Thursday, March 5, 2015

Poker at 10:51pm At Night

I'm sitting here in my night gown, winding down for bed.


Dart arrives home from work.  It's an easy bus ride home for him from Downtown Las Vegas to Boulder and Sahara where we live.  His work provides a monthly bus pass since they don't have any parking available for their employees.  (It wouldn't matter if they did, since Dart never got it together enough to get himself a car.)

He bursts into my room like he's in a hurry.  "Hey, get dressed.  We're going out.  I'll meet you out front."

"NO."


I say this loud and clear.  Sometimes Dart thinks that if he does something in a rush he can catch me off-guard and get me to go along with him.  I'm not stupid.  It's Friday night and he wants me to drive him somewhere to play poker.

He acts as though I've become insanely unreasonable and comes back.


"What, what, what, what, what?  Excuse me?  There ain't no 'no.'  There ain't no discussion here.  Get your clothes on and lets get going.  I'm serious, Annie."

"The only place I'm going is to bed."

"Annie, for fucks sake!  I got a feeling I ain't had in a long fucking time.  I will be damned if I'm going to let you ruin this for me.  You hear?  This is the sort of night that can change a man's whole life.  My God, Annie, if you ruin this for me, so help me."

I'm starting to think Dart is a gambling addict.  

I never really connected the dots before, but it's nights like this when I see the same kind of desperation as on that Intervention show.

"If you want to go out, go out," I said.  His bus pass was good for rides all month long, and the buses run late in this town.  "What do you need me for?"

"I need a fucking ride for one."

"Since when?  Take the--"

"You didn't let me finish!  Shhh!  Shhhhh!  Shut your mouth and just listen for once.  You know how damn emasculating it is for a man not even to be able to finish a fucking sentence to his own damn wife?  No.  You don't know that.  But you sure as Hell know how to make my life a living Hell.  You're an expert at that.  It's like you took a class or something.  Is that what it is, Annie?  They giving classes on..."

Wow. 

He was in such rare form tonight that I had to blog it.  


He's going off on a tangent rather than just getting to the point.  He does this when he wants something from me.  It's not a ride, because he can just take the bus.  It has to be money.  This is his dry weekend.  He gets paid twice a week and he already blew last week's pay.

Not to go off on a tangent myself, but the pay we're talking about is a pittance.  Taxi drivers make most of their living off tips.  Dart can never get through a day without blowing his tip money. 

Maybe he really is a gambling addict?  


I have to protect my money and possessions just like the people on the Intervention show.  I thought this was because he was a dishonest loser.  Maybe it's something more?

I put away my computer and pull back my covers.  "Goodnight, Dart."

"Goodnight?  I said we were fucking going out!  We are going out, Annie!"

I sit up again.  "I'm not going anywhere.  What are you going to do?  Fucking drag me?  Get the fuck out of my room!"

His eyes bulge out.  I don't yell at him often.  This is why he thinks he can go so far with his shenanigans.  He's used to pushing my buttons without any reaction.

"This is how you treat me now?"  He fakes some hurt feelings.

"GOODNIGHT, DART."  I start getting ready for bed again.


He gets kind of pathetic.  "Annie, I am begging you.  Please.  This feeling I have is something real, Annie.  I'm not a spiritual man, but I am feeling something tonight."

"So go to the damn casino!"

"I don't have any fucking money!"

I know he doesn't.  He would already be at the casino if he did.  I knew this was why he was trying to drag me out, but I had to get him to admit it.

"That's not my problem, Dart.  You have a job and no expenses.  There's no reason--"

"Do not start on that, Annie!  Not tonight!  Do not screw this thing I'm feeling up for me!"

He never lets me state the facts.  I guess my stupid husband is a gambling addict and I've been living in la la land.  I sit up and look him square in the face.

"If I go out tonight it will be to load my shit in my car and to check into a hotel on Boulder."

He sneers at me.  "Oh, don't even play that, Annie.  Don't even play--"

"I'm not going to live with a fucking gambling addict."


His eyes bulge and he looks wounded again.  For a while he's shaking his head in disbelief.  I just stare at him.  Eventually he looks up like he's pleading with our Maker to give him patience.

"You just ruined my life."  He's got tears in his eyes as he says this. 

He leaves, but I hear him come back and go to bed an hour later.  Tonight was especially bad for us.  I think I really need to ramp up my exit strategy.

