Work Space

 The new workspace is set up. Getting the box up the stairs was a struggle. I did it alone, but once I set up the table, it was easy to move into place. It has an electric motor and adjusts up and down. I can stand and use it if I choose.

 I'm only missing the tray that goes under the corner to hide and hold all the power connections. That is coming today.

The desk, new center monitor, monitor stand, light, keyboard, hub, some shelves (not shown), and the tray for the wire connections ran me around $750. Merry Christmas to me.

But I do like it, and I like working in the loft because it is an open space central to the condo. My new expansion to the novel is coming along. I think I can reach my goal and hopefully exceed it in this first draft. This is my most ambitious project since the memoir. But I can see a path to market for this one in a way that I didn't with the memoir.

Getting Old

Well, the day after Halloween, I finally transferred the car over. I like my new Buick Envista. It is identical to the old one except white. Over the weekend, I decided to upgrade my work area in the loft. I spend most of my time there lately, it is time I did something for myself. I bought a larger L-shaped desk that raises and lowers, light, new hub, a third monitor and a stand that will hold all three. Plus some accessories for my chair and desk. 

The desk comes Wednesday. I'll probably wait until the weekend to dismantle the old one and set up the new one. The third monitor won't be here until next Thursday. I'll probably have to pick up a few more things before I am through.

I've had Al come over twice since my last post. I don't think I'm going to continue. She's pretty and willing. I'm just not attracted to her and my priorities have changed. I'm looking toward writing, saving, and retirement. Let's face it. I'm getting old.

The Week to Come

 It is going to be a busy week. Monday (today), I am picking up a new Buick Envista. It is identical to the one I have now, except white this time. What happened to the old one? I'm selling it to Max's girlfriend (way under market value). She has been driving it for two weeks anyway. 

Max's mother is handling the financing. I told them I would sell them the car for $18,000, but I am not floating the loan. It is a good deal for them. Now, they will both have cars that should last them way past the point when they pay them off.

Tuesday, Al is coming over. Yes, this is a surprise to me too. She reached out to me last week out of the blue and wanted to get together. I'd seen Al at the club a few times when I was hanging out with Violet, but we hadn't done much but exchange a few pleasant words.

I'm not sure if this will be a one-time thing or something consistent. Given Al's track record I don't expect it to last very long. Still, you don't turn down an opportunity that is handed to you. Besides, I need this. I haven't been with anyone since Gia left.

Wednesday, I meet up with Ariel for a writing discussion on Zoom.

Thursday, I have a writers' workshop online. We will be discussing my short story called Just for the Summer.

Friday, is free so far. 

Saturday, I am going to a writers' conference at Oakland University with Ariel. My first in-person conference.

I have been writing. I'm working on expanding my story, The Eiffel Tower is in Cincinnati, to the length of a novel. It has not been easy. I never conceived of the story as a full-length novel. I've been writing additional scenes and working on a second timeline story to weave together. The work is very piecemeal. I am still not sure which scenes to keep and how it will all weave together. Nor am I sure if I can make it into the length I will need. 

Everyone says just keep writing. I don't want to lose what made the story work in the process though. I can't wait for the end of the year. I have twenty-one days of vacation coming up in December. I'm looking forward to the extended break.

 

Fall Updates

I resigned from the condo association board this month. The president was pushing for more involvement. I didn’t enjoy the amount of involvement I already had. That hasn’t stopped him from calling and asking for financial advice for the association. I don’t mind that so much.

I haven’t been getting out much. I’m busy with work and writing. Plus, to be honest, I don’t feel like getting out and socializing with friends. It’s not a depressive funk. I just don’t really enjoy people. I get enough social interaction at work.

Sometimes I let those statistics about men who live alone dying sooner than men who live with someone else get into my head. But I don’t recognize my life in the picture people draw of living alone. They usually assume it must be lonely or less joyful. I don’t experience it that way. Frankly, I would find my own life odd and meaningless without focused goals outside of work.

Max's Ford Fusion needs a new transmission. The cost is more than the car is worth. He borrowed the truck for two weeks, but I suggest he use the Buick because the truck was probably costing him too much in gas (he drives two hours a day). I told him to let his girlfriend drive the Buick. He is too hard on vehicles, and I don't want to have the Buick trashed.

