A good story is like a river. To understand and get the most out of
it, you must first understand the topography at the time the river is
formed. Rivers, like life, never run straight. They are bent in certain
areas because of obstructions like boulders and hard bedrock. Rivers
always follow the path of least resistance and follow gravity’s influence
causing them to bend and sway. They also never start out as rivers.
Rivers are formed by smaller waters joining together: brooks, streams,
creeks, drainage easements, and even other rivers. I tell stories like I
am explaining how a river formed. I start with the topography (what
was going on around the story), gravitational influences (people, like
rivers typically follow the path of least resistance). Then I add streams,
brooks, creeks, and joining rivers (other small stories that combine to
make more sense of the main story) so you can understand the story
in its entirety. I hope you enjoy this style as this is the first time I have
told a story in written form.
This story, as is true of any story, is told from my memories and my point
of view. It is – My Reality. Others involved may remember it differently
from their point of view. My research leads me to the conclusion that
this is – The Mostly True Story of How I Became a Sociopath.
Movies and Television always have sound-tracks to aid in adding
emotions to their stories. Until now, books do not come with sound
tracks. This one does – kind of. With the technology in most cell phones
and computers you can easily pull up songs or build a playlist to listen
to while reading this book. I will have the artist and song title listed at
the appropriate time to play it.
Make sure you use legal means for your playlists so you
will not be guilty of piracy and face possible fines and
imprisonment. These artists should be compensated
for the awesome songs they have given our world.
You can continue to read while the song plays or take a break and jam
out with the sound track. They will be listed like this:
*Backstreet Boys – “The Call”
I highly suggest using this feature. There will be a complete chronological
playlist on the next page for those who want to download the entire
sound-track and have it ready to go. I hope you enjoy this feature as
much as I do. Everything is better with good music.
I have entered “Side Notes” throughout the book. These are not part
of the story, yet are important to understanding the story and how my
mind works. I also inserted quotes from research done on Sociopathy
to add to understanding how the professional assumptions about
Sociopaths have some validity.
Please forgive me for not being a professional writer or complete master
of the English language, I am a professional tradesperson. To all the
people that I’ve hurt in the past I sincerely apologize. Please don’t judge
me, I can’t help it - I am a sociopath.
Sample from Chapter 2
Above: Actual picture from the story below.
My Horrifying - Naturally Occurring Alternate Reality
I have a picture taken in 1972 of me at seven years old, my sister at four
years old, and my brother at nine years old during an outing to a petting
zoo. I remember that day very well. Our father took us for the day
because he had visitation rights/duties. Back then we didn’t know our
parents were going through a bitter divorce. We were used to our father
not being around much all our lives and never understood why. This day
he piled us in his car and took us to another house to pick up another
person, our little sister (half-sister) who was around three years old.
Again, at that time I did not know this was our sister or comprehend
what was going on. We left that house with her and proceeded to go to
another house where there was another woman and picked up another
baby. My father kissed the mother (who was about six months pregnant)
goodbye just as he did with the woman at the previous house and we
were on our way to the petting zoo. There were pictures taken with
all of us together, but I only have the one with the three of us that my
father had taken to show as proof that he had only taken the three of us
with him that day. To me, this was proof of him raising three families
at the same time. Where my mother knew about the first family (hence
the divorce), I have no idea if she knew about the other woman and
the two offspring that came out of that union. I also doubt that the
woman in his second family knew anything about the 3rd woman and
those children (two girls as it turns out) in the third family. Here are
four people who for a time had no idea of each other and were living
four totally separate realities (except for my father) within the same
true reality of life. All of it possible because my father was obviously a
sociopath. For those involved, each had their own reality. My mother
found out the man she was in love with and married to for nine years
had been cheating on her. My sister was too young at four years old to
remember any of this. My brother loved his father so much he went into
denial about anything my father could have done wrong. All I know of
the first other woman was that she was in love and told my half-sister
that my father loved her and was planning on marrying her once the
divorce was final, which happened to be the day after the car accident.
What the third woman knew or lived as her reality is uncertain, but
what I am certain of is that her reality was different from what everyone
else was going through.
