Another Broken Woman on the Periphery of My Life
reverendhornibastard
Depraved Deacon of Degeneracy
First, let me make something clear. I didn’t have anything to do with the hardships the woman in this story has undergone. Moreover, I can’t help her. I’d like to, but even if I had the time and energy to help her, her problems run far deeper than anything I can deal with.
I first met Amanda (not her real name) a few weeks ago. I named her “Amanda” in this story because upon meeting her I thought she bore more than a passing resemblance to Amanda Kloots. In fact, upon first meeting her it immediately occurred to me that I’d really enjoy “meating” her.
But I’m definitely not going to “meat” her. Amanda has more than enough troubles and sorrow in her life already. I don’t plan to add to them. Even if she were not such a troubled young woman, I am not so stupid as to canoodle a woman who not only knows where I live, but who can walk from her front door to mine in less time than it takes to boil an egg!
I had been dimly aware that an attractive, young blonde lived in the vicinity. I’d seen her out jogging with her dog, but I had never really given Amanda a second thought until she cornered me at the neighborhood mailbox depot a few weeks ago.
Amanda started up a conversation that was lengthy and weirdly personal for an introductory sidewalk chat with a stranger.
But Amanda was determined to tell me her recent life’s story. She had recently moved to the Houston area from Minneapolis. She works as a financial advisor for a major investment banking group, and she was recently divorced.
Then things took an even gloomier turn and tears began to well up in her pretty blue eyes as she elaborated how she and her ex-husband were trying to have a baby when she caught him cheating with a waitress he met at iHop.
As if that wasn’t enough, she later had to get a restraining order against her ex-husband because he had been physically abusive toward her during their marriage and had become threatening during their recent divorce proceedings.
Needless to say, I felt sorry for her. Amanda seems like a nice lady, but lonely and very emotionally needy.
Then I didn’t see or speak to Amanda for a while. But yesterday evening I decided to go for a bike ride through the nature preserve that borders our neighborhood. Deep in the forest I saw a woman sitting alone on a bench. She was rocking back and forth with her arms crossed. She looked like she might be in pain.
I didn’t recognize the woman as Amanda.
I stopped to see what was wrong. Still astride my mountain bike I called out from a distance of about 10 yards, asking if everything was alright.
Amanda looked up and turned toward me. Her face was red and wet. She had obviously been crying.
She leapt to her feet and ran towards me. Giving me a big, teary hug, Amanda almost knocked me off my bike. I dismounted and stood there in the forest with Amanda sobbing and clinging to me. Under the circumstances, I felt it necessary to embrace her as a show of support but was careful not to signal any amorous interest.
She eventually calmed down and asked me why her life was “turning to shit” (as if I would have any insight into that question).
She described no new calamities, so I assumed there were none. Even if she had new tales of woe, I didn’t really want to hear them. I don’t want to appear cold-hearted, but she has more and deeper problems than I know how to deal with.
Plus, she looks a lot like Amanda Kloots.
https://tuscl.net/photo/5755
If I tried to be supportive of a 70-something year old woman with osteoporosis and sagging, withered tits who was down on her luck, I suspect Mrs. Hornibastard would think highly of me.
But probably not in this case.
I first met Amanda (not her real name) a few weeks ago. I named her “Amanda” in this story because upon meeting her I thought she bore more than a passing resemblance to Amanda Kloots. In fact, upon first meeting her it immediately occurred to me that I’d really enjoy “meating” her.
But I’m definitely not going to “meat” her. Amanda has more than enough troubles and sorrow in her life already. I don’t plan to add to them. Even if she were not such a troubled young woman, I am not so stupid as to canoodle a woman who not only knows where I live, but who can walk from her front door to mine in less time than it takes to boil an egg!
I had been dimly aware that an attractive, young blonde lived in the vicinity. I’d seen her out jogging with her dog, but I had never really given Amanda a second thought until she cornered me at the neighborhood mailbox depot a few weeks ago.
Amanda started up a conversation that was lengthy and weirdly personal for an introductory sidewalk chat with a stranger.
But Amanda was determined to tell me her recent life’s story. She had recently moved to the Houston area from Minneapolis. She works as a financial advisor for a major investment banking group, and she was recently divorced.
Then things took an even gloomier turn and tears began to well up in her pretty blue eyes as she elaborated how she and her ex-husband were trying to have a baby when she caught him cheating with a waitress he met at iHop.
As if that wasn’t enough, she later had to get a restraining order against her ex-husband because he had been physically abusive toward her during their marriage and had become threatening during their recent divorce proceedings.
Needless to say, I felt sorry for her. Amanda seems like a nice lady, but lonely and very emotionally needy.
Then I didn’t see or speak to Amanda for a while. But yesterday evening I decided to go for a bike ride through the nature preserve that borders our neighborhood. Deep in the forest I saw a woman sitting alone on a bench. She was rocking back and forth with her arms crossed. She looked like she might be in pain.
I didn’t recognize the woman as Amanda.
I stopped to see what was wrong. Still astride my mountain bike I called out from a distance of about 10 yards, asking if everything was alright.
Amanda looked up and turned toward me. Her face was red and wet. She had obviously been crying.
She leapt to her feet and ran towards me. Giving me a big, teary hug, Amanda almost knocked me off my bike. I dismounted and stood there in the forest with Amanda sobbing and clinging to me. Under the circumstances, I felt it necessary to embrace her as a show of support but was careful not to signal any amorous interest.
She eventually calmed down and asked me why her life was “turning to shit” (as if I would have any insight into that question).
