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.

Site Title

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.


Side note: This is why, if I was to ever hear of anybody mistreating
Rochelle, they will wish they never had. I am the master of pain and
if they were lucky enough to still be conscious after a few seconds
they would be able to beg for me to just kill them quickly to stop
the pain. Unfortunately, they will most likely be unconscious and I
will not stop the pain without them asking. I am always courteous
and polite like that.

My father was drunk as usual and this time had a gun. He was screaming
that if he couldn’t have us all the time then nobody would. He only
had one bullet so he lined us up so he could take us out with one shot.
Somehow my aunt showed up and all 4’10” and 89 pounds of her
tackled him and we sprinted for the window. This was my life at six
and seven years old. Nobody should ever have to go through that and
especially at such a young age. Maybe he was bluffing, I don’t know.
I may have remembered it wrong, but why am I shaking and crying
typing this. The only people outside our immediate family who knew
about this were my Deena, Rochelle, their parents, and one of my aunts.
Nobody else knew anything about the horrors of our reality and the
affect it had on us.


Side Note: This is why since the age of 17 when I first started
coaching five-year-old children in t-ball, I have dedicated most of
my life to working with children and making sure they have positive
experiences and feel loved and appreciated. No child should have a
childhood like I had. All children deserve awesomeness. If anyone
ever hurt one of the kids I have coached, please see Side Note above.

Shortly after this our mother started taking us to church. I remember
hearing how God answered prayers and how children were very special
to him. My father’s next drunk episode had brought me to ask God for
help. I asked God to permanently remove him from us so he couldn’t
hurt us or my mother ever again. The following day I remember my
mother loading us into the car and telling us we were going to spend
the next couple of days at our grandparent’s house. My brother asked
why and that is when our mother told us our father had died in a car
accident. My reply was, “Good, he can’t hurt you again.” My mother
slapped the shit out of me and told me to never say anything bad about
my father. I felt no remorse and thanked God (to myself) for answering
my prayer. My family is not going to like hearing any of that, but I don’t
care. It is time they learned and dealt with the truth. There is always a
positive to every negative. The positive for me was that I had developed
the desire and need to protect women and children at all costs. I took
it upon myself at the age of 7 to do all I could to cheer up my mother
when she was sad. I became an expert at making women laugh. A skill
that would serve me well the rest of my life.

Life was tough after that. A single mother with an 9th grade education
now had to raise 3 children on her own. My mother worked a lot to
feed us (or maybe partied a lot). Either way we, for the most part, raised
ourselves. We never had much, but were never embarrassed with what
we had or didn’t have. We didn’t even have land and became squatters.
Twenty years later my mother was trying to borrow money from me
to pay the back taxes so she could own the land outright. I didn’t have
enough to help and a month later her trailer burned to the ground.

None of my friends, classmates, or future girlfriends ever knew about
this stuff. That was my reality, not theirs. There are several reasons we
do not share our realities with others. Some are embarrassed to be living
such a life while others are afraid of ridicule or reprisal. For me it was
simply ignorance. I thought that everybody had the same reality. Why
would I talk about how my life was and complain about what I thought
was normal? It was far from normal, but I was fine with it because I
didn’t know it wasn’t how everybody lived. I know there are many of
you who felt the same way. As children, we just assume everybody is
living the same reality. Our parents in turn seem to keep us away from
those who have different realities possibly in part because they don’t
know better and possibly to keep us from realizing that life should
be lived differently than how we are living. Imagine a world where
everybody’s reality was transparent to the world. Change would happen
across the globe.

As an adult now, I know of people very close to me who had a reality
much different than mine growing up. There were those who had
healthy loving households, there were some with households like mine
(void of normalcy and adult supervision), and there were those with
physically (and sometimes sexually) abusive households. For most of
my life I had no idea what type of reality these people were having in
their lives right next to me and none of them knew what type of reality
I was living. I have no right to judge any of these people without living
in their reality and they (and you) have no right to judge me without
having lived in mine. The best I can do is show them love and respect
for who they are and let them know that I am OK with them as they
are right now and will not judge them by these things that formed who
they are which they had little or no control over. People who know my
immediate family (brothers and sisters) call me the normal one. That is
only because as a sociopath I act like a normal person to fit in – I fake
it. I can assure you that I am every bit as messed up as they are and that
I love them with all my heart.

Sample from Chapter 4 

Super Powers

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.

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.


The story continues:


“That would be great. We have to head back early and that would throw our schedule way off if I had to stop by Rich’s house just to remind him about things.” I didn’t have time to do that, but this is serious shit that needed to be handled right away. Apparently, Rich has forgot about the grenades I am sitting on for him; probably because I buried them somewhere only I know about for just such an occasion. David and  I stopped our conversation by taking our drinks and touching them together as if we were doing a celebratory toast, “To things” we said simultaneously.