I told him they should buy a used Envista. They both put too many miles on a car to lease. Hopefully, he figures something out. I'd like my car back.

The Eiffel Tower is in Cincinnati

I started this story, I woke up with the opening line-- "There ain't no such thing as cane sugar," and a question: Who says that?  When I was finished, I had my answer and another question: Who is going to publish a story this long?

Luckily, I found my answer to both.

The Eiffel Tower is in Cincinnati has been published on The Write Launch. 

If you get the chance, please check it out.

Bland Update

 Two weeks ago, when I was writing about September plans, I was communicating regularly with Violet. Things were playful, and we were both looking forward to seeing each other. About a week ago, she went silent.

It seems out of character. I have several working theories as to why she hasn't replied to either of my last two texts, because I can't allow events to just happen without analyzing them.

At the top of my theories is that she couldn't pay her phone bill and it got cut off. This happened before. It was actually the case the day I rescued her at the muffler shop. That happened a month ago, so it lines up.

Add to that, her month doesn't have internet or a car, and Violet just started work, so money is tight.

I am aware that there are other possibilities. I've thought about them all, and though I am biased, I still think this one fits the best.

I'll be perfectly fine regardless of how things develop or don't develop. I have a five-day vacation coming up and a story being published online tomorrow. It would have been fun to see her, but I won't be devastated if I don't. Thursday is her payday. We'll see if she resurfaces.

The Weekend

I am all switched over to Xfinity. It took a lot more work than it should have.

I'm working with an editor on publishing a longer short story. She encouraged me to expand the middle with material I had left out due to length. It will be released online next week. She also felt I could expand it to a full novel. I don't think I will. I am thinking about expanding it to novella length, though.

Her comments were:

Although I read The Eiffel Tower...when I was considering stories for publication, this close read broke through the "deeper layer" of story and shifted into a verisimilitude that showed the depth of the relationship between and the development of the characters—who are no longer just characters but the reality of their lives in motion.

Personally, I think there is even more to this story as it is geared for novel action.

This is the best feedback I've gotten from an editor. 

I am really proud of this piece. 

I will drop the link to the story here on September 15th.

Lucy asked about Max in a comment. He is working on a framing crew working on custom homes. He seems to like his job. He came over on the weekend. Apparently, he hit a garbage can on a dirt road on the way home from work last week.

The can broke his passenger rear-view mirror. He was going to borrow the truck until I told him a passenger mirror was not required in Michigan. We took off the broken mirror. I suggested that he could find a same-color replacement online. I'll help him put it on if he does. I'm not sure if he wants to invest money in the car.

September Plans

 Violet is still in Indiana. I think she is still adjusting and trying to figure out what she wants. We text. I haven't offered up any suggestions. She'll figure out what she wants to do. 

She starts a cashier job this week at Kroger's. It's close to her mom's house. That's good. 

I'm taking some vacation time between our birthdays. Hers is the 27th; mine is the 18th. We are making plans for me to drive back down to see her.

Mammoth Caves is only two hours away from her. It would be nice to go there again. We are still working on the details.

Still, it gives me something to look forward to for my birthday. A day that just gets more depressing each year :).

AT&T Sucks

I switched my internet and wireless service from AT&T to Xfinity. I should save $960 the first year and about $600 a year for the remaining four years. Sounds worth the hassle, right?

Not so fast.

I tried to unlock my phone so I could move it to Xfinity.

“This account has a past-due balance.”

It doesn’t. I bought my phone outright in 2024 specifically so I could move it whenever I felt like it.

So far, I have gone to the AT&T store where I bought it—twice—and spoken with numerous AT&T agents by phone and online. At least two assured me the problem was fixed.

It wasn’t.

And don’t get me started on AT&T’s automated AI. It understands only basic commands and won’t let you speak to a human unless you lie to it or become more stubborn than the machine. The agents who can’t fix the problem either make another promise or send you back to a phone number answered by the same useless AI.

This has gone on for four days. I finally filed complaints with the FCC and AT&T Legal. To say I’m frustrated would be an understatement.

Now I’m left waiting for someone to fix it.

