Milicent Penelope Owens broke up with me. She said that I wasn’t attentive to her needs, and according to her Gramma Owens “not a proper suitor.”
I’m still trying to wrap my head around that statement. I’m in shock. Two years we were together. A lot of laughs, what I thought was romance, and a real heart to heart match. I’m trying not to completely lose it. I can’t even watch “our” shows or listen to “our” music, it all reminds me of her. So I started seeing a psychiatrist, one Dr. William Deutch. Hoping he could better explain what “wasn’t attentive to her needs, and not a proper suitor” means. For now, he wants me to focus on me, on Preston, and to really be honest about the feelings that are surfacing.
He said, “Preston, let’s be attentive to Preston first. Let’s explore what Preston’s,” he stops and raises his hands and makes those hook-like quotation marks, which I hate, “needs are.” He believes there may a be a connection between old abandonment and grief issues. Don’t get me wrong, I mean that is good and great, but I have reason to believe that Milicent’s is having sexual congress with Timothy Allen Pawsett. The guy is a complete sociopath. Pawsett frequently stands against the wall near the entrance of Coffee Talky Café on his cell phone watching everyone walk in and out. He leans back with his right foot against the wall.
He sports Vaurnet shades which he occasionally tilts down when an attractive woman or girl of any age walks by. He wears beige Levi Dockers, a pink Izod La Coste shirt and a baby blue sweater tied around his neck and always wears the same beige Sperry Top-Siders boating shoes (he’s never been boating.). His whole eighties throwback fashion is just, like morbid. He looks like the poor man’s version of James Spader in “Pretty in Pink”. He stands there with his jaw clenched talking through his bleached veneers while looking everyone up and down. I don’t think he’s on the phone with anyone.
His upper lip is always slightly curled like he’s being forced to smell cat feces.
Five years ago, when I was a freshman, (Pawsett was a junior) while changing into my gym clothes he hit me with a K-Swiss sneaker so hard it left an imprint on my back. I tried to fight him, but Brandon Warren jumped in and they both really busted me up. Brandon was expelled, he was an evil asshole too, one time he put Ben Gay in Stanley Harper’s jock strap and hung him from an equipment hook. So anyways week later I went to Goodwill and bought 10 pairs of old sneakers, really ugly ones. Reebok, British Knights, LA Gear et al.
The ugliest colors too, pinks, greens, yellows, and browns. Then I went to Bob’s True Value hardware and bought a couple of dozen tubes of Crazy Glue. While everyone was in the third period I snuck out to the parking lot with a hefty bag full of shoes, and I crazy glued them all over the windshield, the t-tops and the back window of Pawsett’s classic Gold ’88 Camaro, which he lovingly referred to as Goldy, he even had 1GOLDY1 on the license plate. I also crazy glued the door locks and the window seals, which later on that same evening proved extremely challenging for the AAA locksmith to open.
When he came out to his car there was a crowd of people standing around it gawking, he screamed and yelled through clenched teeth and sneering lip desperate to keep his composure. “OH MY GOD! YOU FUCKERS! WHO DID THIS TO GOLDY? YOU SCUMBAGS!”
He desperately tried to pull the sneakers off, some tore off, but the soles stayed intact and stuck on the glass. I watched, then I walked by, and he ran up to me flailing his arms like he was going to punch me and I kicked me in the balls so hard it lifted him about half a foot in the air. He screamed a feminine scream that took all the spectators aback, then the crowd oooh’d and ahhh’d and laughed obnoxiously. It took gallons of acetone to get the sneaker soles off the glass. The acetone also damaged and bubbled Goldy’s paint job, which was thousands of dollars to refinish. I was never charged with the crime because no one saw me in the act.