This is my story about dating/getting engaged to a motor cycle club member AKA 1% (one percenter). The one percenter thing is an overall saying for all different motorcycle clubs (MCs) and it has something to do with them following only one percent of the law. An adventure and lesson learned for sure (maybe a few lessons).
Here we go. Over the years here and there I have gone looking for my youngest son, Nicholas' father. We frequented the same bar and actually called it "home base" for over a decade. A lot of times when he didn't have a phone I could contact him at a place we called The Lit (The Lithuanian Pub) in the Lithuanian Village. Which was really just a three way intersection with a bar on every corner. Anyway, the phone number there started with either 588 or 580. I sometimes had a few drinks before making the decision to look for him and could never remember (honestly still don't) which one is which. I called the motorcycle club house a few times over the years and the guy that answered always sounded grumpy from what I remember but their phone number starts with one of those and all the rest of the numbers are the same.
Sometime I think in 2013, I decided to see if Nick's father was still alive and I called him at the Lit, or tried. I had been living in our townhouse for 3 years and he had never come to visit Nick, he would call and offer to come over but I would tell him he couldn't bring a duffle bag and he needed to have a ride home or bus money and he wouldn't come. An answer came on the phone and in a gruff voice he announced that it was his club's clubhouse. I was not drinking at this time and felt bad in that moment as I remembered (as well as I remember anything...fuzzy memory)that this was not nearly the first time I had made this mistake. I apologized and told him I was calling the Lit looking for my baby daddy and I know I call the clubhouse accidently almost every time. And that began hours and hours of phone calls between us. Sometimes 4 hours at a time! He introduced himself with his nickname and that was what I called him for the first few weeks. He was much older than me, I think almost 20 years, he had a big gray beard and no top teeth so I invited him over...Looking back I should have seen from the beginning that this was not one of my better ideas.
After only about 2 1/2 months he wrote me a letter telling me he wanted me to be his forever. He gave me the "Property of (his nickname here)" shirt to wear on the back of his bike. As I tell this story I am asking myself the same thing you are....WHAT WAS I THINKING??????? Anyway, around that time he got a lump sum of money and planned a trip overnight to the casino. He proposed that night but said he was scared to get me a ring I wouldn't like and wanted me to pick it. On our way home we stopped at the jewelry chain store near my house. After many years single (since Derek since I said I loved anyone) I said "yes!". Oh boy. I think I was sick of being alone and no one other had officially ever asked me to marry them.
At the jewelry store he had a couple grand in cash with him. I saw the ring I loved but I wanted it tweaked just a bit. The problem is that if I made it exactly what I wanted it would cost more cash than he had. They ran both our credit to see if either of us were eligible for a credit card with them, which would give us a discount and he could put just a down payment that day. He did not qualify for a card but I did. It seemed a bit risky but that day I really thought we were going to be together until he died. So we put one grand down and the other, larger amount, on my credit.
I am not going to give the dirty details of the clubhouse parties where we would get completely hammered on Jack Daniels all day long and by the end of the night shot glasses and bottles were being thrown back and forth. He was also older and Nick was just graduating Pre-School. He actually missed the graduation due to obligations to his club. It was messy. There were a lot of times neither of us could remember the ride back to his clubhouse on the bike (Harley of course). He had moved in about 3 months after the last time I dialed the "Wrong Number". There is still a hole in the wall halfway down the stairs from his Playstation one time I was helping him pack up and go back to the clubhouse. Our lives and priorities were not the same. His daughters were in college and he had freedom. I had none. And the drinking created some insane fights between us. About a month after that he moved back to the clubhouse where he lived.
He continued to make every payment on the ring. At first he was on time, but as the ring went back and forth between us and the breakup continued to suck because of the now forced connection we had now, he started playing games with me. He would send the check but would send it late just to laugh at how frustrated I would get. At that time I was not able to control my temper very well when it came to verbal arguments with others. (Or was participating in what I call "phone fighting" which I try never to engage in now). One night we were "phone fighting". Yelling at each other on the phone because of the stupid shiny rock. Right before I hung up the phone I said "I'm calling Judge Judy" (her show was by far my favorite at the time). I may have had some wine that night. I proceeded to google the number for the show, which I found and left a message telling the short version of my story. He had the ring, the card is in my name and I want it paid in full now in case he sells it (which he had threatened to during a phone fight) or he dies or something, which could have happened anytime due to his age and his lifestyle with the club.
So here is the part where I have my debut on Judge Judy. No joking. A producer from the show called the next day. She loved the case and asked if we could get my ex to agree to come on the show, I told her I wasn't speaking to him and honestly never wanted to see him again (it was the morning after that big phone fight). So I gave her his contact info. She contacted him right away. I was filing a legit small claims case against him at the local probate court which was necessary to qualify to be on the show since the judgment would be official. It would cost $50 which I didn't have and when I told the producer that (we had the same woman as a contact throughout this entire escapade) she offered to reimburse me. I would also get free roundtrip airfare from Boston to L.A., two nights at the Sheraton in downtown L.A., $70 a day food allowance, a $350 taxable payment as paid guest on national T.V. and (since they were throwing so much money at me) I talked them into paying $400 for a babysitter for the two nights and three days that I would not be home since I could not bring Nick that far all by myself. My ex and I would try to talk and plan a vacation in California but we could not stop fighting. Ultimately the producer arranged for us to stay at different hotels. He was in Downtown Hollywood and I was in L.A. They wanted us to come two weeks after I made the call but it was December and I could not get there until their next slot which was February 5, 2014 I believe. Just before we left on our separate flights we had agreed to hang out while we were there since neither of us wanted to experience CA alone.
My flight was out of Logan Airport which is always crazy busy. I had to wake up at something stupid like 4AM to be able to get through security and get on my 7AM nonstop flight to California. What was supposed to be a 5 hour flight (in a middle seat where every time I dozed off I would catch myself resting my head on the people in the seats on either side of me). By the time I got off the plane my phone was going nuts. They had planned for us to tape our case immediately after my arrival. My ex was already at the studio. I freshened up and changed my clothes in the bathroom quickly before ran outside to catch the cab they set up for me after frantic calls from the producer. I had never been to California. The cab brought me, luggage and all, straight to the Judge Judy studio in Hollywood.
It wasn't long after that that I was standing in front of Judge Judy herself! My ex and I had agreed not to trash each other to the producer who had been desperately trying to get dirt on the other out of each of us. It was pretty quick, she explained he had the ring and if he wanted to keep it he had to pay for it in full. He said he wanted to keep it and I was awarded the amount of the balance on the credit card.
The end of this story is a bummer. We met up after checking into our hotels and decided after 24 hours awake due to time difference it would be a good idea to get a big bottle of Tennessee Whiskey and go hang out at his hotel. That night we got into the biggest fight of all and I got hurt. I did not want to involve police and have anyone stuck out there so I just went back to my hotel room where I stayed until I left.
So that's it, I guess it is partly a story about being with a patchholder (club member) and partly a story about my debut on national television.
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