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Monday, March 2, 2015

How We Ended Up Married Part 2

If this is your first time reading my blog you're going to want to start at the beginning here.

After our 'wedding' we celebrated with dinner and talked vaguely about our future plans.  Dart's father had lived in a mobile home in a low-income mobile home park.  He passed away years ago.  The mobile home was Dart's technically, but he wasn't sure what the situation was with all the back lot rent that was owed on it.  We would investigate that and see if there was some way we could reclaim it without paying a fortune. 

I went home to my weekly efficiency apartment still buzzing from the whirlwind adventure of the day.  I felt giddy.  Maybe I did love Dart.  He'd swept me off my feet.  I was looking forward to building a life together.

Boy was I dumb.

I wasn't just dumb for marrying lying ex-con after only dating him for one month.  I hadn't even thought of the real implications:  we were both still incarcerated.  My time at the half-way house wasn't up for another two weeks.  I still had to check in once a week and turn over 25% of my pay.  Dart had months to go yet.  Getting married was not allowed.  Once we were released and our probation started we were not supposed to have any contact with other felons.  Being outright married to one was a violation that could get us put back in prison.

We never had a honeymoon.  The next day I got a call on my cellphone at work.  When I saw it was my probation officer my heart sank.  My world came crashing in.  What the Hell have I done?

Dart and I had the same probation officer.  We'll call her Madge for her first initial and her badge.  I answered the phone with my hand trembling.  She got right to the point.

"Did you marry D_____  Art_____ yesterday?"

I went quiet.  My mind was racing trying to think of a way out of this.  Why was I so stupid stupid stupid!

"Well, did you or not?"

"Yes."

"Come to my office immediately after work.  Do not go home, come straight here, do you understand me?"  (Again, I paraphrase these quotes based on memory.  I remember having to race there right after work that day.)



She hung up and I called Dart.  I was panicking.  I started talking to him a mile a minute about what just happened.  He was cool as a cucumber.

"It's all right.  It's all right.  It's going to be okay."

"How did she even know?"

"I told her, Annie.  I had to.  You know I had to."

I had a cold sweat.  I couldn't process what was going on.  Why was he so calm about this?  We could be thrown back into prison!  Why hadn't he thought this out?  Why hadn't I?

Well, Dart had thought this out.  He'd been in the system his whole adult life.  He knew a few things I didn't:  1.  Someone with his record wasn't going to get violated over something trivial.  2.  If we did get violated it was for a rule violation, not breaking the law.  We'd only go back in for 30 days.

The risk didn't matter to him.  Getting me tied to him permanently was all that mattered.  Why?  Was it because:

A.  He needed a meal-ticket.

B.  He wanted to con me out of every penny I made, or

C.  He was an abusive man who needed a woman to subjugate.

The answer is D.  None of the above.

Dart married me because he loved me.  I can say all I want about his bad decisions, his askew thinking, and his constant scheming, but I know he loved me.  He still does.  He found a good thing in me and was desperate not to lose it.

Our situation with Madge was to his advantage.  He told me that we had to sell our marriage to her in order to prevent us from getting probation violations.

He said something like, "Look, we're two people fresh out of prison, trying to get our shit together, and we found strength in each other.  Let her know that we knew what we was doing.  We knew.  We had to go on and do it because otherwise she might not have let us.  And we're going to make it, you know?  We love each other.  We going to be looking out for each other.  Shit--we just doubled our chances of staying straight."



He gave me a good pep rally.  The two of us went to see her together.  I was totally gung-ho on the idea of convincing her we'd done the right thing.  I went in there and poured my heart out.  I'd found a lost soul in Dart and I knew I could support him.  He professed to her that he loved me with all his heart.  We went back and forth, on and on, battling her distrust and disgust.  We stuck together.  Our passion didn't falter for a second.

In the end she said she would have to talk to her superior to decide what action to take regarding our violation of the rules.

"When are we going to know if our probation is revoked?" I asked.

"You'll know if you're revoked if the marshals come to your office to drag you back to prison."

 Ugh.  It's moments like that when I feel like my stomach has literally dropped out of me and hit the floor.  

After that she told us to leave, and we went to while holding hands.  As we were going she said:

"I don't know what my supervisor will say about this, but if you two fuck this thing up in the meantime," she wagged her finger between the two of us, "you can just assume you're revoked."

And that's how Dart managed to keep me married to him until the end of our probation periods.

