Cinfulcinnamon's Blog

~~~Death and Taxes~~~

Posted on: April 14, 2010

     Just so I’m true to the subject line…..I will say Yuck tomorrow is Tax Day. We’ve already done ours, I got a pile back and it’s all been spent…..just the way it should be…LOL Hope everyone gets a little sumptin back this year. Will probably be the last time for a long time with the way the country is heading.  And that’s too bad.

     Death has really been on my mind a lot the last few days though.  With the death of a great guy from one of the sites that I’m on,  who was also a biker, my mind has turned to many thoughts of death, and near death.  Last year at this same time, some very dear friends were also in a motorcycle accident.  They weren’t killed, but they were both very seriously injured.  Their accident made me decide to sell my motorcycle and get a trike for a time.  I sold it just a couple of months after getting it though.  Not out of fear of riding, but because I made a tidy profit on it…LOL  Now I am my husbands backrest, and that suits me just fine.  If I want to ride, I can ride our Road King if the notion hits me.   I thought I’d take a trip back in the vault for one of my stories.  This one is not a very pleasant one, but it was many years ago.  I have gotten over it, but it certainly changed the way I thought about my safety and invincibility. 

     Back we go to 1984.  I was stationed in Louisiana at the time while still in the Air Force.  I was young, single, had a career in the service that I enjoyed and lived off base with 2 great roommates.  We lived in a great big two-story two-family pink house.  Yep, pink.  We had lots of parties and loads of fun.  I decided that I wanted a part-time job for some extra money to buy clothes.  There was a small gas station/convenience store up the street from the house.  I would stop there in the mornings for coffee on my way to the base.  I got to be good friends with the older lady that was the manager there and casually mentioned one day that I wouldn’t mind having a part-time job.  She immediately offered me a couple of days a week in the evenings.  For a while, that was great.  But she soon added another day and then another.  Before too long, I was not only working full-time for the Air Force, but I worked 4 days a week for Irene.  I tried very hard not to have to work on the weekends because that was my time to party.   One Friday however, another guy that was supposed to work the evening shift called in and Irene asked me to cover it for him.  She assured me that I’d be all done by 10:30.  That wasn’t too late, so I said ok.  My roommate Billy agreed to come and pick me up at closing time and then we’d go out.

     The evening passed uneventfully and I closed up the station and was waiting for Billy.  I have always been a security nut, so of course the door was locked while I stood there waiting for him.  As I waited, I happened to see that I’d forgotten to wheel in an oil display cart that was out by one of the gas pumps.  I looked all around to make sure that everything was cool and unlocked the door, ran out, got the display cart and wheeled it inside.  As I turned the lock on the front door two guys pushed their way in.  Waving a gun and screaming at me to give them the money from the safe.  This was back in the day when there was a floor safe.  Hell yeah I knew the combination.  By this time I was an assistant manager at that place.  I had NO problem opening that safe and giving them ALL the money in it.  And I made it a point not to look at them.  I did everything I’d learned and heard about in order for them to feel secure in the fact that I was being co-operative.  At this point, let me say that I refer to these two dirtbags as the mean one (the one with the gun) and the nice one (didn’t have a gun and actually tried using logic).  They were both disgusting pieces of shit, but for the purpose of this blog that is what they will be called.  So, I put all the money in a bag, handed it across the counter, and then stood there looking at the floor hoping like hell they would leave.  My heart was beating so fast I thought it would jump out of my chest.  The nice one said, “Let’s leave man, we got the money”.  The mean one said, ” No, let’s fuck her.”  That’s when I felt my heart drop and the tears started.  Nice one, “No man, let’s get out of here”.  Mean one, “No, let’s fuck her”.  That went on for a couple of minutes.  They had both been drinking. I could tell it by the smell.  The mean one went back to the cooler and got some beer.  They could have the store at that point, I just wanted them to leave.  “Well,” said the mean one. “If we aren’t gonna fuck her, let’s do something else”.  He ordered me to take off my clothes.  I was crying and begging them both not to make me do that, but he wouldn’t take my wimpy pleas for an answer.  