Confession, and a Dilemma – Part II

So, my wife has a pending immigrant visa case currently with the National Visa Center.  She could be back by the end of the year if everything goes smoothly. It probably won’t, but I figure that there is a 90+% chance of it eventually being approved.  Great, right?

Maybe not.

I’ve mentioned talking to this new girl at work.  Well, she’s not new, but the talking part is. Things are happening that I never saw coming.

I’ve had a crush on the girl for months, but that happened once before with another girl.  They are fun, but I don’t act on these crushes.  I am married, even if I haven’t seen my wife in nine hundred thirty-nine days. I’m a chickenshit of epic proportions. It’s almost never a good idea to date someone where you work.  And both she and the object of my last work crush are/were too young for me.

It turns out that this girl, who I will call B, had been trying to catch my eye for about as long as I’d been crushing on her, maybe even a little longer.  I’m not sure why, since she turned down my dinner invitation the other week due to having a boyfriend.

She’s been with this boyfriend for roughly eight years, and has a sprog by him.  Some time between the creation of said sprog and the present time, dude developed quite the taste for recreational pharmaceuticals. They haven’t shared a room or bed in quite some time. She has another kid, age 2, by “an old boyfriend with whom she had a moment of weakness” who hasn’t seen the baby since it was four months old. Yeah, she picks winners.  She claims to stay with him because she works third shift, and worthless though he is, he will refrain from getting too fucked up so he can keep an eye on the kids while she’s at work.  She has nobody else who can or will help.

So, while neither of us are technically available, neither of our current situations are even remotely fulfilling.  And we’ve both been interested in each other for several months.

Well, we finally found each other.

I won’t bore you with the details of the hours-long conversations that we’ve had pretty much every day since establishing our mutual interest. There are many reasons nothing should develop between us. My wife. Her boyfriend. The age difference (14 years). Her kids and my lack of a desire to deal with that. She’s quite the people person, and I’m a reclusive hermit.  She can’t stand the heat of a jalapeño pepper, while I regularly cook with habanero and ghost pepper. Hell, she’s a fucking deomcrat.  I’m not sure she understands the word, though.  She has no issues whatsoever with guns, and I have yet to find any real topics about which her claimed democrat-ness shows through.

She actually likes me.  She blushes furiously if I hold eye contact for more than a second or two. You cannot imagine how flattering that is.  Pretty girls just don’t notice me, much less have physical responses to my gaze.  Hell, even the ugly ones don’t usually acknowledge my existence. I’m usually the one embarrassingly trying to impress the girl. But she liked me without me approaching her and making a move. And I liked her before she finally dropped enough hints for me to figure out that she was interested. It’s only been a short time, but we just click so far. Conversation with her is easy. I admit that the lust is thick enough you could cut it with a chainsaw, but beyond wanting to do bad things to her, I like her.

I just don’t know what to do.  I want to go forward and see if there is anything there that may stand the test of time.  But I don’t want to break her heart.  She’s too sweet of a girl, and she’s already had a tough life.  And I have given my word to my wife that I will give her a second chance if she can get back into the country, despite the fact that I haven’t fully forgiven her for leaving. She’s not back yet, but there’s not that much time between now and when she may be.  There’s enough time to fall in love, but not long enough time for any real long term viability test.

If I move forward, we’ll probably fall in love, and either I must risk that it will last long term and blow off my wife after almost two years of immigration struggles, or I keep my word to my wife and break B’s heart in the process.  Perhaps along with my own.

If I don’t let it move forward, I will always wonder what could have been.  I could wait out the immigration process and hope that B will wait.  She knows the whole story, and has been very understanding so far.  It should only be a couple more months.  But who the fuck knows what’s really going to happen? There could be more delays before the interview. The 04 August notice did say that they expect it to take “at least 60 days to review documents”. Everything else has been running at almost double the estimated time. Then there is the time to transfer everything to the embassy.  And their processing time.  And the time to wait for the interview. And if they deny her after the interview, which is a real possibility, there is an appeal process.  That will take another indeterminate amount of time to get through. With no certain outcome.

And there is absolutely no guarantee that Wifey and I will be happy together, regardless of when she gets here. We know each other, but not as a couple. We’ve never spent the night in the same room. Yes, there were a few intimate encounters, five to be exact, but every time it felt like we were sneaking around. I never saw her completely without clothes. Draw the curtains, do the deed, get dressed, and get on with the day. At no point have I ever felt for her anything even remotely like what I feel for B.  Not that that’s much of indicator, but it is something. Right?

Decisions, decisions.  Whichever way I go, it will be wrong.

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Confession, and a Dilemma – Part I

I know that I am about to lose the respect of at least a few of you by admitting this, but so be it.