She described no new calamities, so I assumed there were none. Even if she had new tales of woe, I didn’t really want to hear them. I don’t want to appear cold-hearted, but she has more and deeper problems than I know how to deal with.
Plus, she looks a lot like Amanda Kloots.
https://tuscl.net/photo/5755
If I tried to be supportive of a 70-something year old woman with osteoporosis and sagging, withered tits who was down on her luck, I suspect Mrs. Hornibastard would think highly of me.
But probably not in this case.
26 comments
Remember the 3 rules for fucking around when married:
1. Don't shit where you eat.
2. Don't dip your pen in company ink.
3. Not in my back yard.
Those rules were intended to help avoid damaging entanglements with head cases just like this one. What do you think happens if you fuck around with her and then eventually decide to end it?
LoL. If I only had a dollar for every time…
I have the natural ability to attract damaged strays. I’ve learned to just say “NO!” but even so my plate always seems to be full.
I enjoy your stories…
Yes, Amanda is cute and she could be very tempting (and probably easy in her current state of emotional vulnerability). But even a dastardly, serial cheater like me is not THAT cruel. I’m definitely keeping my pants zipped up when Amanda is around.
Even if she was not so emotionally needy, the mere fact that she lives I such close proximity to my home, my wife and kids makes her way, way off limits.
I haven’t canoodled a neighbor since I was young, single and free to canoodle anyone I wanted.
Even back then, canoodling a neighbor proved to be a terrible idea.
“Emotionally needy”? Now that is just crazy stupid. lol
You ain't lying
Troubled souls are likely to open up when they see a man of the cloth.
She obviously needs help - and the help from a higher power can offer strength beyond what humans might understand.
Have you asked her to come to confession? It can be cathartic - and cleansing - even if it leaves a little goo in the hair...
Somebody (not me) needs to talk some sense into this woman.
It strikes me as peculiar that a woman so attractive, educated (MBA in finance) and accomplished (investment banking advisor) should be so emotionally fucked up.
I bet she was raised in a dysfunctional home.
I don’t recall what I was wearing. Probably gym clothes. I often just ride my bicycle to the mailboxes to collect whatever is in there.
Confession would be interesting.
If she has been a bad girl I would be tempted to have her drop her knickers so I could spank her with my face and then beat her with my swollen vital statistic.
Not a chance. I’m not that desperate or that stupid.
Maybe if she lived in Montana but not since she lives around the corner and about a block down the street.
Icey said he’s always willing to take it up the tailpipe and have five guys run a train on him as long as he gets a dime bag worth of weed out of the encounter.
Or should I say a bitch of her word?
Anything else is a result of your stoned delusions.
Going through life stoned and stupid is no way to live.
You wrote, and I quote;
“It strikes me as peculiar that a woman so attractive, educated (MBA in finance) and accomplished (investment banking advisor) should be so emotionally fucked up.
I bet she was raised in a dysfunctional home.”
The “dysfunctional home” you allude to is our Oversexualized & Sexually Repressed American culture/society.
Even today our culture persists in sending women mixed messages about their sexuality. We want women to be objects of sexual desire, yet we expect them to be pure...
The reality is that, just like men, women have a natural and healthy desire to be sexual. Yet women are less likely to reveal their sexual desire. American society encourages women to push their sexual desires down.
I was referring to the fact that you seem to be attracted and attract this particular type of “so emotionally fucked up” women.
Your sister in law and this neighbor sound very similar to me. the influence of the American Oversexualized & Sexually Repressed culture is Big all over the word.
In any case I hope you are aware and follow the advice I heard from a Doctor specialist in these types. “If you feel some unexplainable attraction, run away from her, run as fast as you can, and stay away.”
Just be careful out there.
The personality aspects take a little longer to detect (integrity, intelligence, humor, amiable or their opposites). Like most guys, I have been initially attracted to women who were awesome in every way as well as to some who turned out to be badly dented cans, heinous, manipulative bitches or pitiful basket cases.
On the flip side, some of the women who have been attracted to me were brilliant, some were idiots, some were strong-willed, some were weak and insecure.
If you know how to ensure that you are only attracted to, and that you only attract, the best the feminine world had to offer, please share that wisdom with the rest of us.
It is a matter of learn to survive by “readin' people's faces” and remember that “A man has to know his limitations.”
“Kenny Rogers - The Gambler”
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7hx4gdlfam…
“Every gambler knows
That the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away
And knowin' what to keep”
'Cause every hand's a winner
And every hand's a loser
And the best that you can hope for
Is to die in your sleep"
“You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run”
“You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done”
Serenity to accept the things You cannot change...
Courage to change the things You can, and...
Wisdom to know the difference.
Of course, everything is easier said than done. Wanting something is easy. Saying something is easy. The challenge and the reward are in the doing.
At the very least, be careful out there.
But a few turned out very differently, in both positive and negative directions. A few of them proved to be far more brilliant, tougher, independent and emotionally resilient than they seemed at first. I later wondered if they had initially hidden their strengths and talents out of a misguided sense that they might otherwise appear in feminine or scare me off.
Other women successfully hid their insecurities, indecisiveness, treachery and/or their true gold-digging intent until they thought I was “on the hook.”
Thankfully, it is rather difficult to conceal stupidity or ignorance. These traits are usually radiant and easily spotted.
On the other side of the coin, I have become a master of feigning sincerity, a skill that is enormously important when you’re trying to talk a woman out of her panties.
I don't really believe this, but go ahead and tell me that's not how a liberal thinks. Oh wait, nevermind, she could not have been a victim because she is a white female, therefore it was a victimless crime. Nonetheless, all of RHB's wealth and belonging should be seized and auctioned off to pay for reparations to people who were never slaves.