980s. People were only allowed to travel to other communist countries. Only the Communist elite or important people were allowed to travel to Western countries. You were not allowed to bring back certain items across borders when returning back from both Western and Eastern countries. From East Germany, for example, all baby clothes were being confiscated and fines issued. Car interiors were totally disassembled upon the slightest suspicion that you might be smuggling forbidden items. It happened to my stepdad. This reminds me of War on Drugs, a National Geographic TV series filmed on the US–Mexico border. There were no choices and the advertisement industry was nonexistent. There was an abundance of most Eastern-made products, but everything was one brand. Department stores, food stores, electronics stores, and car dealerships were carrying exactly the same products.
If you wanted Western-made goods, you had to come to a special government store called Tuzex, where “bony” coupons, initially purchased with hard currency, were needed to buy goods, or you had to use the black market. The prices were ridiculous. Here are some examples: in the late 1980s, the average monthly pay per person was about 3,000 Czechoslovak crowns. Rent was about 400, a weekly grocery bill for a family of four about 300, shoes, 80, a nice dress, 200. New car – about 50,000. So, very similar to USD, in today’s money. The prices, however, were for Eastern-made goods. All Western goods were smuggled across the border. A larger item meant a higher price, since it was more difficult to smuggle in, and you often had to bribe border guards. The risk of selling on the black market also increased prices, since stiff prison sentences were often imposed. Here are some examples: Sony VCR – 40,000–60,000 crowns, VHS tape: 500, original Metallica record: 700, cassette tape: 150, Levi’s jeans: 1,500, used Mercedes C-Class: 200,000, skateboard: 1,000. So, when someone like my stepdad had a VCR with thirty VHS tapes, you were easily looking at 70,000 crowns’ worth of stuff.
The worst was that people were not allowed to own businesses and differentiate in any way. The pay for each possible work task, regardless of performance, was written in tables. No matter how hard you worked, the pay was the same. As a result, a cab driver, butcher, produce store manager and black-market dealer were all making way more money due to stealing than a doctor, engineer, or teacher. Everyone of adult age had to work, otherwise a prison sentence would follow. A mandatory ID card was stamped by your employer. Random ID card checks were common on the streets and highways.
The TV had two channels, mostly consisting of Eastern-made programs. Only a few US shows/movies pertaining to certain subjects were allowed: anything related to the Civil War, KKK, blacks struggling in ghettos, racial inequality, poverty, natural and man-made disasters. In the 1980s, this no longer worked, the population was madly in love with Rockys and Rambos. It’s a shame they don’t make movies like this anymore.
My Last Years of Life in the Czech Republic
Mom secretly divorced my stepdad in 1991. As I found out later, he let her stay in the house after the divorce since she had two kids. My seven-year-old sister was his. This arrangement ended after her boyfriend moved in and started stealing and selling our household items. In January 1993, we moved with him to an apartment. They were, of course, unable to keep up with the rent so we moved to a weekend cottage my mom purchased after the divorce. The cottage was located in the secluded woods of Vltava River canyon, about one hour from Prague. The nature was gorgeous; however, the cottage did not have electricity or running water. It had a full bathroom (you had to manually bring in water from a nearby well) a septic system, kitchen, two bedrooms and central coal heating system. It was livable. The boyfriend happened to be a Czech/US citizen, so we moved to the USA in fall of 1993. It did not work out. We returned a of couple months later and lived in the cottage again. This time my stepdad got pissed (don’t blame him) and took my sister away from Mom. She realized she could no longer live like this and dumped her boyfriend. We moved to a homeless shelter for single moms where we stayed until May 13 1994, then we moved permanently to the USA.
From 1992 to May 13 1994, it was strangely one of the best periods of my life. I was rarely home and spent most of the after-school time with friends. On weekends, I usually crashed at a girlfriend’s house. The girls did not care that I lived at the homeless shelter. It was about us wanting to have fun and not about money. The girls liked me for who I was. It was about pure love. Parents of the seventeen–twenty-year-olds did not care, but I had to sneak in when a girl was fourteen–sixteen. During this period, I always made and fully enjoyed money. A few friends and I were frequently hanging out in the Stardust slot-machine casino located in a subway station below the main Florenc bus terminal. I was involved in two scams. There was one particular slot machine, “Flash,” among many roulette and video poker games, that was vulnerable to a scam. You were able to win in two ways: by rolling bars for an instant win or by accumulating chances/winnings that were later taken by pressing a button positioned at the far left of the machine. Adults at that time didn’t speak much English. I (sometimes with a friend) would lure people to play the machine while at the same time covering the chances button with a hand. When the person walked away, I would than withdraw the accumulated winnings, usually between 200 to 1,000 crowns. Not bad for a middle school kid, since the average monthly pay was about 8,000. Of course, I had to pay off the bartender, usually 20%.
Second scam: my older friends, aged seventeen–thirty-five, were playing a street shell game at the subway station upper corridor near the Stardust casino, or on walkways above ground leading to the bus terminals. Multiple-player stands were strategically placed in the area. Rules of the game: a person (skořápkář in Czech) moves around a ball hidden in one of three cups and the player has to guess where the ball is in order to win. Nobody ever won. The guys hired undercover fake players (volavky in Czech), such as dirty construction workers and old retired women, to lure in unsuspecting real players. If a person ran out of cash, gold, in the form of wedding rings, necklaces, and other jewelry, was frequently used and accepted. On many occasions, I saw women crying after losing their wedding rings. I didn’t give a shit, greed was good. It was a fucking gold mine, especially on Fridays when people returned home to all parts of the country with pockets full of cash after working in Prague for a week. The guys hired me and my peers to watch for police, paid about 500 crowns for four hours. A skořápkář would easily earn 20,000–30,000 per stand on a Friday afternoon. If police were approaching the subway corridors, I would yell a code word, “Gajá,” and everyone would run away. I was questioned by cops on many occasions, but nothing ever happened since I was under fifteen and not legally responsible for my actions. The older friends always treated me with respect and took me in as their equal. It felt like I really belonged to their group.
We fully enjoyed the fruits of newly acquired capitalism. We blew money like crazy; we frequently drank at the casino, dined at the nearby Hilton Hotel, drove cabs around the city, bought fireworks, the older guys were buying hookers (perfectly legal in the Czech Republic), went to bowling bars and hotel pools. The city belonged to guys like us. The law changed in late 1993 and the shell game was no longer a ticketed offense, similar to a parking ticket, but became a criminal offense. After a massive undercover police operation, most adult friends went to prison and it was all over. At least I still had the “Flash” slot machine scam going on. I had to adjust my spending habits, since I was only making about 5,000 per month and my “prison” friends were no longer paying for most of the fun activities. I always tried to help my mom and gave her about 40% of what I made at any given time.