For those of you who are new, or who have forgotten, a summary: Several years ago, I divorced my ex-wife but stayed on friendly enough terms to continue to share a roof with her. Mostly because it was a nice house, owned free and clear by a corporation that she and I own along with a couple other investors, which essentially let us live there almost rent free. A couple years after the divorce, I married her sister.

Both were Ukrainian nationals (although the ex became a US citizen in 2007) so immigration was heavily involved. The first time, it was reasonably easy. The second time was anything but. Post 9/11, with it being my second request for a fiancée visa, and the familial relationship between the first and second beneficiaries – you can understand their skepticism. Eventually, it was approved, she got here and we got married.

At the time, I was working at BigBoxRetailer, after having been fired from my last real job on some bullshit that isn’t worth explaining.  After the termination, and the subsequent two years of unemployment, I had had enough of the rat race. I had made lifestyle adjustments, so I didn’t need $25+/hour.  I was living with ex-Roomie free in exchange for keeping the company’s books. I could support myself and my new family well enough on thirty hours a week at minimum wage. Living arrangements had been discussed prior to the marriage, and everyone seemed to be on the same page.

About a month after we got married, she started having panic attacks. A month later, she decided that she needed to go home. I had already sent in the green card paperwork, along with the requisite fees, which totaled just under three thousand dollars. So in addition to being hurt, I was pissed!

I explained that she was walking away with no second chance option. By leaving before the process could be completed, the money was lost and the petitions were withdrawn.  I explained that I would not shell out that kind of cash again.  She acknowledged, and left anyway.

I kept in touch with Wifey after she went back home almost three years ago. At first, the communication was sporadic, particularly while ex-LadyFriend and I were trying to make a go of things.  At first, it was nothing more than brief, polite conversation. After ex-LF and I parted ways, contact became a little more regular. Wifey congratulated me on my job at FaucetCompany, and was particularly interested when she found out that I had bought a house and moved out. I was still pretty upset about her decision to leave, so I didn’t notice at the time.

I decided to stop being polite. I asked the hard questions, and insisted on real answers. What did I have to lose? She had already left, and I figured she’d just quit writing back when I started pushing. She didn’t. She gave answers.

I’m sure that she didn’t tell me everything that contributed to her decision, but she hit the high points. The biggest factor was ex-Roomie. While ex-Roomie can be a sweet, kind, lovable kitten when she wants to, she spends a significant percentage of the time being a demanding, disagreeable bitch.

Wifey couldn’t handle living with her sister. The ex’s bitch fits an the fact that she and I had been a couple for roughly a decade before Wifey entered the picture was bad enough. But the whole situation reminded her of her first marriage (forced to live with her impossible to please mother-in-law for the entire fifteen years) she just couldn’t deal with it.

Of course, she failed to share these details before she left. She claims that she didn’t want to present me with as an ultimatum. That left me wondering how important our marriage was to her. Looking back, I see a lot of myself in her decision. I have to fight the instinct to run when shit gets tough.

And it was tough. New country. New language (even with the translation assistance provided by ex-Roomie). New relationship (we’d never lived together, and hadn’t had much of a traditional courtship). Difficult roommate. Knowledge that her new husband and said roommate used to be a couple. Worry about her eldest son who was finishing up college in a country where even menial jobs are rare, even with a degree – much moreso than here. Financial concerns for the family that she left behind, that I couldn’t afford to help support, and she wouldn’t be eligible to work until immigration approved her petition. Hell, I’d have probably ran away a lot sooner than she did.

She admitted regret over her decision, but I didn’t see how that changed anything. I wouldn’t pay for round two of the immigration nightmare, even if she wanted to try again. There were hard questions during the fiancée visa process. Leaving the country after less than three months of marriage, before completing the permanent resident paperwork, would almost certainly prompt a very unpleasant interrogation.

A little over a year ago, Ex asked me out of the blue if I would be willing to give Wifey another chance. I was alone.  The search for ex-LF had been so arduous, only to have the relationship end with a whimper after less than three months.  I had finally come to terms with how my life was going to go.

After thinking about it for a while, I answered in the affirmative. I was still upset about her decision to leave.  I still cared about her, though.  I figured, what could it hurt? There were only three possible outcomes.  Either she is denied the visa, she comes back and can’t handle it again, or she comes back and we manage to tolerate each other and grow old together.

Well, Ex-Roomie financed the endeavor.  I did the paperwork, and paid for a couple copies of official documents.  The case is now at the National Visa Center, where they are reviewing the financial and civil documents. Assuming everything passes muster, it will then go to the embassy in Kiev, where she will be interviewed.  I expect this interview to take place by the end of the year. Almost there!

But life just threw me a huge curve ball.  Explanation in Part II.

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Kids These Days

I’ve spent a lot of time the last couple of days talking to the pretty, young thing that I wrote about a few posts back. I don’t know if it will go anywhere, and aside from not having gotten laid in *damn has it really been that long?*, I’m not sure I want it to. But it has made for some interesting conversations.

