Chapter 11: Living in a Dreamworld!

Anyone who has ever owned commercial property and a business can relate to the following long list of disasters. Most businesses fail in the first year. I think it is 85% actually. If I hadn’t been so stubborn and unyielding I would have failed also, but I was determined and committed. I could have easily folded at any time and gone bankrupt. No one would have held it against me with all I went through. I am not that guy though. Winners never quit and quitters never win. So, I grabbed that bull by the horns and rode it until I broke it. In retrospect, we really just broke each other I suppose.

I had counted the cost of remodeling the building and making it into a club. It was well within my means. It was a stretch, but I could do it. I figured we would just throw some walls up, blow some insulation, put in a stage and some lights, put in a few bathrooms, and bang we are in business. “Not so” said the mean city building inspectors, “ we have a very different plan for you. One that involves spending ridiculous amounts of money on useless things to appease our retarded rule makers. We would like to see you fail. We will laugh at your demise. We will shrug at your failure and gloat that we have protected our city from another terrible evil... you. We will not lift a finger to give you any advice at all, even though it is on the tip of our tongue. Even though the answer is simple we will still confuse you and make your task seem impossible. After all, that is our job. We don’t like you or your kind. In fact, we don’t really like anyone... including ourselves. After all we are government workers. Have you ever seen one of us smile? We don’t even remember how to any more.”

Of course, they weren’t that straight forward or that nice. I have to candy coat it for you so it doesn’t sound as bad as it really was. It is all done in the name of protecting me from lawsuits, but that wasn’t it at all. You see Arlington is the biggest city in America without any public transportation. We don’t have subways or rails or trains or buses. We don’t even have taxicabs. If you want a taxi you have to call out of the city to get it. We have over 350,000 people and not one freaking’ taxicab! They all pretend that this is a big mistake and that they are trying to work on it, but I have been to the city council meetings. They just keep stalling. They know their own system and they keep working it. They silence and frustrate anyone who opposes them. Why? Because we also don’t have homeless people or transients or beggars in Arlington. If poor people can’t get around then they can’t stay here. You have to have a car to live here, and that is the way they want it. The average household income in Arlington is $56,000 a year, which is above average for the area.

There are also no nightclubs. I take that back. There are several country bars that have the city’s full support. What I meant was there are no rock clubs in Arlington. There are lots of bars, just no rock clubs. Now let me tell you why. There are a lot of “good old boys” that run the town. The whole thing is political and prejudice and wrong, but that doesn’t change anything does it?

As soon as I bought the property I went to City Hall to get a building permit and to get my electricity turned on. The head building inspector cussed me out! He said that I NEVER should have bought the property without consulting him first. He said even though the zoning on it was right, that there would still be no way that I could meet all the requirements that they would have for me to get a Certificate of Occupancy and actually open my business. He said all this before he even knew what kind of resources I had to work with. This began a long frustrating process of dealing with completely unhelpful inspectors and planners and architects, etc. Years later I am still dealing with the same morons on a regular basis. You know who you are and yes, you are morons. So there.

I sat in their offices for ridiculous amounts of time until they would finally see me. I would get small tidbits of information from each one of them and then compile it together into a new plan. Almost everyday the plan had to change because of some other code they just found that restricted me from doing what I needed to do. I would ask for some help or advice, but would get none. So, I would ask to see their code books. They wouldn’t let me check them out and they wouldn’t tell me where to get a copy for myself, so I simply sat in the waiting room and looked up codes on my type of building and my type of business. There was one nice lady who worked there. She would come over and give me tips on where to look when no one was watching her. I could tell she was upset about the injustice of the whole thing. She really helped a lot. From time to time the inspectors would get tired of looking at me and they would just point me in the right direction.

At long last they gave me an OK to start working on my remodeling project. Little did they know, but I had been working tirelessly on the remodeling project the whole time anyway. I just wanted to be legal. I got pretty good at playing their games. We put plastic across all the front windows so that you couldn’t see inside. We would lock all the doors and not come outside for anyone unless we saw who it was first. I kept a lookout guy up front just in case a building inspector came by.