The early 1990s was a period of almost complete lawlessness in Eastern Europe. People were stealing as much as possible of what was left of the state-owned enterprises. The so-called privatization was only for certain people. The same people that stole under communism were allowed to legalize their hidden wealth overnight without any questions asked by the central tax department (IRS in the USA). My stepdad purchased a small hotel and three pubs at the same time. There were almost no consequences for this since so many people, including the politicians, were involved in it. It really was the Wild West.
Life in America – the Early Years (1994–2005)
Unfortunately, Mom started to date her crazy boyfriend again and they came up with a brilliant idea – kidnap my sister and escape to the USA. This was possible as many international treaties between the two countries had not yet been implemented. Mom, again, was not thinking rationally. It was a shame since we were a few months away from receiving a city-owned apartment reserved for single moms. The apartment was not in a ghetto, no different than any other apartments of that time. On May 13 1994, during her scheduled visitation granted by a court, we jumped on a plane and flew to the USA. Atlanta was chosen as the final destination since the plane tickets were the least expensive when compared to other cities. A cab driver took us to a cheap motel called Scottish Inn, on Delk Road in Marietta. Within a few months, my mom dumped her boyfriend and began dating the motel’s manager. This actually worked out well. I was given a job as a maintenance person; I took out garbage, swept a parking lot and cut the grass. The position was paying $80 per week after rent for the room was deducted and Mom worked as a housekeeper a couple of days a week for an additional $80. We had just enough money to eat and buy some clothes once in a while. My mom was always a great and resourceful cook. To this day she can cook amazing meals from nothing.
I started attending Marietta High School in January 1995. It was a culture shock; for the first time I saw students being arrested, dogs searching for drugs and students were hanging out only in their cliques. Except for a couple friends, I kept to myself and tried to learn as much as possible. I frequently used a dictionary to translate the reading material before I was able to learn it. ESOL was the only different class I attended. In the summer of 1995, the motel opened a kitchen to accompany the existing bar. I was given a second job – flip burgers, fry wings, and make sandwiches. The place was successful and remained open after the summer was over. This was great news, since I didn’t have to take out the garbage anymore. Nevertheless, the weekdays were long. I got up at 6.30 a.m. and went to school, then slept for an hour after returning home and worked from 5–11 p.m. I did my homework between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m. On weekends, I mostly slept. I couldn’t date girls at all because we didn’t have a car. The school bus was great, but it was unable to take me to a potential girlfriend. The city had no practical public transportation network. I felt most girls would not want to date me because I was so poor. I didn’t have the time or energy for it, anyway. “What a fucked-up life, what a fucked-up country; a way different country than I knew from my beloved movies,” I often thought to myself. I missed my life and everyone in the Czech Republic. I wanted to go back so badly, but knew I could not. If I did, my sister would have been taken away from Mom. There is no way my mom would have made it in the USA alone. I was always positive and believed our lives would change once we received a green card. I am proud of myself. To this day, I never drank, did drugs (except weed on few occasions) or took prescription medications, such as Xanax. This would probably have helped a lot. I’ve always believed my thinking has to remain “natural,” free of drugs and alcohol, to overcome life’s difficulties.
After two years, we still did not have the green cards. Many African Americans at the Atlanta INS were really making our stay in the USA enjoyable. Not. They were rude, snappy, sarcastic, and were always coming up with additional paperwork demands after each visit. We were not able to defend ourselves in any way. We were treated as undocumented animals. Maybe they had been taught that this behavior could somehow make up for all the injustices that happened to their people in the past four hundred years.
The motel manager boyfriend dumped my mom and we were thrown out on the street. She was not able to comprehend what was happening and went back to see him. He called the cops and she was thrown in jail for trespassing. My sister, eleven years of age, and I were left penniless in a motel on Cobb Parkway. Fortunately, the ex-boyfriend prepaid the room for one week. Our grandfather flew in within a couple days, bailed Mom out of jail and took us down to Fort Lauderdale, FL.
Unfortunately, Grandpa, Grandma and two aunts, who moved from Switzerland to the USA in 1980, lived in a two-bedroom house. The three of us had to sleep in the living room. Mom was constantly arguing with all the relatives. Every day at the house was a hell on Earth. I stayed away as much as possible. One day, out of the blue and without any warnings, Mom disappeared from the house and went to Atlanta to see her boyfriend, and was arrested again. It was clear to me that her kindergarten schoolteacher career, that she hoped to restart, was over for the rest of her life. She was such a great teacher. It’s a shame; once again she had made an irrational decision. My aunt found me a part-time job fixing shoes. The shop owner, Dave, was a retired oil man and had a great personality. He taught me a lot. For example: “After you get married, you’ll have sex with your wife almost daily and it’s great. But after a few years, it’s like taking a shit. I know you don’t believe me,” he said on one occasion. I hung around the store as much as possible. We lived a couple miles from a beach and about a mile from my new high school. I often rollerbladed or skateboarded to the beach and the school. I had no friends, therefore mostly kept to myself, and was fascinated by Marilyn Manson, my favorite artist of that time. He is still one of my favorite artists to this day, especially his “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” song. The video clip is great.
Fort Lauderdale High School was a real dump. The Whites were in the minority. I had not seen a real-life Black person until summer 1988. It was full of Haitians, other Blacks, Hispanics and, of course, security guards. Many kids behaved like animals. It felt more like a prison than a school. I missed my old high school in Marietta. I was pissed off, but at the same time felt sorry for the kids. Why not put them out of their misery? I constantly reminded myself of the perfect childhood I had in the communist Czechoslovakia. One day I borrowed Mein Kampf from the school library. The book provided many answers to my confused mind and I felt really excited as I was reading it. I seriously thought about devoting the rest of my life to reinventing the Nazi Party and exterminating all the non-Whites, plus other undesirable elements, such as gays and handicapped people. My dream was to create the socialist paradise/private ownership hybrid totalitarian state for the beautiful Aryan race in the USA and eventually in the rest of the world. I would simply finish what Hitler started. I am not proud of this. I was eighteen, confused, lost and hopeless, without any guidance and hope for the future. This was the answer to my American Dream. I cried a lot in private, was depressed and sexually unsatisfied. At that age, you can only jerk off so many times. The last time I had a girlfriend was in the Czech Republic. My life in the USA started to take its toll on me.
