Monday, September 5, 2011

The Night We Nearly Got Squished On The Bridge Post, 1990

There was a time Tacoma only had one bride. Galloping Gurtie was her name, but because it had a major engineering design flaw, it blew down. The only victim of the bridge blowing down was a reporter's dog. The reporter did not have time to get the dog and the dog flew into The Puget Sound. I have long thought the second bridge should have been dedicated to the deceased dog, but it was not. I am not sure what the dedication is or if there even is one. I am, quite frankly, too lazy to research that right now and I want to tell the harrowing story of nearly dying one night on a sailboat while going under the original Narrows bridge to the left.

First, I should confess I was dating a man seventeen years my senior. I commend my oldest brother for not flying out here and beating the crap out of the man because honestly, he deserved it. Mike, my oldest bro probably would have at least threatened to do this had he not been living in Denver. My parents were allowing me to make my own mistake and my other brother, well, I never want to talk to him again. He just called me a filthy name instead of thinking about protecting me. Quite frankly, the rest of the family ought to beat the crap out of my other brother, but we don't. He certainly deserves it the piece of shit.

The point of this story is this. The current under the Tacoma Narrows Bridge is very strong. Good sailors and motor boaters have no problem getting under it. The former need a solid wind, the latter a good motor. Sailors without a strong wind need a damn good motor. Our motor quit on us. That's right, our motor quit. You know what happens when your motor quits in a strong current and you are heading to a large post? You're about to die! However, I was young, about twenty-three, and obviously stupid to be dating a man who was forty, and I thought I could just push the boat away from the post.

The man, a lawyer of course, because so many of them are just effing idiots, began yanking furiously on the starter and screaming, "Jesus Fu---ing Cr--st!!!!" He said this numerous times and just before we hit the post, the motor started almost as if Jesus himself heard him and forgave him or was protecting me since he nearly qualified as a sex offender to be dating me. Neither one of us died that night. Unfortunately he did live and I only say this because now he reportedly dates a woman ten years younger than I am. I mean, how young can this man go? Does he card his dates? "Let me see your identification, please. Oh, You are eighteen. Good."

I have said so many offensive things in this blog I just don't know what to say. Sue me, Mr. no longer licensed lawyer. I have no assetts. Sue me asshole estranged brother of mine, I have no assetts. Furthermore, the likelihood of him reading this is so slim it would be like finding an ice sculpture in hell. The lawyer dumped be likely because I turned twenty-five I presume. I was going to graduate school to be a teacher so he decided to see if he could get into the same school the same year as me. He did not get admitted. He went somewhere else, thank God. The best thing that ever could have happened that he just moved on to other young victims though I do feel sorry for them. Those crafty lawyers and their crafty large words and lying ways. I could tell lawyer jokes here because just last year a complete stranger and I had a lawyer joke smack down. It was hilarious. There was no clear winner. -Alison Whiteman

6 comments:

Razer said...

Very interesting post. I really involved too much while reading this.
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Rozy said...

i like ur post bt the best thing is ur confession........

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Tacoma Gawker said...

What? Spam comments? LOL

Linda Medrano said...

Okay, let's settle in for a nice chat with Aunt Linda. First of all, when I was 23, I was an adult. If I wanted to date someone 75 years old, it was my business. Nobody controlled me and I made some good choices, some bad choices, and a lot of neutral choices.

I married Alex. We've been happily married for 22 years. He is 15 years younger than I. Age really is just a number. I also had a husband 20 years older than I. The marriage didn't last because of the people involved, not the age. Another husband was my age and there were two children, but that still wasn't enough to make the relationship a good one.

I married a lawyer. The choice of profession is not what made it go bad. My son is a lawyer with a lovely wife of 19 years and four beautiful children. A nicer man you would never find.

When you lump together age, profession, and such, I think it takes away some of the emphasis from the situations that you describe. While it's true that some lawyers are lousy people, some older men are bad for some younger women, and some journalists are untrustworthy, it simply cannot be said that these things are always true because they aren't. See what I mean?

Tacoma Gawker said...

Dear Aunt Linda,

First thank you for responding. I have to agree with everything you have said. Age is just a number. I guess it comes down to this particular man. It is certainly true there are many good lawyers out there. I was being a smarty lip there.

This man pushed me out into the Puget Sound knowing I did not know how to row a boat. Then he laughed at me as I struggled to get back to the sailboat.

I fell down hiking and he screamed at me for being a wimp (I did not know I had MS--it was hot--etc.)

He DID tell me he was going to dump me after the summer was over but I was such a dupe I didn't believe it.

The night he met me, I was with a group of folks who knew him, knew his history and pretty much wanted to beat the crap out of him. However, it was MY mistake that's for sure.

I am a person who learns through experience. I have to put my hand on the burner to learn not to do it again. In graduate school I was told this is the most frustrating kind of learner on the books. Others just "get it." I have to live it. Sincerely, Niece Alison

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