Chapter 33: GNO and I Run Away to Ruth

Two weeks earlier, before my world imploded and almost destroyed me, Liz told me another ‘Guess who I met today at the job site story, which was my cue to retreat into Marty World. Right after asking her question, Liz gave me her cell phone to show me a picture and free her hands up for storytelling. I quickly exited Marty World when I saw the image on the screen Liz took of the subjects of her story; two women who would be close seconds to my wife in any beauty contest. While struggling to keep my mouth shut, I began listening to Liz’s fable.

“ ... came back from the hardware store with a load of 2X6 lumber, and there were two Corvettes parked on the street, a copper 71 Stingray and a Lemans Blue 2007 ZR1.”

Using my fingers, I blew up the picture, then returned to the story.

“ ... KC is the blonde, the stingray is hers, and the ZR1 belongs to Electra. They recently started dating Chad, a carpenter, and John, a bricklayer.”

“Where do they work to afford a Corvette?”

“Oh, they’re dancers, and I’m going to hook up with them to go shopping tomorrow. Georgie knows I won’t be in.”

George was the contractor building our home. These girls are dancers, and that I could believe. Before returning her phone, I sent the picture to my email.

The next evening, when I arrived home on time, the house was dark, and Liz’s Escalade was missing from the driveway. Since I didn’t want to cook, I made sandwiches and grabbed a couple of beers before settling in my recliner to watch TV. I took my first bite as Liz burst through the door carrying three shopping bags and a bag of barbecue from a place I went to once.

“I’m sorry, Marty, I lost track of time. I brought you a couple of pulled pork sandwiches that smell good.” Their barbecue smells good but tasted like crap the only time I ate there.

“I made my own; you eat them.”

“Oh, we ate inside.” Well, that’s a lie she just told. The dining room inside was a dump, fit only for druggies that hang out there.

She started talking about her day, but I didn’t tune in until I heard the words girls’ night out.

“What did you say, girl’s something?”

“Girl’s night out, probably on a Wednesday night because they’re both off. We’re still ironing out the details, so it won’t happen until late next month.”

Fortunately, the Marty radar was fully operational, which kept an eye out for crazy Liz.

The next morning, Liz slept past her usual wake-up time. As I was leaving for work, her purse was on the counter, and since she lied to me, I opened it up and found a receipt for a different restaurant, ‘Jianna’ with a date/time stamp, yesterday at 3:45. I was about to replace it and leave when I decided to check her wallet. Folded inside were three more receipts from Greenville’s best department stores, totaling; mother trucker over $3,700. Well, Liz didn’t bring home anything except a few bras, a pair of sandals, and a hat.

When I got to work, I made a five-minute call from my car and forwarded an email before walking in late.

Twelve days later, I got home from work at my usual time, and the kitchen was dark. As I looked down the hall, Liz came out of the bedroom, startling me, and stepping backward, I almost fell over the coffee table. She was wearing a mini wrap dress with long translucent sleeves that were silver and sparkled, and the bottom part of the dress was so high that I could almost see if she had panties on. A pair of four-inch wedge shoes that she loved to wear dancing completed her outfit.

In addition, she was wearing gold hoops in her ears and a silver choker with a two-carat diamond in the center that was a birthday gift from me. Her eighteen-carat gold and diamond watch was on one wrist, and several gold bangle bracelets were on the other. Topping off this bizarre nightwear outfit, Liz was wearing an Auburn wig, with big curls over the shoulders hanging down her back. She was carrying a small gold clutch in her left hand.

“Wow” was what I said, but I thought she looked like a high-priced hooker.

She smiled and did a pirouette for me.

“Where are we going tonight? Do I need to change?”

The doorbell rang, and I looked at Liz, and she waved her hand, meaning I should open the door. Boy, my heart stopped when I opened the door. Two women wearing less than Liz were standing on the porch, her new friends KC and Electra.

I stammered a bit, “Um, please come in, um, I’m husband, Liz’s Marty, I mean...”

They ignored me as they brushed past and did that cheek smooch thing, then turned around, and all three posed with a hand on their hip before walking toward the door without a ‘hello, goodbye, or fuck you?’ I stepped in front of Liz before she got to the doorway, and I closed and locked the door before leaning against it.

“Is there something we need to discuss?”

“Marty, get out of the way. I’m just going out dancing, aren’t I allowed to have fun once in a while?”

Her dismissive tone was pissing me off, so I responded in anger.

“So you haven’t had any fun, what since we met? Your selective memory is incredible. Did that start when you met those strippers who work at the ‘Lust Gentlemen’s Club’ dancing topless for deviants and perverts? Have you watched them dance two feet in front of men, letting them slip five and ten dollar bills under their G string, with their greasy fingers lingering on their mound? Were you so jealous when you watched them dancing that you wanted to get a job, stripping at night? Have they told you about the private lap dances they give behind closed doors?”