One day, our building inspector drove up unannounced. I told the guys to hide all our tools behind sheetrock or in rooms and lock the doors. They started doing that and I casually walked outside. I walked right up to the car window of my friendly neighborhood building inspector and started asking him technical questions about my project. It was stuff I already knew, but I knew he would have to look it up in his book. He finally would find the answer and I would say “Oh really! Well what about the height of our outlets and switches?” At which point he would have to look that up. I kept him going for about thirty minutes. Finally I said “Well, I think that is all the questions I have for you today. Thanks for stopping by. I’ll see you later.” He put his car in reverse and drove away.

I still don’t know if he realizes that I totally distracted him from the surprise inspection he was there to do. We were always doing stuff like that. It was great. We would laugh every time one of them would leave. It wasn’t that they were dumb really. It was that I knew what they were looking for and I kept them away from that without them even knowing that I knew. It was brilliant. Who knows? Maybe they just enjoyed watching the whole song and dance. Maybe they just didn’t care. Either way, it was funny. I sure can act dumb!

Trying to get a straight answer out of a city or government worker is like an unsharpened pencil. It is pointless. So, I thought I would beat them at their own game. If they wanted to give me vague lame answers, then I would give them vague lame answers. I made my blueprints on a sheet of notebook paper. I made sure it was very sloppy and hard to read. I made sure that if I wanted to change anything that they wouldn’t know the difference anyway. When asked a direct question I would dance all around the issue without ever actually answering the question directly or making any type of solid commitment. At first, I thought it would be a disaster, but it actually worked. It was what they were used to, so I went with it.

I worked on that building day and night until I opened. I worked 20 hours a day, seven days a week, for 10 straight weeks without a break. It cost me everything I had. Because of handicap accessibility and fire codes I had to spend at least $100,000 more than I had originally intended. I had to mortgage my house, and clean out savings and checking. I racked up $50,000 more in debt on my line of credit, $50,000 more from my home equity, another $50,000 in credit cards. I had bought $15,000 worth of mutual funds, which were primarily in future technology and Internet stocks. Of course the Internet stocks all crashed about that time. I had to cash out the $15,000 for less than $8,000 just to make ends meet. At the end of the whole thing I had spent $545,000! I owed all of my subcontractors. I owed $12,000 on my PA. And I had to borrow money from my family that they didn’t have. River talked to my mother behind my back and said “John isn’t doing well. It would help if you guys could come up with $20,000 or so and loan it to him for a while.” They got $5,000, which I was grateful for.

We finally got a Certificate of Occupancy the day we were supposed to open, December 2nd, 2000. I was bloody and beaten. I was exhausted beyond recognition. I had grown a full beard because I hadn’t found time to shave in two and a half months. I was discouraged and disheartened. We built the stage the day before we opened. The Fort Worth Star Telegram came out to do a story on us. They took pictures of us building the stage and put them on the front page of the paper. By this time we were already a political “hot potato”. The city people were all in trouble for letting us slip by. I remember my building inspector saying to me “John, I admire your resilience. You jumped through all our hoops and never gave up. Nobody wanted this club to open, but you wouldn’t take no for an answer. You might stand bloody, but you do stand.” I was touched. He had hit the nail right on the head.

Well, I guess the entire city read that we were building a stage the night before opening and the powers that be decided that we couldn’t do that. We were moving miter saws and air compressors backstage and trying to make our jobsite look like a music venue when it happened. The building inspector came at 4:58 on opening day and said “We are going to shut you down.” I argued, but they would close in two minutes and we were supposed to open in two hours. I finally negotiated with them and they agreed to reduce our occupant load down from 980 to 600 people until we got the whole thing cleared up. But they assured me that it was only because of the amount of press I had gotten already that they even allowed it. They threatened me and said that the fire marshal WOULD be by to do a headcount that night and they would shut us down with a smile if there was one extra person in there.