That evening brought one of the worst days of my life. We were used
to my father getting drunk and becoming abusive to the point where it
was normal for us to have to sneak out of our bedroom window onto
our back-porch roof to escape. I would jump to the ground, then my
brother would lower our four-year-old sister down to me as best he
could before he would drop her into my arms, then he would jump to
the ground. Once we were all accounted for we would run across the
street to Deena and Rochelle’s house and have their mother call the
police. We would stay there and play until my mother came and got
us once all was clear. Like I said, this was a very common occurrence
and got to the point where it was no big deal, it was normal. The night
after returning from the petting zoo was a different story. Once we
got to Deena and Rochelle’s house they could see the terror in our
eyes and everything went into panic mode. Deena and Peter went
running upstairs screaming to get an adult to call the police. I remember
Rochelle being very concerned and hugging me as I cried.
Sample from Chapter 4
My wife has two super powers. The first is that she was totally immune to all my powers, which is one of the reasons I married her. The second is an incredible one that has always caused me grief. My wife’s second super power is that she can instantly tell if I had had intercourse with a girl, regardless of how long ago it was. It is both annoying and very funny.
I first found out about her second super power one week after our
engagement. We went on a hike in a state park up the mountains
following the waterfalls. This was her idea and I was both shocked and
pleased by her suggestion. She was a city girl while I was a country boy. For me, the thought of her liking tromping through the woods was a huge plus in her favor. As we got to the parking lot she announced, “Shit, I forgot my contacts.” She was very near sighted and could only see about 15 feet without them.
“Just wear your glasses.” I thought was a great solution.
She growled, “I am not wearing my glasses in the woods.” Later I found out it had more to do with looking good for the pictures she planned on taking than because of the possibility of messing up or losing the spectacles. “I won’t need to see far once we are on the trail anyway.” Just as we walked out of the parking area I heard, “Who is that?”
I looked around expecting to see someone close to us or near the car
only to see there was not a person anywhere around us. “Where?” I ask.
“Straight ahead. The blonde with the older man.” She bobs her head to
point in the direction rather than finger pointing. “You had sex with
her, didn’t you?”
I looked in that direction to see 70 yards’ worth of well cleared out
wooded area before getting to the trails and what appears to be a
young blonde girl with a tall gray haired man. At 20-years-old, I had
20/10 vision. “I can’t even tell who that is and I have the vision of a
hawk. You’re blind as a bat, how can you even see that far without your
“I know you had sex with her. Who is she?” she demanded.
“I have no idea. I can’t see that far.” They are walking toward the
parking lot so we are getting closer by the second as my wife continued with her claim. Finally, around 40 yards apart I can see who it is, but now I am sticking with my story that I have no idea who this girl is. That strategy has worked for me in the past and why deviate from what works. “I have never seen her before in my life.” I claim with authority.
My fiancé gives me the evil stare as if she is trying to make my head
explode, “Don’t lie to me. You had sex with her!”
“I have no idea who that is.” Then I mistakenly tried using reason, “I
have not had sex with anyone except you in (pause)” Oh crap!
“In what?” I’m screwed. There is no acceptable answer that she would
believe, or agree upon as acceptable. At about ten yards from us she
loudly barks at me, “Do you know who she is now?”
I mutter softly, “No.”
At about 10 feet away the girl looked right at me and says, “Hi Steve.”
I answered back with, “Hi Jennifer.” This is going to be a very, very, bad day to be me. Jennifer was on a walk with her father. I am surprised he didn’t say something or just punch me. I guess her father figured that I was dead meat anyway and that he would let my fiancé tear me apart.
The previous September, on my fiancé’s 21st birthday, I had made big
plans to take her to a nice dinner and propose to her. I called her around 4 pm that day and cancelled. The reason I gave her was that my friends had planned a surprise party for me and I would take her out for her birthday dinner the following night. The real reason was that I had wanted to hook up with Jennifer and she was only available that Friday night. You did hear that right. I moved back my proposal/21st birthday dinner date with my girlfriend (now wife) so I could nail a hot blonde.
*Backstreet Boys – “The Call”
Yes, I know what you are thinking – “What is wrong with you?” Once
again – Sociopath – can’t help it.
My future wife went off on me for the next two hour hike up the
waterfalls. I know that a concussion is caused by blunt force trauma to the head, but I am sure that it can also be caused by getting fussed out by a mad woman for two hours straight. I still have no recollection of how the conversation went. I only know that it was painful and that I lost.
Actual photo from hike up the waterfall that day.
