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Joy Ride

Joy Ride

By djreed7100

Driving a vehicle in the future will be considered a deficit in character.   Most likely to be a psychological disorder to be related to a control issue of some sort.  Any number of psychiatrists or psychologists, what is the difference, will gladly record the medical number code into their books for payment from anyone with a license.  Obsessive motor activity or of the like they will label it.  Like a used car salesmen prodding a would be sucker with, 'so,...how much you looking to spend?'  Mind doctors will ask, ' so,...do you drive?'  Sleazy docs. 

For now we can say that the inability to control ones life is why I drive so much.  Hell, I deliver car parts for a living.  I deliver parts in order to make something whole I guess, or some things better.  Nobody is knocking at my door with replacement parts for my life.  My wife is a blazing alcoholic.  Three bottles of wine a day, preferably red but, as long a man instrumented element is in there, due to the lack of an alcohol tree, she's all about it.  In avoidance of rehashing greasy memories, let's call the ex Puddy, like silly puddy.  After all, it's all silly.  I have however witnessed her drinking water once.  A couple sips while playing tennis is the only time can recall.  It was a hot June day. Every other drink everyday for two years has been wine, prior to this day. 

Puddy has a strong work ethic.  No matter how much she sways off, she never misses work.  How does one know one is drunk if they are drunk all the time?  I've noticed on occasion, a pattern.  If she catches a mere whiff of espresso, freshly brewed, it seems to enliven enough to fluff and puff then head to her jobs.  Puddy has three jobs.  She is a florist.  Puddy also waits tables.  Puddy is lastly, an alcoholic.  Tough gig, day in and day out. 
Head injuries I sustained from a ill placed drunken telephone pole a year ago drag me asleep by Eight o'clock nearly every night.  Puddy comes home after dolling food and drink at a local Italian restaurant only to doll out a few more drinks, albeit to herself.  Never once has she awoken me with that sound box that accompanies her misery as she drinks alone.  I have never been awoken for anything at all.  Not a hello hug, kiss or just a word.  That's well and good, I don't want anything from her in that way. I nearly left earth that drunken night I met that pole.  Puddy had a boyfriend for seven years that she found one routine day, hanging in their bedroom.  She dealt directly with death too.  Puddy never talked about him, too much pain I guess.  I don't push it.  As much as I think I have been through, it's nothing comparatively.  I wish only peace toward her, she's had enough.  I fell out of love with her nearly the next day after our wedding.  She did too.  I just don't want pain around.  Enough of this crap,  I have to take a ride.  Maybe to the coast I will go.  Maybe the farm lands.  I'll take the interstate and see where that leads me.
I-95 south towards the shore is where I am headed.   I drive to Cape May New Jersey.  My grandfather lived here while he walked the earth.  My great grand parents too.  The sky is grey, the air is chilly.  Folks have all vanquished from their vacations.  It is very quiet, horns and engines sound as if on mute.  They make a sound yet the sounds don't greet you at the front door.  Your mind fills in the missing ques.   

 

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About The Author
djreed7100
djreed7100
About This Story
Audience:
All Audiences
Posted:
16 Sep, 2014
Genre:
Psychological
Type:
Inspirational, Sad, Other
Words:
630
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0
Views:
2,578

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