It was crushing! The bands had promoted. We had promoted. We had worked hard. Just for them to come and rain on our parade two minutes before closing. I thought it was dirty, but we honored the 600 person occupant load for two months after that until they finally gave us a straight answer. We had to put in three extra fire doors, which was ridiculous, but we finally beat them.

Opening night was chaos, but it was beautiful chaos. I had spent everything I had. I owed my employees money, lots of it. I didn’t even have enough to buy concessions to sell that night. My realtor, Becky, stepped up and bought concessions for me out of her own money. She said it was an honor to know me and that anything she could do to help was her pleasure. People came out of nowhere to help. Until a few hours before, all we had been was a remodeling job that seemed like it would never end. All of the sudden we actually transformed into a nightclub. Everyone did their part. About 600 people showed up and suddenly there was money everywhere! I didn’t get any of it of course because I had to let the band take the door since they let me have their PA system. We grossed about $10,000 that night. Wow!

There were problems and bugs to work out everywhere and it was all my problem, but the crowd never knew the difference. We had to park cars in the grassy field next door to us. It rained heavily that night and lots of cars got stuck in the mud, but I pulled them out with my truck. Some girl’s parents threatened to sue me because their daughter had apparently gotten kicked in the head in the mosh pit. I think they were planted by the city. No one saw her get hit. There was no mark. The person who she pointed out that had kicked her had witnesses that said she hadn’t done any such thing. I somehow talked them into not suing me. I think they got a change of heart after actually talking to me. That happens to me a lot.

The night finally ended. We had done it! What had only been a dream before was now a Dreamworld! By the way that is what I called it: Dreamworld Music Complex. We had made the impossible possible. Let me describe it to you. It is 12,500 square feet. That is 50 feet wide and 250 feet long with 19 foot tall ceilings in the main room. The venue has a stage that is 40 feet wide by 30 feet deep by 4 feet tall. If you can’t visualize that, it is freakin’ huge! We have a suspended light rack with 26 Par 64 can lights, 4 intelligent lights, 3 strobe lights, a few smoke machines, and a few extra lights.

Our main room can hold 980 people. We also have a recording studio and 23 band rehearsal rooms. The bands can practice 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for a monthly fee. If they want they can rent the rooms by the night. Each different aspect of the place creates traffic for the others. It is like one stop shopping for a music lover and musician. It got a slow start. We had a lot of bad press. We were on the front page of the papers more than once. We were on the news and the radio. People knew about us, but it wasn’t all good. There was another problem. We are all ages so we don’t serve alcohol. However, I do let secular bands play at my venue. So, Christian people hate me because I have secular bands, but everyone else hates me because I don’t serve alcohol.

This has been a constant struggle since Dreamworld opened. We continued to have problems from the city. They would send out everyone they had. I got visits from the TABC, The Health Department, The Fire Marshal, The Police, Code Enforcement, and so on. We even had undercover cops and the FBI out on more than one occasion. They threatened our neighbor and forbid him to let us use the grassy parking lot for overflow parking. They would tow cars when we had big shows. One night in particular they towed 120 cars at over $100 each. They made about $15,000 that night. I lost more business than I can ever even know. It was very disheartening. The city was determined to get rid of me.

I was barely scraping by. I was upside-down on everything. All I was paying was interest and lots of it. I owed everybody lots of money. I couldn’t get a breath. I never had enough, but I also never gave up. We tried lots of different things. We rented the building out to a friend of mine to start a church on Sunday mornings. We tried every type of music to see which ones brought people out. We tried doing a rave on New Year’s Eve of 2000. I lost money. Only 14 people showed up. Later someone offered us $500 to have another rave. I took the money. The promoter lost money. Only a handful of people showed up.