In spring of 1997, we finally received our green cards. The INS in Miami was controlled by Cubans and we were finally treated like human beings. We forgot to submit another green card application because I had reached the age of eighteen. The immigration officer said, “Don’t worry about it,” genuinely smiled and approved my green card application immediately. What a difference, I didn’t think those kinds of people lived in America. I only knew them from the movies. I was hired as a security guard, Mom as a hotel housekeeper, and we moved out of the house at last. After a couple months, we moved back to Atlanta without jobs lined up, but Mom for some reason wanted to go back to Florida. Granddad did not take us into the house, so we drove back to Atlanta the same day. Our car, a 1985 Cadillac Coupe Deville, broke down in Valdosta. It was a real piece of shit, a “grandpa must-have mobile.” I wanted a Honda Civic and, of course, my grandpa said NO. We arrived in Atlanta with about $800 and no jobs. Fortunately, it was the middle of summer. I told my mom in secret, “Let’s go to Walmart and buy a $30-dollar tent and stay in a campground at Lake Allatoona. Let’s not say anything to sister, she is only thirteen. We can bullshit her that we want to camp for a while, since it is such nice weather. As soon as one of us gets a job, we get a motel room.” Within a week, I found a waiter position at Cracker Barrel in Marietta and we moved to the Super 8 on Delk Road. I went back to my old high school to finish my senior year. Mom found another housekeeping job. She was unable to find a teacher’s position due to her criminal record. Mom was unable to comprehend this since, in her mind, she was arrested unjustly. The Super 8 was not much better than the Scottish Inn, next door. I saw in the news that someone was murdered a few doors from mine. There was police tape all over the door. My car was constantly broken into, so I left it open with the windows down.
At age nineteen, I found a waiter job at Houston’s Restaurant on Powers Ferry Road, and finally started to make decent money (average $150 cash per night) and purchased a house. I dated a few girls, but it was always the same story. They cared mostly about themselves and money. One of them was crazy and abusive. I was not able to find a normal girl. I did not feel loved, like I did by the Czech girls. I stopped dating again.
Ronnee, I was getting tired, tired of all this bullshit.
My life was not satisfying me at all. So, I did the following for a few years: I got up at 9 a.m. and went to the gym. I had lunch at 12 p.m. and rode my bicycle by Chattahoochee River. Then I went to the pool to get some tan. And lastly, at 4.30 p.m., I went to work. This is what kept me going. I also travelled to Europe about four times a year and partied like crazy. Every time I went to Europe, it felt exactly like the early 1990s. I slipped into a melancholy after returning from each trip. It got to the point where I was unable to handle any seemingly miniscule tasks, such as finding a plumber to fix a toilet. I had chest pains, sweat on my face and breathed faster. I had to stop and let someone else do it. I was not going to school or doing anything with my life at all. I had two good friends and that was it.
The only exception was the gym and the outdoors. The place felt like home and the people were great. In 1998, I joined Main Event Fitness on Powers Ferry Road, owned by wrestling legend Lex Luger. Within a few years, I met many interesting people, such as Diamond Dallas Page, Kevin Nash, Disco Inferno, and Scott Steiner. I did not have a people’s personality anymore, so I didn’t hang out with them and pursued other opportunities. The only person that was more of a friend was Lex Luger. He had a great business model. The strippers from nearby clubs were given free memberships if they attended so many hours per week. This was brilliant, since it attracted a lot of guys. You could walk in there on Monday morning at 10 a.m. and the place was full of good-looking women. In addition, he had the wrestlers and nitro girls coming in. I felt small among all the meatheads and considered taking a few cycles of steroids to beef up. The good news was that I already had a drug free mindset and personally knew several people that had died due to steroid usage. At my peak, I benched 335 pounds, two repetitions, squatted 395 pounds, 10 times, and curled 60-pound dumbbells 12 times in each hand. I started to feel good about myself again. In 2001, Ted Turner sold WCW to WWE, Luger got into legal trouble (girlfriend overdosed, steroid dealer) and almost went to prison. Fortunately, he was able to find a “good” lawyer and there was no prison time. He was completely paralyzed from a nerve impingement, but fully recovered. He is currently an old, broken man. The gym eventually closed.
My dream at the time was to move back to the Czech Republic. Again, I couldn’t do it because my sister was in college. I wanted her to have a stable home and concentrate on studies. She qualified for the HOPE Scholarship, therefore graduated debt-free. It was such a pleasure to see her graduate. Everything bad that ever happened to us was so worth it.
My life was not bad either. I lived in a decent house, was traveling a lot, worked at the restaurant and sold art on the side. I was selling framed posters of wild animals, scenery, rappers, black Jesuses, Scarfaces, Sopranos and other ethnic art at a gas station (on the street) on Windy Hill Road to our brothers and sisters. For a short period of time, I also sold fake Gucci, Prada, and Ferragamo purses for $30 a pop. I had a fake business license. It worked on the cops, but not on the code enforcement. It lasted for a couple years and it was great. The most I ever made was $1,800 cash one Saturday in 2003, when Atlanta hosted the All-Star basketball game. I sold every single large picture that day. On the street, I met many interesting personalities and started to understand the Atlanta Black community.
I always loved music, all kinds of music. It kept me relaxed and I was always able to escape reality. Anything from classical to heavy metal would do the job. These are my favorite artists, albums and songs:
Metallica’s …And Justice For All album is a masterpiece. There are two songs on this album that stand out: “To Live Is To Die” and “Blackened.” It feels great listening to those two songs. The first thirty-five seconds of “Blackened” is the most amazing musical segment (including classical) I have heard in my entire life. It feels like I am in a different dimension, especially when it’s played loud. I have my eyes closed, can barely breathe and my whole body slightly shakes and tingles. I highly recommend watching the 1989 Seattle “Live Shit: Binge & Purge” concert. This is the raw, pure, young, crazy and uncorrupted Metallica at its finest. It is a couple years before the commercial success of the Black album. After that, the band gave in to the music industry’s demands to appease the mainstream public. The core fans were sold out and the band was never the same. Other great bands of this era are: Slayer – the Reign In Blood album, and especially the “Angel of Death” song – Kreator, Sodom, Sepultura, Megadeth, and Helloween.
And then, for no reason at all, with the flip of a switch, while listening to the above bands, I started listening to the following music:
Roxette’s Joyride album; Bonnie Tyler, “Total Eclipse of the Heart;” Belinda Carlisle’s songs, “Heaven is a Place on Earth” and “I Get Weak;” Bryan Adams’ songs, “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You” and “All For One;” Bon Jovi, “Always;” Guns N’ Roses, “Don’t Cry;” Enigma, “Return to Innocence;” Cindy Lauper; Meatloaf; Cinderella; Scorpions, “Send me an Angel” and “Still Loving You;” Def Leppard; Aerosmith; Queen; and, of course, Michael Jackson. Michael is the perfect by-product of capitalism. He was at the right place at the right time. He is the artist for all people. I have the utmost respect for him. He changed the world.
After listening to the above musical combination, I am in a perfect emotional harmony and can sleep like a baby. I have sweet dreams on many nights.
