Troy Burroghs Adventures: The Angry Maid (#3)

Surrealist-Traveler]

The bad thing about being a counselor is that it is like chewing bubble gum, yup that is exactly what I do, and just like that you just keep on doing it. I suppose I could pick out a better analogy but I can’t think of one. But did you know I had a brother. Oh yaw, a big brother, and this adventure takes me back a few years. I got to tell you about it. Why? Well, for my friends out there, if I have any; got to get it off my chest.

It was l969, my brother just got a divorce and had a number of girlfriends, and so I got to see a few. Well he was thinking about going back with his wife during this period of time. Well, I stopped over to his house, and there were a few people over their talking to him, and his maid, yup, he had a maid of all things. A hot shot you could say. And so…woops, his name is Mick. Now back on track. As I was saying, I stopped over to his house and we …woops, he had a beer, and I a coke [I was on the wagon]. As I was about to say, his friends were walking around aimlessly waiting for him. I guess he was going over to his youngest daughter’s house to see her, some kind of an ‘after-wedding shower,’ of sorts; she had gotten married two years before.

Samah, his maid started looking in the mirror powdering her face. Mick grabbed the mirror from her and made stupid looking faces in it, mocking her. I said to myself, is this brother doing such a thing. I knew we were a little strange, but not goofy like this: I mean he kind of reflects me, if not so, than our heritage, somewhere along the line.

Fine, to make a long story short, or a short story shorter, I guess that is the real truth of it, I asked Mick,

“What are you doing?”

“I have a contract with her she wants me to pay her off,” he commented.

Fine, I kind of knew what it meant, let me explain: He was going back to his ex-wife, and no longer needed her services, and for the most part could not afford them. And living in Montclair, California was a little expensive back then. I looked at Samah, and she was crying. I wasn’t sure if it was for the ridicule in front of his friends, or because she lost her job, or what. But it was a tense situation for me. Not sure why, everyone else seemed to be taking the situation quite well. My brother could have eaten an apple, and you’d not known if he had a worry on his mind: not considering his pocket book. But Mick and I are different. I take things a little different than him. Matter-of-fact, I often wondered if I could extract some of his genes and swallow them to calm me down; I got all the damn over-sensitive ones I think. That is not to say Mick does not feels, or has feelings, it simply implies he will most likely out live me by 30-years or so—anyways, back to the story.

We now were all standing by the bathroom door. The three guy friends of Mick in his apartment were by the bedroom waiting for Mick, and now here is the Maid crying, and Mick looking at me, and glancing at the Maid. She then went up to my brother and tore the contract up in front of his face.

Mick looked at her and said,

“That was nice,” cool as a bag of ice in the freezer.

And she turned around and continued to be angry and cried, but did not say anything bad: bad words that is like: .uck you or you ass…le or you son of a .itch (which I kind of expected).

Mick said,

“If you want Samah you’re invited to the party.”

She didn’t respond. I then approached her, said,

“Why not you and I have a cup of…a coke for me that is, I was going to say coffee, but I remembered I do not drink coffee if I’m going to have a counseling session, which she didn’t know this was going to be, only I.

Let’s try again: I said let’s go to a private room [Mick had three bedrooms], and talk. On the way I made her coffee, and grabbed a coke from the frig. In the bedroom she sat on the bed, I sat on a chair, and left the bedroom door open a crack. No sir, I’m a good counselor, not one of them: ‘I got you babe,’ ones. And I’m not going to let you think otherwise.

Any ways, let’s get to the good stuff. When I say good stuff, I guess I am implying I was proud of the Maid.

She said, “Yaw, now what.” I said to myself, every time I get a new client, that is what I get, “Yaw, now what.”

“I’m quite impressed in what you did,” I said.

She replied, “I bit my tongue, and I gave your brother an out, that’s all.”

“Oh, no, you didn’t. You gave yourself an out. You could have fought him in court and won, and it would take a few months, but you would have only got money. It would have went for an appeal, and taken another several months. And lawyers fees, and anger and you know, knots in the stomach; insomnia and a few headaches, all those kinds of psychological illnesses. What you really did was free yourself of the burden, so you can go on in life; and yes, Mick of a financial situation.”

“I suppose, I guess I just didn’t want to deal with it, and make a point.”

I said, “You made a point, and it was to let go. Revenge works on two people always. It is not simply the other person you are getting; it is yourself: believe it or not.”

“Yaw, I suppose, I kind of knew that I had to do something, guess he’d make my maid service hell for two years; miserable, you know.”

“Well,” I commented, “I guess you could put it that way, but from another angel, you’re allowing yourself to move beyond this point. Plus, you got a party indentation. And I recommend you go, who knows, maybe you might get another job. Plus, you’re good reputation is in tact. If some one hires you, they will see you’re not a hot head, but as someone under presser you can count on. Everyone out there has a bad day or financial upheaval in their lives. It is how people around you respond to it.”

“I suppose,” she said, but this time she was wiping her tears, and smiling. And then I told her a story about me. And I normally do not do this, but I did not want her to look back and say, ‘I wish I would have got him, I had the chance, and screwed him out of all that money.’

“You know Samah, the demons work on such a primes.” And so I added for safe keeping on her behalf,

“Samah let me tell you what happened to me on my third divorce. My wife found a boy friend, and I had a lasting and disabling illness at the time. She asked for a divorce. The lawyer told me I could get 70 to 85% of our assets because she was divorcing, or abandoning me during an illness. Well I thought, we don’t know the strengths and weaknesses or desires of our mate do we; and I’d like to have gotten the $85,000 retirement fund + the $22,000 +CD’s and house and other things in question, but I asked her for $1400. And to be honest with you she hesitated, and I explained to her I would not offer this twice, to talk to her lawyer, because I talked to mine.

“Well, she did, and the offer was taken. And I guess she did say something to the effect, ‘Why?’ I never answered the question. But I will tell you. First of all, money is only money. You can make more, and I did, my best revenge was becoming a millionaire. Second, I freed myself so I could go on with life. Third, I did not carry any hate, some anger, but that is normal. And so revenge did not have its day in the way it wanted to which would have been to destroy both of us.

“Life is funny, Samah, it gives you the tools to live, but you got to make decisions on thinking not emotions, I think that was my biggest hurdle. And what I seen you do was make a decision on thinking.”

“Gee, I guess I did. Maybe I will go to the party after all. Who knows maybe I will get a better offer and end up cleaning OUR home…if you get the drift?”

“Oh yaw, I get the message loud and clear.” I thought as we walked out of the bedroom maybe she had eyes for my brother. HMMMMMMMMM makes you think.

Well I suppose you want to know what happened at the party! I can’t tell you, I never went, but she got a job I heard, married a man, self-employed plumber who made $60,000 a year, and back then that was money; he was 15-years her senior, but who cares. He got a young-babe, and she got her dream, a good man, a house that belonged to her, and never had to clean another house or someone else. No kids, but she didn’t care, she had a lot of time visiting Her sister’s and brother’s kids; and he retired early, and they fly to Europe three times a year. You can’t get better than that my friend. You see, you just never know what walking out that door will bring.

Note: 9-21-02 12:21 PM [revised 12/8/2005]