Then it happened. The promoter that had lost money told someone that we would host raves. One of our rival clubs was told that they couldn’t have raves anymore on the day of a big show. They needed a new venue and we were it. We already had a show that night, but they were willing to pay me $2,500 to rent the venue after our other concert that night. I thought it was dumb of them, but I needed the money so I said yes.

I had never met my real father and Lana had been looking for him for a few years. He had been homeless for about 30 years or so. He had no driver’s license or home address. There was no getting in touch with him, but she had written a letter to a friend of his about a year earlier. He showed up on February 17th, 2001. I had never even seen a picture of my father, Sky, until about a year earlier. I went to go pick him up when he called me. He had very long hair and a very long beard, both down to his waist. He carried everything he owned on his back. He was intelligent, but delusional.

I bought him something to eat and took him back to the club. He said that I could say he was someone that was working for me so that he wouldn’t embarrass me. I told him that if anyone asked I would tell the truth, that he was my father. I have never been ashamed of the truth. If someone doesn’t like it then they can deal with it, but I won’t lie and cover up the truth. We talked for a while. He got me alone behind the building and started to freak out. He started talking to people that weren’t there and grabbing things that weren’t there.

He started saying some mumbo-jumbo that didn’t make any sense. He said, “ I have saved the world several times over, but the world doesn’t want to be saved. It keeps going back to its sin. Jesus hates you. He wants to F*** you in the A**. He wants to eat your soul spark. He wants to feed on you. The devil is his brother and he hates you too. They want me dead for telling their secrets. I have to be careful. They listen to everything. They look on the Internet and tap the phone lines, but they also use psychic powers to read our minds. So, I have to train myself to not think about things for too long or they will find me and kill me. They want me dead. I can save you right now. Bang! There is life! Do you want it? Bang! There is death and hell! Is that what you choose?”

He was waving his hands around and pointing in the air. He would go into trances and then mumble nonsense. It was very disturbing. He looked troubled. I wish I could do justice to his insanity. It just sounds so normal when I say it in comparison. I thought for a moment and I said, “ You don’t have to worry about that when you are with me. River and I have set up psychic blockers and debugged all of our phones and Internet. When you are in our homes, our cars, or Dreamworld then you are safe from all that.” It was the dumbest thing I think I ever said, but then he took a deep breath and he had a sigh of relief. He simply looked at me calmly and said “Thank you! That was so thoughtful of you.”

I almost laughed out loud, but then I realized he was serious so I just went with it. If it calmed him down from that delirious fit then I was happy. River showed up later and he tried the same thing with him. River wasn’t going to put up with that crap. He nipped it in the bud. He said, “I don’t care about any of that stuff. Tell me about you. I want to know about your life and then I’ll tell you about mine. That’s it.” He calmed down again. It was unsettling to say the least.

He told River about how he had been all over the world. He told a story about when he was on a small boat somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. He was sleeping and one of the people on the boat stole his guitar from him. He asked a few people about it, but no one was talking. He shamelessly walked to the biggest group of people on the boat and simply said, “ I am an angel of God. If you don’t give back my guitar I will call down all the wrath of God on this boat and you will all be sorry.” Apparently it was very convincing because the guitar instantly appeared and they all treated him like a God for the rest of the trip.

He told another story about how some cowboys had seen him walking down the highway one night and they all proceeded to beat him bloody and leave him in a ditch to die. How can people be so cruel? How do you justify doing that? What is the point of beating up a homeless man that is doing no harm to anyone? It is a sad account of our world in my opinion.

He pulled out this guitar that was mostly duct tape and started trying to tune it in some weird way. By this time I had given up all hope. I’m sure I rolled my eyes. Then he pulled out this flute that he had made for me some twenty years earlier and had been carrying around for all that time. He started rubbing it back and forth on the twelfth fret like a harmonic. He said, “it takes a minute, but if it happens it sounds like angels singing. I made it up myself. I call it a triple harmonic.” An annoying noise came out and I got ready to suffer through some more insanity. Then, it happened and he was right, it did sound like angels singing. I had never heard anything like it before. It was beautiful! Then he started playing songs in this weird tuning, and he started singing. It was amazing! It was like the only time he could get himself in tune was when he was playing and singing music. Everything else just took a backseat. He was very talented. He had written thousands of songs. He had made copies of several hundred of them for us. I asked him to teach me the tuning and he did.