I’ve cooled off for the moment—enough to write this post and remember the good old days of customer support.

The following conversation probably wouldn’t happen today. But there was at least a human being on the other end of the phone.

Talk

Originally posted October 28, 2005 (excerpt)

By the time we got back to Jay’s house, it was already after 9:30 p.m. I called customer support to get the modem registered to his account. I got Alison, a friendly support person from Ottawa. I think she was new. She couldn’t get whatever she needed to do to work. She needed to call her manager over.

While we waited, I started reading her the Maxim magazine article I was flipping through, “100 Things You Need to Know About Women.”

Me: “Okay, here’s one. #34: The average woman owns eight bras and wears each one five times before washing.”

Alison: “That sounds about right, but I don’t know about the five times.”

Me: “#19: The more piercings she has, the more places she’ll let you put it.”

Alison: “I only have one piercing. What’s the next one?”

Me: “Okayyyy. #23: Every woman is self-conscious about her ass.”

Alison: “No comment.”

Me: “Oops, I think I hit a sensitive spot.”

Alison: “I didn’t say that.”

Me: “#16: Chicks aren’t afraid to get kinky; you just have to have the nerve to ask.”

Alison: “I can’t talk about that one—these conversations are recorded.”

Unfortunately, Jay’s cheap cell phone disconnected at that point. When I got customer service back on my phone, a guy took the call and hooked up internet access in minutes, but it wasn’t as fun.

Alison couldn’t fix the problem, but she was allowed to be a person. The next representative fixed it in minutes. Twenty-one years later, AT&T’s artificial intelligence has managed to eliminate both the conversation and the solution.

The Waiting

It's safe to say I've become invested in Violet (but you probably already knew that). I care about what happens to her, but I also like her. I think she likes me too.

I want her to establish herself and become independent, but the car ride back did feel empty without her there.

I'm walking a fine line. If she decides to come back, I want it to be her choice. I'd like her to be a part of my life, while at the same time, I want her to reach a point where she has absolutely no need to.

It sounds selfless, but being selfless can feel a bit lonely at the moment.

If she stopped needing my help tomorrow, would there still be something between us that both of us wanted?

I think there is. I think she does too.

I'm not sure how much of that is just the adrenaline of the moment, but I'd like to find out.

Like Tom Petty said, "The waiting is the hardest part."

One thing is for sure: my blog gets more interesting when a woman is involved.

Road Trip, Indiana Style

 Our drive was mostly uneventful, except for the one detour between Columbus and Cincinnati, where I took a wrong turn into oncoming traffic. We survived. 

The dogs, a pit bull and a boxer, settled into the back. The boxer occasionally whined, but neither bit my arm off.

We didn't play any music during the six-hour ride. We just talked—about our pasts, about her ex, about gender politics.

When we got closer to her hometown in southern Indiana, we stopped at a Walmart so she could pick up dog food and a few items for herself. We interacted naturally together—making jokes and observations about the differences between Walmarts.

She mentioned the angels in my tattoo sleeve. She said it was one of the first things she noticed. 

"Maybe god or whoever brings people into your life when you need them," she said.

"Well, if I disappear on you, that just means I am on to my next assignment."

"You better not disappear on me."

As we exited the store, I said. "Now you can't say, I never took you anywhere." 

She just laughed.

She unloaded her merger belonging, the dogs, and a couple of grocery bags. We exchanged hugs, and then I was back on the road.

The car felt noticeably quieter without her.

I turned on my music and sang along during the drive. I made good time until I ran into a heavy downpour outside of Toledo. Cars slowed or pulled over.

We exchanged a few texts during the drive. The vibe was different now that we could text freely.

Me: I just crossed into Michigan.

Violet: Glad you made it back to the American border.

I laughed. Violet feels Ohio and Indiana are too strict and un-American.

Me: You are so funny.

Violet: I mean, I think so. That's all that matters. And you made me listen to 35,000 dry jokes today. I think I earned one.

I told her that made me laugh even harder.

Violet: Ha, so I am funny. All this time I thought it was my charm and good looks.

Me: It is a little bit of both.

Violet: So you are pretty much saying I'm the full package.

Me: You are the full package that comes with a lot of complications.