I slowly took off my clothes, while they watched.  The nice one was trying to convince the mean one that they should leave before the cops got there, but the mean one had already walked down the aisle and picked up a couple of bottles of oil off the shelf.  I have no idea to this day why he thought it was funny, but he opened both those bottles and poured them on me.  So, now I’m crying, naked, and covered in motor oil while this asshole laughed hysterically.  After a while, he had his fill of humiliating me and told the nice one that it was time to leave.  But first, I was to go to the back room.  I almost couldn’t hear him.  All I could hear in my ears was the rush of my own blood as my heart was pounding.  I thought for sure that I was going to lose it.  How I remained somewhat calm, and only cried and whimpered a little I don’t know.  When we got to the office, the mean one said to get on my knees and face the wall.  Oh my God….I knew what that meant.  I’d seen enough t.v. shows on crime.  He was going to leave no witnesses.  The nice one was out front pleading with him to come on and get out of there.  As I knelt down on very wobbly legs I started to pray.  I felt the gun at the back of my head and that was when I did lose it.  I was crying so hard, and I lost control of my bladder and pissed myself.  And let me tell you this.  ALL that stuff they tell you about your life flashing before your eyes?  It is ALL TRUE.  I saw my Mom and Dad.  And my Grandma.  Even my dog that they were watching for me.  Then the nice one screamed/whispered that the cops were coming.  He could  hear the sirens.  All I remember then was feeling him push the back of my head with that gun muzzle.  I fainted dead away.  Obviously, they left and didn’t kill me.  Or I wouldn’t be here torturing you right now….LOL   When I came to, a lady cop was wrapping a coat around me and helping me up.  What had happened was this:  Billy came to pick me up.  But when he didn’t see any lights on in the station, he knew something was wrong.  Instead of being a hero, he drove on by and went to a phone booth (yeah, they still had them back then) and called the cops.  He probably saved himself as well as me.

     When it was all said and done, the dirtbags got away.  I quit the gas station naturally.  But while I was up there one day (during the daylight of course) picking up my last check some cajuns came in.  These guys had been really sweet guys that always came in on my shift.  We would talk….although I had trouble understanding some of their accent…..but we always had a good time.  Irene had told them what happened, and gave them a description of the dirtbags.  Even though I hadn’t looked at them, I was still able to give the cops and Irene a good description.  The cops couldn’t find them.  But the cajuns knew who they were right away.  While we stood there talking about the experience they told me this:  No one would EVER have to worry about those two again.  And the one little stocky guy grabbed both of my arms and looked me right in the eye and said, “The gators are very well fed right now”.  Wow.  I was speechless.  I looked at the other guy and he just nodded.  Louisiana justice at it’s best.  I think that helped me get over the whole thing the best.  Knowing that they’d never do that to me or anyone else again helped a lot.  I wish I could tell you that I made it through that experience without any mistakes, but I can’t.  I knew that Billy was in love with me way before that incident happened.  And when he saved my life that night I was so grateful.  I convinced myself that I loved him.  And we got married.  That was a huge mistake.  But that’s another story.  The moral of course would be to never marry out of gratitude.

     So, now you know what I’ve been thinking the last couple of days.  The first anniversary of my Mom’s death is coming up very very soon.  I’ve been thinking about her too.  Especially after just getting back from Ohio and the old homestead.  But I will write specifically about her at a later time.  Love to you all.

peace,

Cinnamon

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2 Responses to "~~~Death and Taxes~~~"

All I have to say Cin is that we luv you and glad that we are all here to be friends.
Hugs & Kisses
B & S

Back atcha my beautiful friend.

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Goofy Me

I am: an Air Force vet, Mom, sister, friend, Lifestyler, and all-around smartass with a heart of gold. I have lived all over the far East and learned many things about people and cooking, art and true value. I like to share my experience with the rest of the world. I will be the most loyal friend or most annoying enemy you've ever known. Honest to a fault. My life has not always been easy, but it has never ever been boring.

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