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The Squeaky Wheel






My mother always used to say, "The squeaky wheel," never finishing the quote. I found out the ending through google, "...always gets the grease." In other words, it takes the right type of complaining to get something accomplished.

Well, I'm the squeaky wheel. Have always been, given the way I'm wired. In the past, I was heavily involved in NYC politics and the community where I was one in millions and barely stood out in the crowd. Lately, I'm noticeable in a town of 250 residents for ten months a year. Over the past four years, I've been maligned for my squeaky wheel - for pointing out how things just don't seem to work no matter how many times people insist they do.

Honestly, I'm amazed they haven't shot me in the head or burnt down my house by now. It may have something to do with being a squeaky wheel.

Just the other day, I was down at the post office, the Number #1 hub of activity in my small town when one of the local honchos hailed me.

"Did you read today's local paper? Everything you said about that public radio station over the past year is true and made the headlines. The general manager had to resign."

Over the past year, I made some potent enemies: the general manager of the local public radio and his minions not to mention a publicly elected town official who extorted money from me.

Again, it's amazing I'm still alive and not dead from a bullet hole in my skull.

"Yeah, I know ALL about it," I informed the honcho. "As a matter of fact, I'm inundated with emails from over 30 people requesting me to make a presentation at the upcoming Board meeting next week requesting audits."

"You should go," he said.

"Well," I equivocated. "For the past year, those same people ignored me, crossed streets to avoid me and now that I'm right, now they want me to stand up for them even though they ran for cover."

"Not everyone's as strong as you."

"It isn't strength. If we were thirteen years old, I may accept that behavior. But, these are people in their forties, fifties and sixties. Inexcusable behavior to not even greet me in public?"

I knew the tide changed with this pea-pod group when one in their midst sent me a FB friend request two weeks ago. He adored my first novel, considered it a masterpiece and interviewed me on NPR only to drop all ties with me the moment the General Manager "fired" me from the station. I sent him links to download for free two of my edating comedy series and he didn't even open the email.

"They're scared that someone may see them talking to you and tell the General Manager and they'd lose their volunteer positions."

I sneered. "Simply bullshit. And a matter of time before they stab me in the back. I know these kinds of people."

"Well, Maura, you gotta suck it up otherwise you'll be all alone."

Now we devolve from community oriented stuff to my personal life. From the lofty to the banal.

I don't suck it up which is why I AM all alone. I'm very demanding of my friends, family (my sister-in-law, Kay) and lovers. But, I feel that I'm a rewarding relation, friend and lover for some people have been in my life forever. And some pass through. Still, others, bounce in and out as we undergo the journey called life.

My major demand from my sister-in-law, friends and lovers is to have my back. Meaning, look after me and support me whether it's from my decisions or from others. I never had to ask this from anyone until recently as it used to be a given. Or, perhaps I now recognize I have to tell people precisely what I want from them.

My last two 'important' relationships, I had to tell them what I wanted from them. It was a painful thing to do as I believe these are basic tenets of a romantic relationship. Outside of being Numero Uno in their lives (after once taking a backseat in a relationship), the other demand is for them to have my back.

OH BOY! You'd think I asked these guys to remove their spleens with a rusty knife! To recap the last relationship to those new readers, I spent nine months on and off with a guy who I thought was simply fabulous except for the following which were grounds for two break-ups:

  1. We met on twitter through his catfish (who I knew was a man posing as a woman). When the catfish was exposed in the newspapers, the guy contacted me, thinking I was in cahoots which led to video chats and then meeting in real life. I was under the impression he was a stupid victim.
  2. The ex-boyfriend continued to interact with the catfish, never asking for the return of his computer equipment and money. And, no shame involved in masturbating in front of an empty web camera for him! He said to me, "I've done worse things," which I mistakenly thought was simply macho bravado to cover humiliation. The joke was on me. He was NOT a victim, but a willing participant.
  3. While the catfish attacked me on twitter for 8 months, the ex-boyfriend never told him to stop. Which was the reason for the first break-up. Instead, after we got back together, the ex-boyfriend blocked me on twitter and to this day (and ever after) follows the catfish.
  4. The ex-boyfriend divulged, after I got emotionally involved, that he did porn in bondage films and said no sex was involved. Bullshit to the last, he did have sex and these are the cum shots:



Sit on my face again, Ma! This time, no hands, only feet!

My friends and I viewed around 12 of these poorly made movies where he failed to mention he was a sex slave - you know, the one who gets inflicted by torture (too gross and stupid to post here). It wasn't only the films, it was his lifestyle for 17 years in which he's still involved WHILE with me!

The things one can find out through the internet!

Shit, I wish I knew this stuff from the beginning. Where I'm going with all this narrative is what occurred the previous evening. While I watched tv, texted a friend and did some fun stuff, the catfish went off on me on twitter for four hours. My fans sent me copies. At the same time, the ex-boyfriend was also on twitter and of course he knew they were aimed at me for he tweeted:

Sometimes I'll see a subtweet and think, whoa, wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that one.

The following day, as a sidebar conversation, I discussed this with my friend who joined us the last time he visited. She was quite surprised he didn't intervene to tell the catfish to stop. 

"But we broke up," I explained. "He never stood up for me while we were together, so why should he start now?" And that's when something in the back of my mind clicked. The catfish posted a comment during his tirade including an intimate detail which occurred months AFTER we last spoke.

"Wait a sec," I said. "The catfish wrote something only the ex-boyfriend knew and no one else!" Everything came together. "Ah! It all makes sense now. They NEVER stopped communicating!"

That was my AHA! moment and a dull one at that. Because I'm emotionally done with those perverts and had been for a while. I'm at the stage where I accept the ex-boyfriend is a sick fuck. He never was in a relationship with me which is why he never had my back. His relationship's with the catfish - they'll never physically consummate their love, but they're great at mindfucking each other and getting off on it. I was the chess piece, hopefully the Queen.

I guess the $260 he sent me for a tattoo was his way for paying for his masturbatory pleasures with the catfish for I never understood why he sent me that money AFTER we broke up, AFTER I published blog pieces about his porn career.

I'm quite peculiar as a squeaky wheel. I obsess over why certain pieces of a puzzle don't mesh. While an admirable trait as a former business analyst, it ain't so good getting over relationships that simply don't make sense when you scratch the surface. When I'm done with these relationships, they're out of my mind unlike everything else that occurs in my life.

As a squeaky wheel, regardless of whether it's romance or local politics, I'm gonna let people know. It has nothing to do with being strong as per the local honcho. It's because the best part is crowing, "I told you so!"



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1 comment:

Michael Seese said...

A lot going on in this post. But one thing stands out. "If we were thirteen years old, I may accept that behavior. But, these are people in their forties, fifties and sixties." Some people never learn courage.