Violet: Every good commitment comes with terms and conditions.

Me: I'm going to have to start learning to read the fine print.

Violet: Like that would be something you'd pass up on anyway. #1 master LEGO builder partner here.

The boyfriend ended up having his grandfather bond him out on Saturday. He was back in Indiana by Sunday evening. He picked up the dogs from Violet's mother. Violet was not around.

She wants to return to Michigan. She wants to continue hanging out with me. What that all means is still up in the air. I am letting her decide. I told her she is welcome to come back and stay with me. 

An Unexpected Afternoon

It was 2:00 p.m. Friday afternoon. I was at work finishing a second draft of my latest story when I got a call from a number I didn't recognize. I almost didn't pick it up, but it was during work hours.

It was Violet. She was crying.

She and her boyfriend had rented a room in Farmington Hills, closer to the club, so she could work the weekend. He didn't want to drive all the miles (of course). They got into a shouting fight. She threw a cup of water at him. He ended up punching her in the back of the head.

Violet left the room and started walking. He followed her. He blocked her with his car and tried to get her inside when employees at a muffler shop intervened. They told him to leave the premises and took her inside.

That's when she called me. She was worried about her dogs, which were still in the room. I convinced her she needed to call the cops. He left the muffler shop, but he was watching from the balcony of the motel, which was just adjacent.

I told her that when the cops arrived, I would pick her up. He took off before they arrived. I got Violet. The people at the muffler shop were very kind and really helped her.

The cops arrived, and I picked her up.

He came back, but the cops didn't leave. They had just pulled around behind the muffler shop. They arrested him. They called us, got the room key from him, and we were able to pick up the dogs.

Between Violet's statement and the statements from the people at the muffler shop, the police had plenty to work with. He'll be spending at least the weekend in jail. He may have to spend longer, as this will violate his probation.

Violet and the dogs are spending the night here. In the morning, I am taking her back to her mom's in Indiana. It isn't ideal, but that is what she wants to do. I told her she could stay here, but I couldn't house her and the dogs.

She didn't want to go back to his place to get any of her things. She just wants to leave. Her main concern, right or wrong, is her dogs, which I understand.

So tomorrow will be a six-hour road trip, with another six hours back. I don't plan on staying overnight somewhere.

I call it an unexpected afternoon, but was it really? I think we all saw this coming. 

A Win is a Win

 I have to keep reminding myself that a win is a win. A year ago, I would have been happy if any of my writing had been accepted for publication. Now, I have five publications, and I'm getting jaded. I still want an agent to take the memoir seriously.

I still have other short essays that haven't found a home yet, either. Honestly, I am not submitting as much as I should. It goes in waves. Currently, I am working on revisions to my query letter and synopsis for the memoir. I've been working with my instructor from the workshop. After that, I will start another round of queries and see if anything improves. My mentor says summer is not the time to query anyway.

I'm not sure where this is going.

I continue to hear from Violet occasionally. No movement there. She is still trying to move forward with her plan. It's not going well. He seems to be keeping her from making money. I get it. It's hard to get ahead these days when you are starting from nothing. Hopefully, she'll figure it out.

 

Notice

 I have been traveling for work this week. Many hours of driving. I hate driving lately. Yesterday I spent six hours in the car. Today I spent two hours. It makes for a long day. I can't get my work done.

On the bright side. I woke today to my story, The Eiffel Tower is in Cincinnati, getting accepted for publication in The Write Launch. I'm not sure how to feel about this one. On the one hand, the story is too long for literary magazines. At just over 12,000 words, it's too long for most. The Write Launch accepted it despite the length being over their usual limit. On the other hand, I wonder if I should have held out for a better spot.

Regardless, I will be publishing a link to the story on September 15. I think it is a good story. So I am glad people will be able to read it.

Summer Haze

Sunday, Max and I went to New Baltimore for lunch. I watched the young girls eyeing Max. He probably doesn't even notice. The kid would be dangerous if he developed his conversation skills. I get my share of looks from the geriatric crowd, but the young, cute ones get all nervous around Max's blue eyes. 