Obviously we never got revoked over the marriage.  She didn't contact either of us to let us know what the final decision was, but we knew we were in the clear when she gave the approval for us to move in to the mobile home together.

This 'thing between the two of us' failed pretty quickly.  Dart felt it was safe to show his true colors.  Our first fight was over me sending him texts from work, but then not taking his calls.  I couldn't be on my cell at work.  I was just sneaking him messages.  He got pissed off that I wouldn't also sneak away to talk to him.  Dart doesn't understand technology.  He refuses to text, email, or do anything online.  He also hates it when I'm in control.  He feels he has to reassert himself.



He left me a scathing voice mail setting the rules for how we would communicate from now on.  If I couldn't talk to him 'like a human being' then don't send him 'little messages.'  He said something like he knows I think I'm all important at my little office job, but I'm not so important that I can't get up and go outside for five minutes to take a fucking phone call.  He ended by making it clear that there wasn't going to be discussion over this.  No more fucking texts.  I had to call him.

He was nasty and I was pissed.  I was also sick over it.  I knew right then I didn't want to be with this man.  If we weren't married I would have just broken up with him and walked away.  What the fuck had I done with my life?

I didn't talk to him for two days.  I went into the spare bedroom and closed him out.  He was too proud to come crawling to me.  The tension in the air was nauseating.  It made my shoulders ache.

On the third day I'd had enough.  I took some deep breaths and sat with him at the kitchen table.  I told him we weren't going to work out.

He acted shocked and wounded.  He said of course we would work out.  We just had a tiny little spat.  It was nothing.

I said he'd called me a bitch and acted like a dictator.  Not acceptable.  Not going to work out.

Dart did something he often does, he rewrote history.  "No, no, no.  First off, I never called you a bitch.  Now listen, listen..."  He stalled by repeating himself.  "All I was doing was trying to get us to communicate better.  You can't have conversation where one person says something and you can't say nothing back.  You get shut out, like a door slamming right on your face.  It's heart-breaking, you know?  Communication is important, and I was just trying to make sure we worked things out.  That's all I said."

I was not impressed.  I took out my phone and played the message for him.  I could tell from how he nervously wet his lips that he had not considered my ability to do that.  He really didn't understand how cell phones worked.  Technology just let me do the impossible:  win an argument with Dart.

"Okay," I said.  "We done with the bullshit?  This isn't working out.  Getting married was a stupid thing to do.  I'll pay for the divorce."

"Divorce!"  He was shocked again.  "You want us to both get violated?"



"I'm not going to stay your wife."

"Then just be my fucking roommate!  Jesus, Annie.  You know what that woman said.  You may not give a shit about me going back to prison, but you'll end up revoked too!"

I was frustrated but he had a point.  We went into a long discussion about the feasibility of just staying roommates.  It made sense financially (so I thought at the time) and would keep us from having to deal with the wrath of Madge.

I moved into the spare bedroom.  We were going to be friendly roommates.  Nothing else.  (Yeah right.)  As soon as his probation ended we would be getting a divorce.

With that plan in mind we moved forward.

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Sunday, March 1, 2015

How We Ended Up Married

If this is your first time reading my blog you're going to want to start at the beginning here.

As I said before, I did time in Federal prison for taking part in tax fraud for my company.  My sentence was a year and a day, which is a little over 10 months with good time.  I spent seven of those months in a very nice women's prison camp.  I'm not being sarcastic here either.  It was soft time, as soft as you can get.  'Club Fed.'  I'll go into this later.  The main purpose of this post is to explain how I ended up married to Dart.



You don't get released from prison straight into society, at least not in the Federal system (I can't speak about the County Jail system since I don't know about it.)  You go from prison to a half-way house.

A half-way house is a privately run business that feeds, houses, and helps reintegrate newly released prison inmates.  You live there while trying to find a job and save up for your first month's rent to get an apartment and so forth.  The half-way house where I was sent was pretty awful.  I'm not going to say it was horrible, because I know there's a lot worse out there.

You have to understand, though, I came from this really nice prison where we all took care of each other.  Where the food was good and we lived two to a cubicle.  We had beautiful mountains all around us, fresh air, a track to walk on, a fitness center.  I never felt like I was in danger, and that's not because we were guarded all the time.  The women's prison camp had one guard for 200 inmates and they only checked on us during count.  They never hassled us.  The atmosphere was very friendly.  We were all non-violent offenders.



