Bumfuck Michigan

I threw on some clothes and got into the Buick. Driving up North Ave and Capac roads at night this time of year is like flirting with death. Not your own, although that could happen too, but more likely the death of a deer.

I remember a few years back, Sam and I were driving up North Avenue during the middle of a summer day to get to our favorite biking trail and countering nine deer carcasses along the side of the road.

Why was I driving up these rural roads at 12:30 a.m. on a Saturday night? It started with a text I received much earlier in the day. 

Violet: Missing talking to you...I've had a busy, overwhelming week; hopefully, yours has been okay. I'm going to be at the club tonight if you want to pop in and talk for a little bit. I know it sucks spending time together there, but I do miss you...I completely understand if you can't, though.

I saw her the week before. She knows I like seeing her, but she also knows I don't like going all that way to the club. I texted her back a few hours later when I saw her text.

Me: I'm going out with Max and his girlfriend tonight so they can gush over their engagement. (eyeroll emoji) You can call me later, though.

Yes, Max got engaged, but that is a story for a different post.

At eleven, I received another text from Violet.

Violet: I didn't end up going into work. I'm actually having maybe the worst night of my life so far. I think I need help.

I replied immediately.

Me: What's wrong? Do you need to talk?

Violet: I'm not alone. I can't talk yet. I'm about to be stranded and have no place to live though.

I'm on my way to get my belongings and then I don't know what I'm doing because I won't have transportation. i might be able to get an Uber, I don't know.

Me: I have a spare room. Do you need a ride or would that just cause more problems?

Violet: I might have no other choice. but to get a ride because I'm out in bumfuck and I don't know if Uber is going to accept late where I am at. I'm going to get packed and try to figure out if I can get a cab or something. Where do you live again?

I gave her my general location.

Violet: Okay, I'm going to get off here and save my battery until I get back and get my stuff packed. I'm on 19%. I'll let you know soon.

Then, a few minutes later.

Violet: I'm going to Loves in Capac right now.

Me: Call me when you can and let me know what you want to do.

Violet: Can u pick me up?

Me: Yes, 45 minutes.

That was what sent me out drive north in the middle of the night--dodging deer (I saw at least four, one in the middle of the road), and wishing I had taken the truck.

I texted her one more time, saying I was ten minutes out. She responded okay. Loves sits off I-69 in rural Michigan, a twenty-four-hour truck stop with a convenience store and an attached McDonald's. There is nothing else worth noting around it.

I parked in front beneath the neon red heart and yellow Loves sign. There was no sign of Violet. I went inside the bright-lit store and checked all around. There was no sign of her. I got back in my car.

Me: I'm here, but I don't see you.

Violet: I'm by the McDonald's. Where are you at?

I got out and walked around the side of the closed McDonald's. There was a black truck parked further back in the lot. There was no way I was going to go up to that. I got back in my car.

Me: I'm in front of Loves. Red car.

Imagine this at night

She didn't respond, but shortly after, a young kid in a silver or grey mid-size SUV pulled up next to me. I glanced over while sitting in my car and smoking my vape. He didn't get out of his car. He stayed for a few moments and then pulled out.

I didn't hear anything else from Violet. I waited another twenty minutes. Then tried calling her. Her phone went to voicemail. After that, I drove back home, thinking I'm too old to be rescuing girls in the middle of the night.

I have a few theories of what happened. You'll probably come to the same conclusions. Still, I can't answer everything.

It's Sunday, and I haven't heard from her. I'm a bit concerned for her safety. This is a kid she has a restraining order against, but there is not much I can do. If she wants to contact me, she can. She has my phone number (if he didn't delete and block it), she has my email, and CashApp. Where there is a will, there is a way.

Flight

Friday, Violet reached out to me over text.

Violet: I'm at Flight Club if you wanna stop and talk for a minute.

Violet: (The) Past couple weeks have been crazy for me, can't really dive into it all on the phone, but it would be nice to see you...I know you don't like coming in here, though.

Me: Are you working tomorrow?

I went in to see her Saturday. I can't resist the promise of a good story.

Violet is taking steps toward getting herself out of her current situation. It's not going to be anytime soon, though. 

We do enjoy talking with each other. We talked for a long time, and I continue to learn more about her. 

Violet still struggles with giving up her daughter for adoption. She knows she picked a good couple, a lawyer and a judge. She gets to see blog posts. Still, she wishes she could be her mom.

I don't know how hard that can be. I couldn't tell her she made the right choice. What I did know was that her time in her daughter's life was not necessarily over. "One day, your daughter is going to be eighteen, and might want to know her birth mom. That's very likely."

"I know thirteen years. I'm counting them down," she says.

"Focus on becoming the woman you want your daughter to meet."

She wants to continue our connection. "I always feel better after talking to you." She tells me.

She suggested calling me.

"Sure, just call me on your way to or from work."

I like that idea. Hopefully, she does. It would be a step in the right direction.

Querying

The hardest thing for me to balance in my query letter is that the story is about relationships that form around the Detroit strip club environment, but it is not a male strip club book.

One guy from the workshop asked to read it and said:

I think it is a great book and will be a big seller, maybe even a movie.

I’m not usually down for stories about strip joints, especially from the POV of dudes, especially patrons getting involved with the talent, but this tale is different: lyrical. 

I trust & like the narrator, and feel compelled to follow his journey and turn the page to see what happens next.

This has not been an isolated response. They have preconceived ideas about what the story will be about, but once they start reading, they find out it is much more. 

I've worked very hard and shaped this book compared to my first attempt. This version is much stronger and a totally different read. I just need one agent willing to take a leap of faith.

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.