And there is one exception to the above. It is The Smashing Pumpkins band, with Siamese Dream, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, and Gish albums. Filter and Bush are two other bands. These are the only three bands that have the perfect combination of soft and hard music. I can listen to these songs over and over again, almost endlessly.
Later Years – 2005 to the present
I met my wife in the fall of 2005. She was already packed and ready to go back home to the Czech Republic. It was love at first sight and we got married in July 2006. I knew my life had to change in order to keep her. I constantly reminded myself of what she would expect Mr. Perfect to do. I was hiding my cycles of sadness very well and was not saying much about my past life. I pretended to be this outgoing, friendly, and social person. Inside of me however, it was extremely difficult to meet new people and start relationships. I hated to network. I did not want to know people that I knew were never going to be my real friends. I resisted social media for as long as I could without becoming known as “weird.” This is the main reason I chose to study accounting over professional sales. What a mistake, as I later discovered.
I went to Kennesaw State in 2009 and graduated in 2011 with a 3.6 GPA. I had to work full time. My first daughter, Teresa, was born in 2009. My wife got a job as a flight attendant. Life was great, the two and later three of us frequently travelled to Europe for free.
Shortly after graduation in May 2011, I found a job in indirect tax at Thomson Reuters. The tax division was purchased by KPMG two months later. The Big Four accounting firms are a classic pyramid scheme. The bottom 90% of the employees are just numbers, expendable and replaceable at any given time. Those employees are worked to death without the slightest consideration regarding their health and general well-being. During the tax season, sixteen-hour days are the norm. It is all about deadlines and the mighty dollar. Not all was bad. I learned a lot and met many interesting people. Most of my co-workers were hard-working people willing to step up and help others on their own, when needed. I liked the people but hated the work culture.
In late summer of 2014, I received two simultaneous offers through a local placement agency specializing in finance. I chose to work for a company called Immucor, a medium-size medical manufacturer. I was hired by a very attractive lady named Leah. She was in her late forties, had been married for twenty years and had two daughters. I am not sure about the marriage. Her husband never took her on vacation without her in-laws. I started to like her at the initial interview. There was longer than normal eye contact between us on several occasions. It did not feel like an interview at all. It felt like a nice conversation with a sweet lady.
I remember my first day at the office like it was yesterday. I was waiting in front of the finance section of the building. And there she was, opening the glass front door, wearing a certain dress. She looked absolutely stunning. Ronnee, the dress was the same length as the white skirt you wore on many occasions at lunch. The dress was not long, but not too short, either. She knew exactly what she could get away with. In my mind, it was a welcome party exceeding my wildest expectations. At first, I tried not to get distracted too much. She was still my boss and I wanted to do my duties as best I could. I had to learn the processes as fast as possible since the temporary person was leaving soon. Therefore, I kept to myself and focused on the work. Leah approached me and wanted to flirt on many occasions. I liked it, I liked it so much that I was unable to react in the way she would have expected me to. I mostly kept silent. I’d never experienced flirting in my life (way different from when you are fifteen years old). It was so new to me. It was gorgeous, electrifying, an indescribable feeling.
On a daily basis she smiled at me, was relaxed and made me feel great about myself. She eventually stopped the verbal flirting. We never discussed job performance. It was always understood that I would do my part. She did not have to supervise me. In her office, I really enjoyed us having prolonged eye contact accompanied by silence. It was perfect, since she kept the window blinds mostly closed. On one occasion, I was sitting there across her desk. I started to undress her using my eyes only. I moved very slowly from her waist until our eyes met. I had a feeling that being any closer, something magical would have happened between us. I’ve always felt there is a deeper connection once you look through the eyes of a person. This was the longest eye contact I had experienced to that day. It felt so good, until I was unable to take it any longer. I was the first to move my head. She did the same and smiled a little in a very satisfied way. This only happened one time.
In May, a few weeks before my vacation, I asked Leah to have lunch with me. Oddly, the two of us had never had lunch alone. Her face froze and eyes widened. “I can’t today,” she replied, in a surprised way.
“Let me know of a good time,” I said to her in a non-caring way. She never brought it up again.
I returned from the European vacation in early June 2015 and wanted to see Leah to tell her about my trip. I missed her since we hadn’t talked for almost two weeks. As soon as I entered her office, I noticed the pictures of her daughters were no longer there. “Hi, Joseph, how was your trip? My last day at Immucor is in two weeks, sorry,” she said, without any kind of emotion.
All of a sudden, I felt a huge weight on my shoulders, I could hardly keep my eyes focused. The world collapsed around me. I was in a twilight zone. Of course, I pulled myself together fairly quickly, then asked her a few questions, wished her good luck and left the office. I knew in the back of my mind this might happen someday. “Why so soon, why this soon? She promised a few weeks ago to teach me corporate income tax,” I thought to myself. In those two weeks, I had difficulty concentrating and completing everyday work-related tasks. At home, my mind was somewhere else until my wife and aunt, who was visiting from the EU, asked me what was wrong. I kept waking up several times a night. During this period, I realized that I had fallen in love with Leah a long time ago. My mind was in a great dilemma; should I tell her about my true feelings or should I continue to maintain our professional relationship? I chose to maintain the current relationship and asked her the next day, “Leah, I would like to work for you again. Once you settle in, please let me know if there is an open position on your team.” She smiled a little and explained the circumstances of her new company, PulteGroup. Due to the corporate headquarter relocation from Michigan to Atlanta, a brand-new tax team was currently being built. “Director of Federal Tax and Audit” was her new title. She was a manager in her present position. Leah had already hired her tax manager, Corey. “He is great,” she said, and smiled again.
In early July 2015, about a week into her new job, I received an email from Leah asking if I would like to interview at PulteGroup and work for her again. I could not believe this and read the email several times. The answer was, “Yes.”
On the day of the initial interview, Leah greeted me at the lobby reception area. I had not seen her for several months prior to this moment. Our eyes met at full stare for several seconds at close distance of about a foot. We did not blink at all. It was hot, lustful, and exciting. We were so in tune with each other. “Was this the interview?” I thought to myself. The interview process was a joke. Everyone was really friendly and I was not asked any technical questions. It didn’t feel like an interview at all. Everyone knew I wasn’t qualified for the position. Corporate income tax is way different from sales/use and property tax.
My first day at PulteGroup was on October 19 2015. I was hired as a tax specialist and had an exciting career ahead of me. My mentor/teacher was the person I was in love with. “Perfect, nothing can go wrong.” Those and similar thoughts were constantly racing in my head. I was really excited, but nervous at the same time. I was looking forward to having a nice conversation with Leah. Oh, it was so long since the two of us had spoken in private. I had a brilliant plan. I was going to thank her for hiring me and offer to buy her lunch. We were finally going to have a private moment together, away from the office. I was so sure the answer would be “yes” since she indirectly already promised me shortly before departing Immucor.