Then I get to this half-way house where all the newly released Federal prison inmates are grouped together.  From me, who helped in a tax fraud, to a guy who brought enough chemical weapons into Las Vegas to kill everyone in three city blocks.  I was side by side with the rapists, murderers, drug addicts, mobsters, pimps, and so on.

When I got there I was pretty determined to stay the Hell away from the scary men that filled the place.  I tried to hide in the girl's dorm and just play around on the computer until I started my job.  I still had my laptop from before I was incarcerated and my old neighbor let me use her USB stick to connect to the Internet.



But, of course, the other women in the dorm didn't have laptops or any way to connect online.  I was harassed by one of the women constantly to let her use my computer.  When I kept refusing her she would sit on my bunk next to me and watch what I was doing.  I got fed up, so I brought my computer out to the common area and used it there.

The men had the courtesy not to badger me.  I was left alone, and after a while I got more comfortable around them. 

I was able to go back to my old place of employment two weeks after I was released.  As I said, I could no longer work in accounting so my new position wasn't as lucrative as what I'd had before.  Compared to all the men in the half-way house, however, I was a millionaire.  None of them could seem to get hired anywhere.  It was 2011 and it was hard for someone with a clean record to find work, much less an ex-convict.

I took pity on some of the guys and shared my instant coffee or gave up my half-way house meals when I ordered take-out instead.  I found myself getting along better with the men than the women.  The women's dorm was tyrannized by the large woman who was always trying to get my computer from me.  She bullied another woman in there who was 7 months pregnant.  I couldn't stand to be around her.

The men, however, didn't seem to want to hit on me, and liked having me around.  I started joking around with a bunch of different guys, including Dart.  Dart had a fast wit and could always make people laugh.  I didn't feel any particular affinity to him, no more than some of the other guys.  I was just passing time in an enjoyable way.  There was no romantic vibe between us. 

On weekends I was stuck in the half-way house both days.  One Saturday a male ex-convict came into the women's dorm--terrifying all of us.  Before the women could start shrieking at him, he said, "Annie, Annie, Martinez likes you!"  I was too mortified that a man had come into our area to even register what he was saying.  Three staff members burst in and threw the guy out.  We were all shook up.  This was where we had to sleep, shower, and change our clothes.


Later that day I went out to get lunch.  I was in line behind a Mexican man and Dart was in line behind me.  The man in front of me, a young guy but very stocky, turned around and gave me a leering smile.  I was a little freaked out by this.  Then I realized he had his hand in his shorts and was fondling himself.  

I lunged back away from him and crashed into Dart.  I was beyond horrified.  The revulsion just gripped my whole body.  I was scrambling to get away from the pervert while making sounds of disgust.  Dart was confused a second, but then saw what made me freak out.  He pounded the guy in the chest with the butt of his palm.

"The fuck you doin', man?  Get your fucking hand off your dick!"

The pervert started laughing and kept holding himself.  "What?  I like her."

Dart grabbed him by the neck of his tee shirt and yelled in his face.  "You think this is a joke, fucker?  You fucking pig!"  (Something like that.  I don't remember exactly what he said).

I was standing beside one of the bench tables where we would eat watching all of this.  My face was so hot it felt like I'd been slapped.  I was grateful for Dart.  The pervert had made me feel like a victim.  Dart was vindicating me.  He was letting me know that perverted freaks didn't have to make me feel powerless.  I was protected here.

Martinez, the pervert, grabbed his lunch and left, while no longer smiling.  Dart and another guy stuck around to console me.

This is when I first let my guard down with Dart.  He was noble to me now.  I also noticed how he'd take the trash out even when it wasn't his day for chores.  If he saw the trash full he'd do something about it instead of piling on more trash.  He told me that his mother taught him never to ignore a problem.  He'd gained my respect.

Every day we ate together.  I learned that he was selling his plasma and wiping off cars as they came out of a car wash to try and get tips.  He was saving up to pay for the physical exam and permit required to become a taxi driver.  (So he claimed.)  I liked his initiative.  Taxi driving was one gig an ex-con could get into.  It just had a high cost of entry.  Dart had goals and was taking action. 

So I gave him $120.  This was what he told me he needed to pay for the physical exam.  Well, it was a lie.  I know now that he used $100 to get into a poker tournament.  I don't have any proof of this, I've just learned how he works over the years of being with him.  When I think back it's obvious to me.