“What the Fuck was that?”Jesse shouted.


I looked at him puzzled, “What?”

My son said, “That went from a pleasant conversation to some serious, straight up Gangster shit. That’s what.”


“No, no, no, your dad is just concerned about Rich getting old. Nothing more.” David interjected. It is time to change the subject again.


Still talking with David so everyone could hear, “I can’t believe that you never taught these guys the trade.” I said pointing to Brad, Bart, and Mike. “I held the King of Squirrel crown for 5-6 years. Then you held it for about 8-9 years, then one day you just retire and never passed it on to these guys.”

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…


Hold up. Before I mention her name, there is a story I need to tell you about her. I called her last night to talk to her. I wanted to get her permission to use her real name in this book and I also wanted to give her the opportunity to write her side of what happened and enjoy whatever spoils may come from sales of this book as well   as possible future movie rights. Understand that one thing that doesn’t change much over time is a voice. Ann, Carly, Stephany, and Erin all recognized my voice and I instantly recognized their voices, some after 25 years without hearing each other. I also instantly recognized this girl’s voice. I guess she is still upset over what eventually happened and tried to play mind games with me and tried the ‘Steve Ross’. The ‘Steve Ross’ is what I call it when I pretend I do not remember a girl I have had sex with to piss her off and yes this girl tried to ‘Steve Ross’ – me (Steve Ross). Bad idea to play mind games with a sociopath. The best-case scenario is you are bringing a knife to a gun fight and I wrote the book on mind games. I have also read many books perfecting my mind games including, but not limited to, ‘Games People Play: The Basic Handbook of Transactional Analysis by Eric Berne’ - 5 times for fun. She tried to pretend that she never heard of me.
First, I recognize your voice, I know it is you. Secondly, when someone mistakenly calls or is a wrong number, you don’t continue to talk to them asking questions for almost 15 minutes. Third, girls do not forget men they have had sexual relationships with – especially me. Fourth, either that two-page letter explaining how in love she was with me was a bunch of bullshit (I doubt it) or she remembers and recognizes my name and my voice instantly just like all the others.
I know it is not possible to remember everything correctly after 31 years and  I remember things from the reality that I was living at that time and not from her reality point of view, which is why I wanted her input on what her reality was and what went wrong from her point of view. I flipped it on her and started answering her questions wrong on purpose and she got mad at each wrong answer. She was the hottest #1 the world has ever seen and my remembering her wrong is like fingernails on a chalk board. If she was not the same girl I knew, wrong answers would not have made her angry. I had already written this so I am not going to change it a bit other than her name. I was going to use her real name out of respect, but since she didn’t remember me or give me permission I should use a pseudonym for her. I am thinking of using one of the following: Little Suzie Prissypants, Ima Dum Bitch, Eilyke Double Aynal,

Lisa Moore Fingers, Mie (pronounced like Pie) Dixie Wrecked, or Holda Grudge Forever.


I tried one of these names and had friends who said it was very funny and suggested that I keep it like that. I can’t do it. I still and will always love and respect her. Next to Carly, Erin, and Rochelle, she is the most special girl in the world to me. Being mad at me is one of her coping mechanisms and I will not deny her that. I am not putting the entire story of what went wrong because that is very personal stuff between her and me. What I will say about it  is that out of everyone I have ever hurt – she has justified reasons to hate me more than anyone else and hate me forever. By the way, it was great to hear your voice and I still love you and miss you. Sorry you are still mad at me, but you did much better without me in your life. You have my number, please call me some day just to talk or if you ever need me for anything. You and your daughter are in my prayers.


PS - You worked at Pizza Hut and I showed my cousin your picture (recent photo) and he recognized you. He remembers you playing with him every time we visited and remembers you as his favorite too. 51 years old and still gorgeous.


Sorry for the interruption. Let me continue with the story.


… Kayla for the next five months. She was Mom-Mom’s favorite and the one she wanted me to marry. If Mom-Mom only knew the details of how we met. Of course, I didn’t slow down on my regular antics as I continued to go after any squirrel that moved and tried to screw the rage out of me.


October 1984 -February 1985 - Kayla


My Grandmother was right about Kayla; she was the most perfect girl I have ever met. Yes, she had defense mechanisms like the rest of us and obviously, a past that caused it. I would suspect her past was like mine since we were both using the same mechanisms of denial and the sampler platter. I was sure she was seeing others the entire time we were together just like I was, but I am not sure if she spotted the signs that I was doing it although I knew she was. I was not OK with it, but used my denial skills to block it out.