All this went to shit; during our conversation in her office she wanted to flirt verbally. Again, my responses were the “silence.” After several attempts, she was irritated and gave up. I proceeded with my plan and asked the question. She gave me the “What the fuck are you thinking?” look and I left her office shortly after, disappointed and embarrassed. “I failed my teacher again. She was probably looking forward to finally flirting with me verbally. What a disappointment. I fucked up so badly. Why was I so preoccupied with that stupid lunch?” These were my confused thoughts. From that point on, we hardly ever spoke.
Manager, Corey, was in Leah’s office daily. They spoke for hours and had a great time. Unfortunately for me, my cubicle was close by and I was forced to listen to the conversations. I was not jealous of Corey. He was a great person with an amazing personality. I was more disappointed in Leah; she was the director and able to set her own rules. To this day, I can’t figure out how she was able to get me the job. It was a great job and I was not qualified at all. She knew that I enjoyed talking with her. She never invited me to come to her office and talk for at least a few minutes on some sort of regular basis. I understood that I was not working for her directly and things were not going to be the same as before.
I was four levels below her and, of course, was not able to “hang out” in her office. The VPs, other directors, and managers surrounded her office. At Immucor, it had just been the two of us. I missed that setting so much.
The position involved substantial travel to Michigan until March 2016, the deadline for legacy to current tax team transition. I felt bad for the Michigan team, especially after I met everyone in person, because they all were losing their jobs. This was due to the following reason. Also, here is some background info on the company.
Bill Pulte founded the company from nothing in the 1950s. He built the first Pulte house and sold it for $10,000. The company grew to become the largest residential builder in the USA, with over $6 billion annual revenue in 2015. Bill always placed strong emphasis on his employees. It was not unusual for someone to work at the company for thirty years. Pulte was always a Michigan company, a great company to work for. It answered the “American Dream” question for many people. Bill retired from active operations in 2010. A couple years after his retirement, Richard Dugas Jr, CEO since 2003, announced behind Bill’s back that the company would be moving to Atlanta. He made the announcement in the Michigan office, in front of all the corporate employees. It was a short announcement and he and his security guard left abruptly. According to rumors, Richard wanted to live in Atlanta to pursue a career in politics. Some of the employees were offered jobs in Atlanta. Who would want to move? Especially if all their relatives lived close by. None of the eighteen tax department employees, including the VP, accepted offers. Ronnee, after the facts became known to me, I wanted this guy to disappear from Pulte as fast as possible. It appeared Richard didn’t care about his Michigan employees. They all were just numbers to him. He cared about himself and apparently only loved himself. In Atlanta, he hired a custom builder and not PulteGroup to build his mansion. That is like Ford’s CEO driving a Ferrari to work. It was an insult to everyone at Pulte. It makes me sick. In my opinion, Richard was the worst of the worst.
By January 2016, everyone in Atlanta was hired. The group was getting along really well and everyone had a great personality, an unusual feature for a tax accountant. The last trip to Michigan was in January 2016. This was the best trip to date. Apart from work, it looked like Leah and I would finally open up to each other again. Flirting aside, it was necessary, so we would be able to work together going forward. About eight of us went to a karaoke bar. Leah tried to verbally flirt with me for the last time. I blew it again. She spent the rest of the evening around Corey. I played pool with a manager named Rick. The next day, an even smaller group went skiing. Leah and I finally spoke in a friendly and relaxed way on ski lifts and in the cafeteria. This was the best day at Pulte so far.
The first day after we returned from Michigan, I went to see Leah in her office. “Can you please consider mentoring me? I know we talked about it before,” was the initial question.
“Yes, like I will everyone else. You need to get with the managers and do a good job if you want to score some points with me,” she replied. We had never had a performance-related discussion before. This threw me off, but I kept pushing my luck.
“We had a great relationship at Immucor and I miss it.”
She smiled to herself and said, “So you’re not getting it, right?” I could not believe my ears. We talked about a few more things and I left her office.
At that point I realized she may have actually enjoyed having me around. She knew I needed her and couldn’t do anything about it. Every day at that office was emotional torture. She had to know I heard most of her conversations. There is only so much a person can take. Everyone has a breaking point. “Maybe if I tell her how I feel about her, she would figure out a way of not hurting me anymore,” I said to myself, many times.
On Wednesday, January 23 2016, first thing in the morning, I remember the following conversation word by word, like it happened yesterday: “Leah, I need a few minutes of your time.”
“OK,” she said. I closed the door and we sat down.
“I started to have feelings for you in January, a year ago,” I said.
“Really, you did?” was her initial response as she smiled a little.
“Yes, I did, and I was hiding those feelings as much as I could. You are married, I am married, that sort of thing. Then you left and just the thought that I would not be able to see you and talk to you was overwhelming. I actually thought more about you than the job. What a mistake! When you hired me for the second time, I was not able to handle the situation and look what happened. I am not sure when the last time was that this happened to you, but you can’t even think clearly. The last time it happened to me was with Romana, ten years ago, and I ended up marrying her. With you, it was never about promotions, scoring points, and money.”
“Well, thank you for telling me this. I have to think about what to do next,” she said, as her body started to shake a little bit. She then reached into her drawer, took and opened a bottle of pills, and shoved the bottle into her mouth. She then ran outside, probably to a restroom.
Not knowing what to do, I went back to my desk. In a few minutes, I realized I had said a little too much. I wanted to see if she was OK and went back to her office. She was resting her head on a desk so I was unable to see her face. “Please don’t do anything. I’ll get together with the managers and stay out of your way as much as possible. I am over this,” I said. She then slowly raised her head up and down in agreement and was crying silently. I tried to keep cool as much as possible and continued with daily tasks. I periodically glanced into her office to make sure she was not overdosing on those pills. I hoped she didn’t swallow any.
The next morning the VP of tax, Kim, called me into her office. She calmly and in almost a friendly way asked about the incident. I truthfully explained the situation with as little detail as possible about the feelings I had for Leah when she left Immucor.
“But you don’t have those feelings for her anymore, right?” Kim asked.
“That is correct, I don’t,” I replied.
“Good, because she does not have those feelings for you and even if she did, you would both be fired. She can’t manage you anymore. Rick will be your new manager, effective immediately. Nobody will know the details and we will move forward.”
I could not believe I wasn’t fired. That outcome was expected 100%.
After this conversation, I kept to myself and concentrated on work. Leah, however, was walking around the office in a fast, almost irritable manner. You could tell she was not doing too well. I hoped she would not fall apart. On Friday afternoon, at 3 p.m., she had a meeting with Corey and my new manager, Rick. I am not sure what was discussed, but nobody returned to their desks and it was already way past 5 p.m.