Max is working as a carpentry apprentice-- yes, another new job. Although the smoke has forced him to stay home for a few days. There will be more of that coming next week as well. It will be another night of keeping the air conditioner on and the windows closed, even though the temperatures we are having (lows in the high 50s) would usually allow me to turn off the air and open the windows for the night.

Just another glorious summer.

Smoke

 Like other areas of the country, the Canadian wildfires have gifted us with a thick haze of smoke. It's like a grey fog. The smell is everywhere. Not the pleasant smell of a fire in the fireplace. It's the smell of old chemicals that only vaguely reminds you of smoke. The smell seeps into the office, your clothes, your home.

The temperatures are dipping into the 60s at night, but you can't open the windows. My lungs are already rebelling from my vaping (I know, I have to quit). This just adds to it.

Otherwise, Max got him an apprentice job on a framing crew. If you ask me, that is the lowest of the skilled trades. He should have waited for a plumbing, electrical, or HVAC opening to come up.

Nothing says don't work outside like 100-degree weather and toxic smoke.

On the Fringe

Sugar: Hey, you should come in tonight. Violet is here. She wants to see you.

Bathwater: Did you find out what happened to her?

Sugar: I did. Come talk to her. It's for her to say. It's not my place to spread her stuff. I don't want to do that.

She sends a picture of the two of them in the dressing room getting ready.

Bathwater: I take it she can't text me.

Sugar: Yeah, she wishes she could. That's why I said don't worry, I got you. She really wants to talk. She always feels better when she does.

Bathwater: I got plans. I wouldn't get there till late.

Because I can't resist a good story, I went. 

I'm not a fan of Friday nights at the club. The crowd is just different. Some familiar faces always seem to be there. The pair of German brothers in their mid-seventies, who like to stare over the rail and compare dancers. Same bartenders and a couple of familiar dancers.

The crowd was thin, and there were a lot of dancers working. They were really hustling. I had to fend off more than usual.

I saw Sugar first. I chipped away at her defenses during our conversation. She didn't say much about Violet.

Familiar names get called on stage. I find myself thinking about the dancers I used to know with those same ones.

I excused myself to the bathroom. I saw Violet sitting in the center of a booth filled with a group of guys and a couple of other dancers. We locked eyes for a second as I walked past.

Violet came up to the upstairs bar where I usually hang out about twenty minutes later. She settled into the high-back stool next to where I was standing.

Her eyes were glassy. 

"I'm glad to see you're alive," I said.

She didn't want to get into her story at the bar in front of others. 

"Let's go into the back, then," I suggested. "Let me order another beer first. I have a feeling this is going to be a long one."

We went to the back. Violet plopped herself into the corner of the couch and rested her legs on my lap. She slid the triangles of her purple bikini top off her breasts out of habit and started unloading.

First, let me gloat.

Ninety percent of my suspicions were correct. She did get to Loves before I arrived, but he started creating a scene. He took her phone. It was he who sent those last few text messages. It was him in that grey midsize SUV.

The SUV was actually paid for by Violet, but it is in his name. His truck is not running. He threatened to call the cops and take it from her. Violet does not want to be without a car. She did get kicked out of where she was staying (which was not with him). He caused a scene outside, and her roommate said she can't have that.

Violet was forced to move in with him. She stopped texting with me because she doesn't want to put me in the middle. I don't want to be in the middle. She is afraid of him. Her current plan is to save enough money to get another car and leave. I suggested that when that time comes, she should call the cops. She is still reluctant to do that. She'd rather make a clean escape. I don't really see that happening, given the control he has over her. 

I gave her my Google number just in case, before we parted.

When I returned to the upstairs bar area, it was freezing. I was shivering. Sugar passed, and I pulled her in. "Come here. Keep me warm for a sec."

"I figured you two would still be in the back."

"I didn't come here planning to spend a bunch of money. Do me a favor. Keep an eye out for her."

"Will do."

I think Violet will leave him. It's there in the detached way she talks. In the layered plans she's already making. The note she plans to leave behind will basically say, "You're an asshole." The question is when and at what cost.

Why I'm still hanging around the fringes. I like her. She wants to hang out, and she wants to do it soon. I do too.

"You don't have to come in," was one of the last things Violet said to me.

I think that tells me two things.

She wants to figure this out on her own.