Yesterday morning, she complained of what felt like the initial stages of a cold. Last night, she confirmed the diagnosis. She said that she was going to stop at a convenience store and pick up some cold medicine on her way to work. Since I come in an hour later than her, I offered to pick some up for her. C-stores aren’t exactly known for having low prices, and she is supporting two kids and a perpetually unemployed boyfriend on a temp job paycheck.

She declined my offer. She instead picked up a few single dose packages. For $1.50 each. I suggested that maybe I could offer some suggestions to help her get the most out of her income.

Why do I stick my nose into other people’s business? I mean well, but it is never taken the way I intend.

omg it was $1.47 each I don’t think that’s gonna break me

Followed up with:

I should still be able to pay the bills this month but it probably did take my life savings away! lmfao

One day I’ll learn. Scratch that. No I won’t.

Karma’s a bitch, though. Not an hour later, she found out that she’s only working a total of three days this week, instead of the usual six or seven. I chose not to point out the obvious.


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Sore Neck

On Monday morning, I picked up my new eyeglasses. I now have a sore neck. The correlation? They are my first pair of bifocals, and finding the correct angle to get clear vision requires a lot of head movement.

Yes, getting old sucks.

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Damn Verizon Wireless

I have Verizon’s prepaid $45 per month plan that comes with 500MB of data. A provision of the plan is that if you sign up for automatic payment, they will double the data allowance to 1GB.

After an internal debate about privacy versus the advantages of automatic payment, I signed up. A month or so later, I needed to change the credit card number. The only way I could get the system to allow me to do so was to cancel AutoPay and re-enroll with the new card number.

Unbeknownst to me, that forever disqualified me for the additional data allowance part of my plan, although the identical plan is still available, including the AutoPay incentive. The only way to get it back is to cancel my service, which will mean losing my current number, and sign up as a new customer with a new number.

At least, that’s what the asshole I talked to on Friday night said.

Normally, I would take my business elsewhere, but I need service that uses Verizon’s towers, otherwise I won’t have coverage at work. StraightTalk has agreements in place to use Verizon’s towers with some of their devices. Unfortunately, my phone is not one that ST supports.

Ex-Roomie was on the road to Florida Saturday, so I decided to wait until Saturday night to cancel and reactivate. I didn’t want her to have a problem along the way and try to call me, just to get a recording telling her that the number is out of service.

Saturday night after ExR let me know that she had arrived safely, I called Verizon. I was all set to do what asshole told me was required. But it was not to be.

I actually got a kind and competent representative, to whom I explained my situation. She informed me that they could easily opt me back into the promotion with one click. By a supervisor. Which she made happen. She then added the additional 500MB for this month to ensure that I had enough to get me through until my monthly renewal and the reactivated promotion kicked in.

Friday night’s asshole either didn’t know, or was too fucking lazy to get a supervisor to fix it for me.

For now, VZW and I are back on speaking terms.

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Grumpy’s (Still) Got Game

Overheard at work.

Cute-ish 29-year old material handler: Grumpy, you’re one of the nicest guys working here.
Grumpy: (certain that she is joking) You don’t know me very well, do you?
Cute-ish 29-year old material handler: (said with a straight face that turned red seconds after the words escaped her mouth) Maybe we need to change that.

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Pink Panties, The End

All of the following is alleged. I have no direct knowledge of the facts, just what I have been told.

Last Thursday, someone claimed to smell alcohol on PP’s breath, and reported him. They had him blow for alcohol, and made him piss in a cup. Then, they told him that he was suspended pending the results of the piss test, which could take up to ten days.

He had been talking about conspiracy theories and how they have been out to get him, and trying to get rid of him almost since he was hired. This latest event only served to increase his oral diarrhea ten fold. Harassment, discrimination, hostile work environment, lawyer and lawsuit joined the party.

He called me every day after that, pumping me for information. Has anybody said anything about me? Can you bring my name up in conversation and see what they will say?

Of course, I always claimed that nobody mentioned him, and I never had any conversations in which I could bring up his name. Occasionally, I would feed him an obvious piece of information, but never enough for me to get involved should he decide to actually follow up with the lawyer angle.

Then, on Tuesday night, before the results ever came back, he called in and left his resignation on HR’s voicemail.

I don’t know if he knew that there was going to be something on the drug screen that he couldn’t explain away, or if he is truly so fragile emotionally that he couldn’t handle what he saw as harassment. Regardless, he made it easy for them.

He claims that he already has a deal with a lawyer, who expects FaucetCompany to settle for a year’s wages. He thinks that he will pocket about $13K after the lawyer takes his cut.

Dude seems to be friend deficient, so I imagine he’ll keep calling me for a while. But I don’t expect it to last long. I wish the boy the best, but I will be happy to be separated from his drama.

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