But at the time he had fooled me and there was enough chaos for him to get away with it.  I don't know exactly what really happened, but I know he wasn't truthful with me.  He never is when it comes to money.

When I came back to the half-way house that day after work one of the staff sat down with me and asked if I knew where Dart was.  He'd never returned from his 5 hour pass.  My stomach sank.  Dart was breaking a rule that was going to get him sent back to prison.  I told them to please wait and give him another chance.  They said they would have to see.

He didn't come back at all that night.  I called into work the next day because I was too worried about the idiot to go in.  That morning I saw him coming through the guard station.  He was with them for a long time.  When he came out he looked at me with a sad face.  I felt so glad that he'd come back that I hugged him.

He held on to me and squeezed.  I was surprised at how tight he held.  I was just hugging him as a concerned friend.  He was hugging back like someone in love with me.  This didn't sit too well, but I felt that it wasn't important at that moment.  I'll admit, I didn't have much romantic experience.  I should have known that a guy is going to see a hug as a sign you're attracted to them.  I was pretty clueless.

We sat down and he spun one of the yarns he spins so well.  I don't know what really happened, but here is his story:  The father of his grandson tried to take his baby from Dart's daughter and he had to take a bus to Flagstaff to get him back.  This is what he spent the money I gave him on.


Yes, he has a daughter who has a baby son.  That's the only thing true about what he said.  I know he blew my money on some other bullshit--more than likely a poker tournament.  Why he didn't come back to the half-way house that night was still a mystery.  Something must have happened, because he wasn't going to risk going back to prison just to make a convincing lie for me.

Anyway, I believed him.  I gave him more money.  Yes I'm an idiot.  By this time he'd made it clear to me his interest in me was romantic.  I didn't push him away.  I still thought he was noble.  We kissed and it felt okay to me.  I decided to give him a chance.  I never felt melty lovey-dovey feelings toward him, but the intimacy didn't put me off.  I just went with it.

This second $120 vanished like the first without him every getting the physical.  By that time he'd moved out of the half-way house and in with the aunt of his daughter.  (Though thinking back I bet they were shacking up as lovers.)  He said she demanded he buy groceries or he'd be kicked out.  That's where the second $120 went.  (Yeah, right.)

He was kicked out by her anyway the day after he invited me over while she was at work.  It was the first time we'd had sex.  The next day he asked me to pick him up and wouldn't tell me why over the phone.  (I had paid off my car before I went into prison and still had it.)  When I picked him up he loaded my car with all his belongings and asked me to take him back to the half-way house.

He claimed that the aunt, who'd been babysitting his grandson, was trying to get custody of the grandson.  His daughter and the aunt had it out in front of him and tried to drag him into it.  So he left.

No.  That's not what happened.  I don't have any evidence, but I'm pretty sure one of her neighbors saw him bring me there and I was the reason she kicked him out.  He was cheating on her...and on me.

But at the time I believed him.

OKAY.  WAIT.


I know you're probably so frustrated with me at this point that you want to stop reading.  Believe me--I know how you feel.  I'm cringing so much as I type this.  Was I ever really that stupid?  I was well into my 30s by this time, you realize.  I wasn't some dumb kid.  I should have known better.

Well, I did wise up about the money.  It was obvious that he was going to keep conning me for cash without ever getting his shit done.  So the next time I said I'd go with him to the taxi company and pay directly to the person who does the physical.  While I was there I paid the fee for his permit too, and some other bullshit the taxi company charges.  It was $480.  This time though, he actually started a job as a damn taxi driver.

And then...then I did something really stupid that should destroy all my credibility with you.

Dart picked me up after work with a huge bouquet of flowers.  He was dressed in a tuxedo.  He said he wanted me to celebrate something with him.  I was surprised and happy and went along with it.  He wouldn't tell me what he was celebrating.

He drove me to A Little White Wedding Chapel.  My stomach started to tighten up.  He pulled up to the drive-thru, opened a ring box with a diamond ring in it, and said, "Annie, you're the best thing to ever happen to me.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  Will you, right here and right now, marry me?"

He was celebrating Septemer 9th, 2011.  9-10-11.  One of the days everyone wants to get married.  He had actually won a poker tournament and used the money to buy the ring and book the chapel.  (I found this all out later.)

I said yes.



We had been dating for one month.

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