Another Night

 So Tinkerbell encouraged me to give Violet some more time. She thinks I am happier when someone is around. I am, but I am also happy focusing on writing right now.  I ended up texting her to see if she was working at the club this weekend. She was, and I decided to go in on Saturday night.

I'm beginning to hate going to those clubs, but the weather hasn't really turned to summer yet here. I spent some time talking to a new dancer I met. A cute twenty-one-year-old who would be nothing but trouble. She was hot, though.

When Violet found me and sat beside me, she was obviously intoxicated. Definitely not the girl I met a few weeks prior. I gave her some money and suggested she skip herself on stage and get something to eat. 

Violet is having issues at home, concerning a bad relationship she is trying to extract herself from, along with some other issues that usually come with being that age. She sobered up a bit after eating some pretzel sticks, and we went into the back, where we continued to talk. 

I like her; she is cute and shares some of the same interests. She seems interested in hanging out more, but she needs to get her shit together for that to happen. For now, she is a long shot. 

I told her I wasn't interested in hanging out, but I wasn't going to spend my summer inside the club, and left it at that. I'd don't think I have seen the last of her. She seems genuinely interested in hanging out. The real question is whether she is willing and able to make the first step.

The Gladiator is Back on the Road

Saturday, I decided to start the Jeep and get it ready to take to work for a few days. It had been sitting for months. The battery was dead and wouldn't take a charge. I took it to Murray's Auto Parts to see if the battery or the truck was the problem. It was the battery.

The young sales clerk was ready to sell me a new $259 battery when he mentioned a four-year warranty.

"Wait a minute, that battery is only three years old." I'd gotten it from Auto Zone.

I decided to reclaim my battery and drive the extra mile to Auto Zone. They exchanged it for free. 

Today, Max and I got gas in the truck and went to Walmart to find replacement batteries for my key fobs. Those were not free, but cheap enough.

I tired convincing Max that strapping himself with a $5600 ring payment was not a good idea.

"That's about what mom's ring cost," he said.

I refrained from making a comment on that except to say, "Not the first one. Her first one was less than a thousand."

He clearly hadn't considered wedding plans or other costs coming up in the next year. "Your going to have a lot going on in the next year. Moving out of that condo, a wedding. Don't start off in debt.

I'd rather give you $10,000 for a down payment on a house than to help you finance that ring."

After he left, I decided to switch the hinges on my new dryer so it opened to the left. The door is bigger than the old one, and it was getting in the way when I loaded clothes from the washer.

I also submitted a couple more novel queries this weekend and a few essay submissions.

Overall I'd say it has been productive.

Welter Spring 2026

 I am proud to announce that my piece, Glimpse, is part of the Welter spring 2026 issue.

CURRENT ISSUE | Spring 2026

 

Inside the 61st issue of Welter

New writing from Mira Yousif Almazrouei, Lucie Bhisitkul, Arno Bohlmeijer, Nathaniel Brame, Allison Burris, Sam Campbell, Scott Carroll, J. S. Coursey, Thomas Dettling, Joy DiMenna, Clayton Eccard, Mel Edden, Rachel Eisler, Christa Fairbrother, Melissa Foley-King, Ewen Glass, Benjamin Goluboff, Jennifer Harvey, Ghazal Azad Jahan, Thomas Lowery, Karen McGee, Kate Miano, Lauren Mirzakhalili, Elizabeth Murphy, Christine Naprava, Franz Jørgen Neumann, Bill Neumire, Prasida Clare Newman, David Pizzuro, Kimberly Ann Priest, nat raum, Sara Ries Dziekonski, Thaddeus Rutkowski, Grace Schwenk, Isabella Simões, John Sweeney, Kendra Whitfield, Joy Yin, Joshua Zeitler, and Jianqing Zheng. New artwork from Nuala McEvoy (cover), Joy DiMenna, Carlos Duplá, Richard Hanus, JC Henderson, Beth Horton, Anna Kirby, Susan Laugen, Serge Lecompte, Vishaal Pathak, Jim Ross, and RUNA.

For more information about the 61st print issue and our other print journals, visit our Print section.

Rings

 Max is working for a fire/water damage restoration company. He's been there for two weeks now. He says it is going well. Max thinks things are going well now that he and his girlfriend are both working again. he wants to propose to her in the next five months and get married next year.