Sample from Chapter 4
The Barney Stinson of Hunlock Creek
I love the show “How I Met Your Mother”. The character of Barney
Stinson reminds me so much of how I used to operate. The writers of
that show must know a sociopath because they have that character
perfect. If you want to see a great example of a functioning sociopath,
watch that show. In one of the wedding episodes Barney’s fiancé, Robin, made a comment about Barney being a sociopath. Barney’s character is always using fake names, playbook moves, quoting the Bro Code, has no regard for women other than sex objects, and has a skewed version of reality. He is hilarious. I love that guy.
One Sunday afternoon in 1984 I received a phone call from Joyce. Joyce
has been my friend Larry’s girlfriend for five years and practically lived with Larry and his family. She would only be calling for two reasons.
Reason 1 – She has heard rumors about my
prowess and wants to try the dark side.
Reason 2 – Larry is in trouble because of cause/effect vortex
from going out with me and Rich the night before.
“Steve, this is Joyce. Do you have a few minutes to answer some
questions?” she asked.
“Sure, go ahead.” I answered nonchalantly hoping for reason #1.
“Do you ever give girls fake names?” Dang, its reason #2.
“Yes”. I never give out too much information.
“Have you ever told a girl that your name is Larry Lester?”
“Umm”, I act as if I had to think on it, “Yes.”
“Do you ever give girls a fake phone number?” Her voice getting stern.
“Always” I reply without a flinch.
“Have you ever given a girl Larry’s phone number and told her it was
your phone number?” She is starting to sound aggravated.
Now I am beginning to feel tension so I reply with a hint of attitude,
“Yes, I’m quite sure I have done that.”
She takes it up another notch, “Have you ever told a girl that your name is Larry Lester and given her Larry’s phone number as your phone number?”
“That sounds like something I would do. Yes, I’m pretty sure I have.”
Click – dial tone. She hung up on me.
Being someone who does not concern myself with things like other
people’s problems or feelings, even though I caused the reported
problems, I continued with my daily activities without a care.
The next day I found out from Rich what happened. A girl I had hooked up with the night before had called Larry’s house and Joyce had answered the phone. She asked Joyce to speak with Larry. Joyce asked who was calling and the girl introduced herself as Larry’s girlfriend. Joyce, looking right at Larry the entire time giving him the evil eye, got the caller’s name and phone number and told her that Larry would call her back as soon as he got in. Joyce, thinking her man had cheated on her, let Larry have it. Larry having nowhere to hide blamed it on me and told Joyce how I give girls fake names and numbers all the time. He begged her to call me herself to confirm it and she did.
The next day I was visited by my best friend Rich Priest. Rich and I
had been close friends since I was about nine years old. Somewhere
in the middle of my junior year in high school he had taken over the
number one friend spot from Erin. Rich was one of the gang and after
my brother, Stan, and Shag graduated from high school and moved
on to college the gang shrunk to me, Rich, Erik, and Erin. Rich and I
would go fishing every day of the summer and I would see Erin almost
every night. Rich was one year younger than me and I had taken him on some of my excursions picking up girls at our high school girls athletic events. Where I had a problem with growing any facial hair at that age, Rich already had a full mustache by 9th grade and fancied himself a young Tom Selleck.
Rich told me what was going on behind the scene at Larry’s house. After her brief conversation with me, Joyce called the girl back. According to Rich, told to him by Larry, the conversation
went something like this.
“Hi, this is Joyce. You called about one hour ago for Larry.” Responses
from the other end are not known. “Larry says he has no idea who you
are. You may have the wrong Larry. What does your Larry look like?”
The girl describes me. “Oh. That’s Steve Ross. He is a jackass. He gives
girls fake names and phone numbers all the time so you can’t find him if he gets you pregnant. His real phone number is ###-###-####. You should give him a call.” The girl never called me, and Larry was never allowed to do anything if I was involved. There was a different reason I would give fake names and phone numbers that had nothing to do with dodging pregnancy and everything to do with how I became a sociopath.
*Eminem – “The Real Slim Shady”
Chapter 14 Sample
All eyes and ears were focused on David and he continued, “I ran into Rich about a month ago and we were talking about how there should be a statute of limitations on grenade sitting and how we should be compensated for it after 25 years.” He was laughing, but I could tell there was a hint of truth to what he and Rich had discussed.