On the following Monday, Corey and Leah walked in at the same time. Leah took a much longer route around half of the floor so she did not have to pass my cubicle. (This continued almost every day.) I knew she had broken down and told the details to Corey and Rick. I could see it in their eyes, the way they were looking at me. I was able to see the fear in their eyes. At that point I knew my days at Pulte were numbered.
It was a fucked-up situation; a director was accommodating an entry-level employee four levels below hers by taking a longer route around the floor to her office on a daily basis. All communication, verbal and written, went indirectly via managers. I was not allowed to enter her office under any circumstances. It felt like she had an office restraining order against me. I was really sad and felt awful that things had turned out this way. From that point on, I was in pure survival mode. I tried to maintain an image of an outgoing employee fully devoted to his work. I went out with some members of the tax team to lunch almost every Friday. I helped everyone as much as possible. This lasted until the middle of March.
On March 17 2016, the whole tax department was scheduled to have a working lunch with the CEO, Richard Dugas. The whole team, especially the VP, Kim, was excited, but nervous at the same time. It is unusual for the CEO of such a large company to devote two hours of his or her time to such a small group. The meeting was held at the main conference room next to the CEO’s office. The meeting was a lunch/PowerPoint presentation hosted by Richard and, lastly, questions asked by employees directly to the CEO on any subject.
I had one question prepared: “As a leader, are you still continuing to learn and develop or are you reaching, or have you reached, a certain point where you can say to yourself, ‘I’ve seen it all, there is nothing that can surprise me anymore.’” To this day, I don’t know why I prepared such a long question.
My turn came and I asked the question. “As a leader, are you still continuing to learn and develop or are you reaching, or have you reached, a certain point where you can say to yourself—”
Richard abruptly interrupted me and made the following comment, “I am one foot in the grave.”
I immediately began to laugh. It was a genuine laugh but I laughed loudly. Out of the eighteen-person tax department, I was the only one who laughed.
I was fired the next day. They were not able to fire me for that reason, therefore a couple of reasons were made up: 1) I described in detail what my wife and I were doing in a Jacuzzi while vacationing in the mountains. Not true. I only said to Corey and Rick that we were playing in the Jacuzzi and to use their imagination for the rest. Anybody can play in a Jacuzzi. This was clearly a gray area. 2) I showed a picture of my naked wife to a manager named Phil. Untrue, I showed him a picture of my wife dressed in lingerie. This was a Victoria’s Secret picture mailed frequently via catalogs. I knew I was being fired, but maintained my position in a meeting with the HR Director. When I left the building, it felt like a heavy boulder just fell off my shoulders. I felt so light and free. I was so happy this bullshit was finally over. When I arrived home, I broke down and cried loudly. I realized that I would never speak with and see Leah again. It is extremely difficult to get rid of those feelings, no matter how hard you try.
On Monday, March 21 2016, Pulte’s board director, James Grosfeld, Bill Pulte and his grandson had a private meeting with Richard Dugas to tell him to step down by the end of May 2016 or “There would be a war!” It was all over the news. It gave me such pleasure to see this person go one business day after he fired me. All the legacy Michigan employees finally got their revenge. Bill Pulte lost a few battles, but ultimately won the war.
The next few weeks were not easy. I was unemployed, unable to focus, and thought about Leah on many occasions.
One day, I received a call from the same recruiting agency that arranged the 2014 interview at Immucor. I was told that a company named Argos was looking for someone to be hired immediately with no interview. The position was temp to perm. It was strange and I was skeptical at first. A woman named Sue would be my manager. “Great, I can’t interview at this stage and can’t focus on anything anyway. Maybe she’ll give me a break, she is a woman,” I thought to myself. I called back the agency and accepted the position. Going back to normal was proving increasingly difficult. I was thinking about Leah on a daily basis. I managed, however, to pull myself together. Sue was a great manager. She was fair, helpful and had a great personality. I really enjoyed working for her. We spoke almost every morning about subjects not related to work. This helped me to stay focused and to think positively.
Argos is a Colombian company with a slightly different work culture than your typical American corporation. The employees were a mix of US-born and legacy Colombian-born people. The people, especially the Colombians, were more relaxed and friendly. The place was full of good-looking women. The Colombian employees were taking turns working in the USA, you always saw new faces. Oh, the women were so hot. I wished I was working in Colombia, where the labor laws were so different compared to the USA. “It would be so easy to get in their panties.” I questioned myself liked this several times. I loved the place. It almost felt like being in Europe. One odd thing was the cafeteria. It was located on the main floor (out of two) and was the only place that had a microwave. If you brought a lunch from home, as I did most of the time, you had to go there to warm it up. I went there almost every day and noticed that between 12 p.m. and 1 p.m., pretty much the same twelve people were there on any given day. Among the group, there were four women. They all looked different and beautiful in their own way. One of them looked like she was in her late thirties to early forties and had a distinct European look. The kind of look I was used to when living in the Czech Republic. She was very attractive. It later turned out that she was the company’s attorney.
I went to the cafeteria almost daily but never introduced myself to the four women. I kept to myself, as I was trying to get over Leah. Until one day, about two months later, Sue was at the cafeteria and introduced me to the group. We talked ever since. At first, we would say “Hi” to each other and say a few sentences. In a few weeks, the European lady, named Ronnee, pulled her chair away from the group and sat with me at a table right next to the two other women. From that point on, the conversations intensified. Gradually, we spoke about anything, you name it. I was having lunch with one or more of the women three times a week. It was like a lottery. I never knew who was going to be there. I felt nervous. I loved feeling nervous, excited, and unprepared for the conversations with any of the women. Here is some background on my female friends.
Ronnee – Attorney, forty-eight years old, married with three kids, and husband from Denmark. She is very intelligent, always positive and smiling. She looks absolutely gorgeous. She is the sweetest person I’ve met in my life. I can’t even describe the feelings I had every time I saw her. We have a lot in common, since her husband has the exact same views as I have on social aspects of life. He is skinny and blond, just like me. I loved talking with her. The conversations were sweet and spicy when we were alone. I felt comfortable discussing any subject with her; anything from everyday problems to giving birth and to love. I was never this comfortable with anyone in my life. I enjoyed the many occasions when she teased me with her short skirt. She always looked directly into my eyes.
Jessica – Branding and Communications Manager, thirty-two years old, married with no kids, has three dogs, husband is an IT professional. She is extremely smart with instant reactions and opinions on any subject discussed. Many times, I had difficulty keeping up with the conversations. We flirted a few times; however, I always had a hard time getting to know her better. I was unable to see through her eyes as she wore glasses. It’s a shame since her face is so sweet. She has nice soft reddish hair. She was always friendly, happy, and forthcoming. I really felt comfortable being around her. She is one of those rare people you could trust with your life.