He showed me the engagement ring he wants to buy. It costs $5600. I'm not sure if she picked it. He is buying it one line. It is the most expensive ring on the site.

He doesn't have $5600. He doesn't qualify to finance it either. Max wants me to finance it and have him pay me back. I could. I could just pay for it and have him pay me back, BUT I think this is a ridiculous idea.

Why would you want to strap yourself with a $200 payment for more than two years when you can't afford to live without your mother's support? When you haven't even considered the cost of a wedding. When you don't have a good track record with jobs.

I would rather give Max $10,000 for a down payment on a house than to help him finance a $5600 ring. She is not the person to walk around with $5600 on her finger. A person who walks around with that much money on her finger can afford to lose it.

If he wants to get married, I'm not going to talk him out of it (I think it is a bad idea). I'm not going to support being financially irresponsible, though.

Violet

 Gia is back in Detroit. Yes, I have been keeping loose tabs on her. She was in Tampa for a while, then she disappeared. I think she was in Rhode Island for a bit, and now she is showing up back in Detroit. No, I am not looking to rekindle anything with her. I understand she isn't capable of that. However, I must admit that I don't like the way things ended.

After a week of debating with myself, I decided to go to the club Saturday night. I hate the fifty-minute drive, but it is like putting on a familiar shoe.

I saw a couple of familiar faces, but Gia was not there. I'm glad in a way. 

I wasn't there long when a cute dancer walked by me. She was heading toward the private rooms. I could tell she was looking for something with one of the bouncers. I gave her a smile and tried to engage her when she walked past me again, but it seemed like she hadn't found what she was after. She gave me a quick smile and kept going.

She came back a few minutes later. She told me she thought she lost her phone, but it ended up being in the dressing room. We started talking She is from Indiana, but move to the area to dance. She has a cute smile. She reminds me a bit of Tinkerbell. 

We ended up talking. She is an artist. Likes to paint. I took her to the private rooms where we continued our conversation. We talked about writing, Legos ourselves. By the end she was eager to exchange numbers. Maybe something will come of it. Either way, it was a good night.

 

Brief

 I signed up for a writer's workshop. It is run by an instructor from UCLA. It is a group composed of 8 writers and the instructor. Over the course of eight weeks, each writer submits twenty pages (twice) for the other members to evaluate.

Thursday was our first meeting. It seems pretty informal. Several of the students have been in prior workshops. My first twenty pages will be reviewed this week, along with those of another student.

Michigan went directly from winter to summer. Spring was not an option. During that instant switch-over, I started this post at least three four times. 

Max started working back at his old job on Monday, and by Wednesday, he was texting me saying it didn't work out. I wanted to scream, "Maybe the common denominator in your inability to hold down a job was him." 

Who quits a job without having another? He obviously needs the money. I don't know what to do anymore. He told me everything else is working for him right now. The last piece is the right job. I feel like a job is the bedrock for everything else to work out. 

Easter, Sort Of

I went to lunch with Max on Easter. He told me he’d just started back at his old job—the one at the company that makes custom walk-in freezers. At least for now, he’s stepping away from trying to make a full-time living painting Warhammer figurines.

He said staying at home was driving him crazy. That stood out to me, because I’ve always been the opposite. I don’t mind being home—I actually find it easier to focus, as long as I have something to work on. Hearing how things played out, it also reinforced my earlier instinct not to financially support his Warhammer venture. It just didn’t feel stable.

So after about a year of doing his own thing, he’s essentially back where he started. The main difference now is that he’s living in a condo his mom owns instead of at home. I have to admit, it’s hard for me to relate to his lack of direction at this stage. When I was younger than he is now, I couldn’t wait to move out. Once I did, I adjusted quickly—even factoring in living with my ex.

I assumed it might be similar for him, especially since he’s living with his girlfriend. Maybe that assumption was off. Maybe they weren’t as prepared for that transition as I thought.

The thing is, I don’t doubt his ability. Max is capable—he’s always been capable. It doesn’t seem like a question of whether he can do something, but whether he can stay focused on it long enough.

He told me before that he is thinking about asking his girlfriend to marry him next year. I just see that as another long-term learning experience he is not ready for.