“Oh, that reminds me of a joke.” I sat up on the edge of my seat all excited as if I was going to share something hilarious. “A blonde, a brunette, a red head, and a Puerto-Rican girl show up at my door one day. The blonde is the first to speak and she says…“ I paused and acted like I forgot something before continuing, “Oh crap David, I forgot that I have already told you this joke before haven’t I?”
David got real serious, “Yes, you have.”
“OK. That’s good because I forgot the rest of the joke. You know how it is getting old, we forget things.” My tone was serious to the point where it was ominous.
David understood exactly where I was coming from. “Yea, I forget things too sometimes. It’s OK. I understand just fine.”
“So what were we talking about?” I asked as if I forgot.
“Rich, we were talking about Rich.” David partially changed the subject and was now nervously fidgeting in his seat.
“That’s right. You were telling me that you and Rich were joking around about extorting money from me for wing man duties.” I am to the point where I am beginning to get angry.
David changed his tune, “It was Rich joking about it. I was just there. You know how Rich likes to joke?”
“Yea, Rich is hilarious. He must be getting old too. He knows that no monetary value could ever be put on wing man duties and therefore wing man duties are both timeless and priceless.” I am going to start frightening people so I had better calm down, but I can’t. “Rich is starting to forget things. Maybe I should stop by tomorrow and remind him of things. I wouldn’t want my funny friend to forget – things.”
David is trying to calm me down, “No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll call him tomorrow and remind him about things for you.”
Rich’s Grenades – Side Story
The last time Rich and I ever hung out together we had a conversation that went like this. Rich being distraught, “Did you know that Jennifer had a baby 9 months after her date with you?”
I reply with a shoulder shrug and “Great for her.”
“So did Tammy, Sharon, and Jessica.” He looked me in the eyes expecting a different reaction, but got another shoulder shrug and the same attitude. “One or two could be coincidence, but there have been about 15 girls who have had a baby 9 months after going on a date with you.”
“If any of them suspected that I was the father they would have contacted me.” I replied with attitude. “Nobody has contacted me about anything like that so obviously, I had nothing to do with any of them getting pregnant. What are you getting at Rich?”
He took a deep breath, “Do you know what it is like when you get dirt and grease on your hands and no matter how hard or how long you scrub or what kind of soap you use it just won’t come clean?” He said as he was looking at his hands as if they were dirty.
“Yes, I hate that.” I had no idea where he was going with that, but I was used to random stuff coming out of Rich’s mouth.
“My soul feels like that.” With that he stood up and said, “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” He began the walk to his car. This was in the aftermath of a grenade exploding on me in front of him and a few other friends at my last camping trip at Sun Lake eight months into my marriage. I was so bad back then that I permanently soiled my wingman’s soul.
Of course, I took the high road (that was sarcasm, I was incapable of taking any high road back then), “OK. Whatever. I’m going to see if I can get two of the Karrol sisters to join me in a three way.” I said as I headed for my car. That was the last time I spoke with Rich other than cordial small talk in just two meetings over the past 27 years. Rich is sitting on enough grenades of mine that if they ever went off at the same time they would be the equivalent of a nuclear bomb.
Chapter 15 Sample
As soon as they left, she came up to me and asked me to dance saying, “I asked them to play this song for us.”
*Usher – “Yeah”
Back in those days I was in the best shape of my life. I had a 32” waist, 32.5” thighs, washboard stomach, and 18.5” biceps. The down side of this was that I couldn’t wear regular pants and this was before the invention of body builder apparel. I had to get these parachute type pants and they only came in thin white cotton and they were still snug on my legs. She was wearing a short dark mini-skirt with no underwear and white low cut top and no bra. As we started to dance she straddled my right leg as we began to swing back and forth while getting lower until her crotch hit my thigh. As soon as it did, I felt warmth and wetness as she wiggled it harder and harder against me until she had an orgasm on my leg. She spun off and began dancing on her own as I stood there in shock. I looked to my right and there were Marcus, Phillip, and Hugh staring at my leg, then at her, then at me, back to her, and ending at my leg. My pants were stuck to my thigh and it looked and felt like someone poured a cup of hot water on my leg. I looked at them, then at her, then my leg, back to them, and ended back at her.
Twenty minutes later we were making out and she asked me not to move and let her do her thing. Her thing was chewing off half of my mustache because she didn’t like how it felt.
*Justin Timberlake – “Love Stoned”
She was wild and a lot of fun. I had proven enough to them that my Projection technique worked and started dating…