Christine – Credit Manager, forty-one years old, married with two kids. Many times, it appeared that she was the leader of the group. She talked a lot and had many great stories. I feel sorry for her because she had a rough childhood. I never found out the details, but I have a feeling it was pretty bad. She has nice dark and curly hair, thick eyelashes and beautiful large brown eyes. I loved when our eyes met at full stare, multiple times. On one occasion, the stare lasted more than five seconds, probably more like ten seconds. I started to feel excited and nervous. She, however, was the first to look elsewhere. She genuinely smiled after this happened. I always loved to see her smile and being happy.
Antonia – Over forty, married with two kids, if I remember correctly. I only had lunch with her a few times before she left the company. It was always fun when the two of us talked. We have a lot in common, since both of us grew up in Eastern Europe. She definitely was the icebreaker regarding sexual conversations. She came from a similar culture and I knew exactly what I could get away with. On one occasion, we spoke like this in front of the group and everyone else warmed up.
By September 2016, I was having so much fun that I was able to not think about Leah anymore. I was a happy person again, enjoying everyday life. I really liked the lunches and a lot of times thought about what might happen at the next lunch.
In early December 2016, it was the Thursday lunch that stood above all the others. For the past two lunches prior to this one, Ronnee’s boss Mark showed up at the cafeteria. He saw me and Ronnee sitting close to each other twice in a row. Mark rarely ever went to the cafeteria; consequently, I thought Ronnee and I could eventually get into some sort of trouble. This preceded the following event that happened on the Friday the prior week: Christine and I had a long conversation with Ronnee at her desk. Towards the end, Mark walked by, didn’t say anything, but he was clearly pissed off.
Back to the Thursday lunch; strangely enough, I had a conference call scheduled with external auditors, PWC (our corporate return preparers) and everyone, starting at the bottom with me all the way to the Colombian bosses. The meeting was scheduled from 12 p.m. to 1 p.m. I needed to disappear for a few minutes and talk to Ronnee regarding my opinion about Mark and the situation. At about 12.30 p.m., I placed the phone on silent and went to Sue to excuse myself. “I need to go to the bathroom. I don’t feel so good.” I arrived at the cafeteria and saw Christine, Jessica, and Ronnee sitting at one small table. I pulled a chair from an adjacent table and sat next to Ronnee. “Ronnee,” I said in a moderate tone of voice.
“Yes, Joseph,” she replied and turned her head so we were able to see each other. At this point, we were about a foot from one another and our eyes locked in full stare. We kept looking into each other’s eyes and did not blink for the remainder of the conversation.
“Yesterday, I took some papers that needed to be signed and went to his office,” I said.
“Mark’s?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied, and continued, “We had a great conversation,” (she smiled a little) “and I don’t think there will be any problems going forward with—”
“Mark,” Ronnee completed the sentence. She looked away and continued to speak, saying, “If you think so,” then looked back into my eyes. And then it happened. We were locked in, our eyes were teasing each other in an indescribable, sexual, and lustful way. We were the only two people left in the entire Universe. We were so in tune with one another. It was an immense tease that left my mind and body completely weak, begging for more. I had never experienced anything close to this in my entire life. We were having eye sex in the cafeteria with Jessica and Christine witnessing the whole event. This made it so much hotter since it happened in public. I saw Ronnee was enjoying the moment as she then looked away.
I continued my sentence. “On Friday he was pissed, right, Christine?” She confirmed by slowly moving her head up and down, avoiding any sort of eye contact with me. I think she was scared to death. I therefore continued, “And then he showed up here twice in a row. That is so unusual.” Shortly after, I excused myself since I had to get back on the conference call. This was the last time all three of us had lunch together.
The next week, Jessica left for Ireland and Christine refused to talk to me. I had one more lunch with Ronnee. We only discussed everyday things. The next day, I gave her a Christmas card and a teddy bear, and suggested we go out for lunch to a restaurant. I scared her a little bit since she returned the teddy bear to me stating “legal reasons.” After the holidays, I saw the three girls at lunch for the last time. They actually blew me off by ignoring me and chatting about female-related items. I think they enjoyed this very much since I was sitting right next to them, alone, for the most part “high and dry.” After this lunch I began to get sick. I cannot describe how I felt at certain points. I don’t remember much from this period. I later found out indirectly from my wife that I cussed a few people out and walked out of the building. I was fired from Argos and eventually ended up in jail and a hospital. I don’t remember almost anything from that period, either.
Final Thoughts
Where to begin? What happened? What will happen next? I guess I should start from the beginning. As a young child, I had everything that a child could possibly have. I was raised by four women of different generations. Each gave me something different. They all loved me and wanted to spend every second of their free time with me. I was hugged, sang to and cared for. In other words, I was loved beyond imagination. I was raised to be part of “nature.” Ronnee, who has this? How many people in the world are raised like this anymore? You can’t put babies and toddlers in front of a television. Their undeveloped brains can’t process the fast-paced, choppy images of TV light. The images damage their little brains. A baby/toddler that is raised in front of a TV played even in the background doesn’t fully develop emotionally. The emotions such as empathy, love, and love for nature, caring/enjoying simple things and feelings for music will never develop to their full potential. The final nail in the coffin is a babysitter. Every child has the right to be with Mom. Babies have to be nurtured and loved by their mothers. It is impossible to replace a mother’s love. Who else than a mother can love a child at an early age? Babysitters only watch the kids, they don’t love them. Sadly, to my knowledge, the Czech Republic is the only country in the world where women are paid to be at home with their children for two to four years. The same amount of money (equal to about 60% of the average yearly pay) is divided between the chosen years. Why doesn’t the richest country in the world have this benefit for its people? Is our military more important to us than our youngest citizens? Let’s not even discuss the health care system. That’s another story.
I experienced the worst and the best of humanity. I indirectly experienced Nazi Germany via real stories that happened to my family during WWII. Grandmother told me most of the stories. I fully experienced the events of the 1989 Velvet Revolution. Everyone came together to make a real change. The government will never do it for you. It has to come from the bottom, from within the people.
I experienced the best and the worst of socialism. I could not ask for a better childhood. It was a carefree, safe and beautiful childhood. The whole country belonged to the children. The parents and the government took really good care of all children. The adults had it bad. They became slaves to the totalitarian regime. They were not allowed to think freely. This eventually killed their spirits, and many drank themselves to death. This is still a widespread problem in today’s Russia.