And whatever this friendship has become, it isn't dependent on me walking through the doors of the club.

Fade to Black

Saturday, I went to the club.

I didn't expect Violet to be there, but I hoped Sugar might.

When you look down on the stage from the railing near the upstairs bar, you can see where the glossy white surface has worn into a dull circle around the front pole—years of high heels tracing the same path.

I arrived around nine. The place wasn't busy. I'd been sitting at the upstairs bar for about ten minutes when the DJ announced Sugar would be on stage in five songs.

When she came up, I walked down to the rail.

"Hey, have you heard from Violet?"

"No. She's not here tonight." She grinned. "Does that mean I get to take you to the back?" Always the salesman, Sugar is.

I slipped a twenty into her G-string. "I guess. I got a story for you."

After she finished making her rounds on stage, she found me upstairs and sat beside me at the bar.

She told me she'd texted Violet a few days earlier but never got a reply.

I told her everything—what happened that night, my theory about the SUV, and showed her the text exchange.

"Now I'm worried," she said.

"Me too."

She said she'd try calling her the next day. Before she went back to work, we exchanged numbers.

"If you hear from her," I said, "just let me know."

She nodded.

It was obvious Sugar had heard more stories about Violet's boyfriend than I had, but she didn't elaborate.

For now, that seems to be the end of the story.

At least the part I know.

Eos

Why I don't bother looking for women anymore. This is a recent exchange on a mutually beneficial dating site.

Christine: If your still looking for something steady let me know I’d definitely be interested in seeing if we are compatible and looking for the same thing ☺️

Me: Yes, I am. Would you like to get together for a coffee?

Christine: I could do that.  In person is so much easier than on here. I’m over in Grosse Pointe Woods area.  Where are you? Maybe find a place in the middle.

Me: I agree. You don't know until you meet.  I live in Chesterfield. There is Eos Cafe & Coffee House on Jefferson between 12 and 13. I have not been there, but it looks okay.

Christine: Next week I will have way more free time and flexibility.  Would it be ok if we schedule meeting? I have been to EOS before and isn’t too far from me.

Me: Yes, next week would be good for me. I'm looking forward to. Give me some days that work well for you. Tuesday is my only busy day. Wednesdays and Sundays are good.

Christine: I can do next Wednesday if you’d like?

Me: Yes, I can do Wed. Eos closes at 4 p.m. Can you do sometime between noon and 3? If not, I can pick somewhere else.

Christine: How does 1pm sound?

I don’t think I got your name yet? I’m Christine ☺️

Me: Nice to meet you, Christine. My name is Bathwater.  Wednesday at 1 p.m. at Eos on Jefferson sounds great.

At this point, her potential for showing has dropped to fifty percent.

Me: I'm looking forward to meeting you tomorrow. Let me know if your plans change. I'll DM you here when I am on my way.

Wednesday

Me: I'll be heading out in a few. See you there. I'm wearing a green shirt.

I made my way down to Eos. She didn't show. Technically, she could say she never saw the messages, but the app did show her online, and I did boost the message to the top of her inbox.

On the plus side, I still clean up nicely for my age, and I did get to see an attractive girl behind the coffee counter with a nice smile, long torso, and tight tee.

Difference

 Max did take me to lunch for Father's Day. It was just him and me. His fiancé did not go. The three of us did go to Finn's in New Baltimore the week before.

Max was updating me on his tangles with the neighbors at his mom's condo. Something that didn't occur when his brothers were living there. I said he should expect it; he's living in an old folks community. He swears he is not the problem. I suspect it is a little of both going on.

Currently, I'm writing a fiction story. The opening line came to me as I was waking up one morning. "There is no such thing as cane sugar," she assured me. It's about the friendship between two 8/ 9-year-old kids.

It is called The Eiffel Tower is in Cincinnati. It began as an essay piece that evolved into a 7,000-word story, but I felt there was more to it. I'm currently writing a second half that will be approximately another 5,000 words. The second half flashes forward to when they are adults. I like the story. It is my most ambitious work of fiction in a long time.

I'm not sure what I will do with it when it is done. It will be an awkward length for publishing, but creating the story is more important to me right now than where it belongs. It has been a good distraction while the memoir is out for consideration.