Him and River and myself jammed together for a few hours. It was very freeing. The whole thing touched me. He knew lots of things about massages and health food. He gave me a massage and said something like “this part of your back is tense, that means blah, blah, blah.” I forget what it was now, but he was right! He knew a lot more than he let on. He had been everywhere and although his mind was a mess from too much acid, he deserved my respect. He had seen a lot more than I could ever hope to see. He had wisdom from years of fearless exploration. Had he lost his mind somewhere along the way? Yes. But that didn’t change the fact that he still had things that I could learn from him.

He stayed up at the club with us that night. We had our concert and then the parking lot started to fill up for the rave that would happen after the concert. We were paid the $2,500 as if it were nothing. I left the promoter in charge for a minute while I went to my office. When I came back there were wall to wall people. It took me ten minutes to get from one end of the club to the other end because of the crowd. There were at least 1,500 people in the club that had each paid $25 to see this show! I thought I was just going to take this guy’s money, but he was for real!

Then the drugs started. There was ecstasy everywhere. People were lighting joints in the building. There were dog piles of people groping each other. Girls were getting naked. People were throwing up. It was out of control. Someone came over from the parking lot and said that an old guy named Norman had just come up and said, “ I am going to shut this place down. I have never liked it anyway. I am calling the police and the fire marshal and the mayor. I used to be the head of human resources for 24 years and I will shut this place down if it is the last thing I do.”

I didn’t think anything of it. I was far too busy kicking people out for doing drugs. It was a steady string. We would kick a group out and then another one would be doing the same thing. Then the cops showed up and started blaming me for the whole thing. They raided the place. Police were walking me around saying “look there are kids puking and doing drugs. Do you know what this Vick’s is for? Ecstasy! Everyone has pacifiers to keep their teeth from chattering while they are doing X. It smells like pot in here. Those kids are drunk. What kind of a place are you running here?” They threatened to shut me down for good.

I told them that I didn’t think anyone would show up for this thing. I told them about the raves we had had earlier and what a flop they were. The promoter had disappeared with about $38,000. He had several pieces of luggage full of money! The whole thing fell on me. It was the beginning of the end for me, but I didn’t know it yet. Then the Fire Marshal showed up because we were over occupied. He didn’t seem to care at all. He seemed irritated that the police had woken him up at 2 am for such a petty thing as this. He said that the country bar on the other side of town over occupied all the time and they just told them to not let anyone else in for the rest of the night. I agreed and thanked him for his time. The cops were at my place for the rest of the night.

They couldn’t really arrest me for anything or write me a ticket because I was cooperating and it really wasn’t my fault. I was also doing everything in my power to make it right. Eventually they wrote me a ticket for “unreasonable noise”. I was zoned in a light industrial zone. The closest business that was open at that time was at least 20 miles away. The cops told me to take the ticket and thank them for not arresting me. I was going to pay the ticket, but then someone tipped me off that the city was trying to build a grievance against me so they could shut me down. So, I found a lawyer who would defend me for $300. He said it was refreshing to defend someone who was actually innocent. Later, I referred him to someone I knew that had gotten in some trouble. I asked if he would take a case like that. He said, “You mean defend criminals? John, that’s what I do. I am a defense lawyer.”

As the weeks went by, the police came more and more. I ended up knowing them all by name. I assured them that I had remedied the problem. I tried to work with them in every way possible. They made it seem as if the noise complaints were the main issue. I had meetings with experts and police. I invited the man that was calling in the noise complaints to come and see the place. It was Norman *****, the same guy that had threatened to shut me down. He called every night, even if we weren’t open. He called the police 306 times in less than three months. It was ridiculous!