I experienced the worst and the best of capitalism. From the age of fifteen to nineteen, I lived in poverty and was destined for failure. I’ve seen it all around me. Lives being destroyed due to drugs, poverty, and lack of education. The penal system is designed to destroy a person, not to correct that person. Higher education is mostly for the chosen ones. Yes, anyone can graduate from college, but a poor person will have to acquire massive student debts. With strong emphasis on materialism and to live the so-called “American Dream,” most people will work to pay interest for the rest of their lives, so they can buy things they mostly don’t need. In fact, becoming slaves to the system and unable to make any real changes in their lives. I was on the top of the pyramid (at least in my mind) when I was hired to work at PulteGroup. The job that I knew nothing about paid really well. I was treated like gold by the whole tax department and especially by Kim. She was a sweetheart, I could see it in her eyes. At least now I can feel for the poor and understand the rich. A person will only become human if he or she experiences having nothing.
At the end of January 2017, I was in jail and hospital. I can’t remember much. I am sad because I missed the first week of Trump’s presidency. I think he will either be the greatest or one of the worst presidents this country ever had. The more I hear him talk and act, the more I like him. He is not a career politician, therefore doesn’t owe anybody any favors. People from both parties hate him. That is a great sign. A real change has already happened. Pictures of his naked wife are all over the internet. ;-) That will be great reading material for future generations.
I was never a material person. Sure, I want to make enough money to provide for my family. I want my kids to grow up in a good area and go to good schools. I want my family to take vacations and enjoy life in general. But those are necessities. I never enjoyed acquiring and hoarding wealth for my personal benefit. Most of the time, I enjoy giving more than receiving. I totally agree that individuals should be able to enjoy the fruits of their labor. There is nothing wrong with being rich and living like a rich person should live. Greed is good. Greed is good to a certain point. When the top 1% of the population controls 90% of the world’s resources, something is wrong. The super-rich are so busy maintaining and building wealth, they have no consideration for anybody or anything on this planet. For every person who lives like a king, there are millions more who are starving, suffering, and slowly dying. I guess the Holocaust was a walk in the park. At least it was quick. Most had no idea what was about to happen until the very end. At least the Nazis were “nice” enough to play them live classical music just before they entered the gas chambers. How ironic is this twisted marriage of beauty and the beast.
How can we take care of this world if we don’t care for each other? I hope we have not yet passed the point of no return. Artificial intelligence (AI) can grow exponentially smart in the area it was designed to operate. It will never be as smart as the human brain. Nevertheless, if bad people are in charge, it cannot be controlled and/or stopped in case of an emergency.
Before I continue, I would like to mention two things I strongly believe and have believed most of my life. I will never change my opinion on these two subjects for anything or anyone as long as I live.
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True love is the most powerful force in this world.
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Organized religion is the source of most human misery and suffering. It is a pyramid scheme that keeps the people on the top in power and most of the population poor and under control. It is a haven for pedophiles and other predators who love to prey on peoples’ ignorance and naivety. They sell you bullshit stories for 10% of your gross income. Charitable events are just a cover-up to hide the true intentions. For example, in the USA, the Church doesn’t pay any taxes at all. The clergy should live a simple life. In reality, many deal in cash, live in million-dollar mansions and drive expensive sports cars. Look at the history; most deaths from unnatural causes are attributed to religion. Long story short – the world will never be free unless it gets rid of organized religion. Yes, I believe in a higher power that created this Universe; however, nobody on this planet has the right to influence my opinion on this subject.
It all comes down to one thing, the good vs the bad forces of nature. For every person that ever walked the face of this Earth, it comes down to a struggle between the good and the bad. It is always more or less the same story. This is the ultimate eternal power struggle. In the end, the good always has a slight edge over the bad. It may not always be as obvious, but it will happen at the end. Ronnee, it has to, and I believe it 100%. If it were not true, our civilization would not have got this far.
Here is the reason why the good force has a slight advantage over the bad force: The good can only love, but cannot hate. The bad can only hate, but cannot love.
I experienced the following. As long as you can see, hear, feel, and touch, it will get worse and worse and worse. . . and at a certain point, as long as you can see and feel but can never hear and speak, it will get better and better and better. . .
This is not a game for the weak. It is only for the strongest of the strongest. Ronnee, you are a smart woman. I am sure you already figured this out.
Ronnee, the very first time I saw you, I felt you were a special person. You always smiled in a friendly and comforting way that made me feel relaxed. I couldn’t wait to see you and talk to you again. I always loved that you can appreciate the smallest details of natural beauty. Strong empathy, for other people, animals, and the world you live in, is your best feature. You are a loving mother who gave everything she had to raise her three children. What a terrific job you did.
You care for other people regardless of background. Leo, for example; he was fat and unattractive with obvious difficulty in finding a girlfriend. You flirted with him anyway. You knew he was a great person inside and flirting would make him feel good. I admire that. You liked me for who I was. You did not care that I drove a Nissan Leaf to work, a sign that a person is on a budget. You have an amazing ability to see past all the bullshit filters and images that a person may put in front of a face to hide their true identity. You can see the real, raw, pure human beings. In other words, you can see and feel the soul of each person in question. You are loving, a truly and genuinely loving person. I did not think people like you existed anymore. I was so wrong. Everything in my life had a purpose. Every single event that happened in my life led to the incredible, indescribable and out-of-this-world event that occurred when our eyes met at full stare that day in the cafeteria. At that moment, I felt we were in love with each other. We shared everything that was inside us. We are now connected with each other, because true love is eternal and cannot be destroyed. Your love kept me going through the difficult times. It will also keep me going in the future.
Ronnee, you are the love of my life. I realize that I cannot be with you. I would like to be your friend. We have a lot in common and many great subjects to talk about. Philosophy is the ultimate answer to everything. I am sure that together we will find many more answers and solutions. I feel optimistic about the future, especially with your presence in my life. So, how about lunch sometime? It will be my treat, the first time. I already promised you this. Invite Jessica, I miss her as well. How is Christine doing? I hope all three of you are doing well and everything went back to normal at Argos.
What are the next steps in my life? Well, I need to get a job or start a business (my preference) so my wife doesn’t divorce me. Coincidently, my stepdad sold all his businesses and wired me some money about two weeks before the incident. In the worst-case scenario, I will be OK for a year. I want to raise my two daughters as best I can. I want them to enjoy operas, play sports, travel, and fully experience the world. I want them to see the “bad” aspects of humanity as well, so they will be able to make the right choices. With a little luck, they will be like you when they grow up. :-)
After I came home from the hospital, the first thing my wife of ten years asked were some questions about my life insurance. Then she wanted me to sign a document giving her an authorization to disconnect me from life support if needed. In the summer of 2014, we started going to swingers’ clubs three to four times per year. Maybe she did not enjoy it as much as I thought she did. I enjoyed it, that’s for sure. Maybe she did not feel loved anymore and did it because of me. I have to take a step back and really think about this. A coin always has two sides.
The most important thing I realized from all this; I am in love with the world and everything in it.
Here is my contact; Cell (474)552-5690 t.joseph78@yahoo.com
Take care.