Kayla was adventurous and fun and she was the whole package as a woman goes. Overall the most attractive girl I have ever met in my life both inside and out, and I have met some perfect looking girls. I have a recent picture of her and at 51 she is still gorgeous. Smart, witty, funny, beautiful, charming, kind, great with kids, sexy, personable, athletic, free spirited, and a complete badass – she had it all. She did not like wearing undergarments and had a wild sense of fashion. The night before I took her to pass the Mom-Mom test I tried to make sure she didn’t over-do the dress up thing. She liked to dress wild and had a thing for leather (I miss her). I wanted her to impress Mom-Mom and I asked her what she was wearing. She flipped it on me and asked what I was wearing. I told her I would wear old jeans, boots, and an old sweater (comfy clothes). She said she would wear the same so we could match. Whew, I was relieved.


The next morning, I drove one hour to her house and rang the doorbell. She opened the door and I busted up laughing. She asked what I was laughing about and I just said, “oh nothing, let’s go.” The drive to my Grandparents house was about 30 minutes and every five minutes or so I would start laughing and she would ask what I was laughing about. By the time we pulled into my Grandparents driveway she was getting aggravated at my laughing so I told her why I was cracking up. “You may not impress my Grandmother, but my Grandfather is going to love you dressed like that.” Her boots were three-inch spiked heel leather boots that came up to the middle of her thighs. Her old jeans had holes in them, lots of holes, large holes, holes in the back, holes in the sides, and holes in the front – no underwear and it was obvious (I could see pubic hairs from one of the holes in the front when she sat down). Her old sweater was knitted mesh and I don’t mean small holes type of mesh, I’m talking large holes, almost the size of fishnet – no bra and she is Italian. At least she was wearing a jacket over her sweater - a skin tight leather jacket. This is the most attractive female I have ever met or seen in my life, I couldn’t wait to see Pop-Pop’s reaction, but I was sure Mom-Mom was not going to like her because of how she was dressed. We went in anyway.


My Grandmother loved her so much that she invited her to Thanksgiving dinner (this was still October), and Kayla was the only girl my Grandmother ever invited to Thanksgiving dinner. I dated Ann for three and a half years and Mom-Mom liked her, but she was never invited to Thanksgiving dinner. Mom-Mom was still trying to convince me to marry Kayla ten years into my marriage. I remember telling her that Kayla was married and had a daughter and Mom-Mom told me to go for it anyway. Her exact words were, “I don’t care, and you two are perfect for each other.”


My Grandfather’s reaction was priceless. After talking with my grandmother in the kitchen for about twenty minutes we went into the living room to meet Pop-Pop who was watching a Mets game. Nothing ever interrupted his Mets game. As we stepped into the living room, my Grandmother told Kayla to take her jacket off and get comfortable (she was behind Kayla and did not realize what she was wearing under the jacket). If you are unsure of what this looks like, find someone with large breasts to put on a very tight leather jacket and watch how they take it off. Then imagine they are wearing a fishnet style sweater while doing it. Imagine they are doing this with large Italian dark nipples with no bra. Pop-Pop instantly jumped up out of his recliner and sprinted into the bathroom as if there was a dyer emergency and slammed the door and locked it behind him. Mom-Mom ran over to the bathroom door and began frantically asking him if he was OK repeatedly with no response and was eventually pounding on the door and freaking out. This went on for several minutes until she finally asked me to break the door down suspecting that he had had a heart attack and was dying on the bathroom floor. I can see just about any man having a heart attack just from watching Kayla taking off that jacket. Just before I was about to break the door down Pop-Pop finally opened it. He had spit his chewing tobacco out, put in his false teeth, and combed his hair (what little was left of it) with some hair gel to look as dapper as possible. He came out and sat down on the couch (not his recliner), turned the game off, patted the couch cushion next to him with his hand, and told Kayla, “come sit here sweetie.” OMG!!! Still laughing.


*Pussycat Dolls – “Don’t Cha”


Side note: Kayla looked a lot like Nicole Scherzinger
(Lead singer of Pussycat Dolls)

if Nicole had lighter brown eyes, size C cups, and a better body.


She had passed with flying colors and we went into the basement to have some alone time. That was when she first told me she was a black-belt and could kick my ass. I didn’t believe her so she showed me by doing a spin kick and snapping it off about 1/8th of an inch in front of my nose while wearing her spiked heel leather boots. It was so fast that I barely saw anything other than a twitch before I felt the breeze in my face. It turned me on. There is something about a girl who is a badass that turns me on immensely. Rhonda Rousey – hell yes. Carly Lloyd – Hottest woman on the planet to me right now. Beautiful and badass – I love you. After the martial arts expo, she put on an exhibition of strength, flexibility, and pure hotness by showing me how she could put her legs behind her shoulders and balance on her hands and rock back and forth while wearing nothing except for her spiked heel thigh- high leather boots. Kayla was awesome in every way possible.

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