He was afraid we would lower his property value. He was unyielding. He called the police and the mayor every night for over a year. He might still call. I don’t know. He was a thorn in my side. I built 3 foot thick walls full of sand, insulation, and several layers of well-designed walls to try to keep the noise from reaching his house that was over a mile away until I realized it was not about the noise. It was never about the noise. It was about people that looked different and a crowd he was afraid of.
Norman was my worst nightmare and my best friend all at the same time. He cost me thousands of dollars and lots of sleepless nights, but he overdid it so much that the police got tired of hearing him complain, so they finally lost interest. And even though he had a lot of power in the city from his previous position no one liked him. He had always been mean to everyone, so when the time came no one wanted to help him out.

I’ll tell more about the noise complaints later. But, that is a different story. There were other things going on at the same time. One week after the police raided me, my wife called me during a concert. I had been busy working and dealing with all the problems that the club had given me and I knew I had neglected her recently. She said she was having a panic attack and that she needed to go to the hospital. I tried to talk her through it. She made me feel like dirt because I didn’t drop everything and take her to the emergency room. She came up to the club to let me know what a jerk I was. I did feel pretty bad.

She left and then River’s wife gave me a note. It was February 25th, 2001, a day that will echo through the halls of my memory for the rest of my life. The final nail was about to be driven in. I knew I worked too much and I knew we were having some problems because of our financial situation at the moment so I thought this would be another one of those “you need to spend more time with me and the kids” notes. Nope. I was blind-sided. Lana always said that if I ever cheated on her that she would divorce me without a thought. She would say all kinds of graphic things about what she would do to me if I ever did cheat on her. I never wanted to cheat on her. Honestly, I never thought she would cheat on me either. I met her in church. She was a good mother. Not always the best wife, but I loved her. I guess I thought if she ever did cheat on me, which she wouldn’t, I would kill her and whoever the guy was. I could plead temporary insanity and walk away from the whole thing.

The note said something along the lines of:

“Dear John,

I love you and I will always love you. You have been working a lot lately. I have been crying out for attention, but you are too busy to notice. I met some friends and we have been hanging around a lot lately. They brought out some marijuana and started smoking it. You know that I have always wanted to try it and I didn’t think it would hurt anything, so I did. At first I didn’t feel anything, but then everything got fuzzy. This guy put on a condom and started having sex with me. I thought it was you. Then I realized it wasn’t and I told him to get off of me. I grabbed my purse and left. I threw up. I wish I could take it back.

I don’t want to be friends with them anymore. I don’t want to be a hippy any more. I want to be your wife. I love you. You were right about drugs. Please take me back and we can have a wonderful life together.

Your wife forever,

Lana”

That is a paraphrase, but it is close. The real note was a lot longer and she beat around the bush more. I threw away the real note a long time ago. Needless to say I was devastated and heartbroken. They say the phases of grief are: shock, denial, anger, depression, and acceptance, and hopefully forgiveness. I think it is safe to say I was shocked at first. I didn’t see it coming at all. We argued sometimes, but it was still a lot less than most couples I knew. I just didn’t understand why she would do something like that to me. It didn’t make any sense. I gave her everything she wanted and everything she needed. Anything she asked for I gave her without question. I trusted her with everything. I was married for life and I never held anything back. The way the note was written implied that this guy had almost raped her. It also said how sorry she was and although I was upset I wanted to make the whole thing work.
I felt sorry for her more than anything. It must be a terrible feeling to be able to do that to your spouse. I guess you never really know the way you will react in a situation until you are put in it. I thought I would kill them both or at least want to. Instead I just wanted to make it right. I thought “what kind of a man would I be to ask forgiveness from God from all the things I had done and not forgive my own wife for what she had done to me?”

I naturally had a lot of questions running through my mind. I knew she hadn’t told me the whole truth. I had been high plenty of times and nothing like that ever happened. I also knew that it took a lot of time for a guy to get her undressed and himself undressed, get a hard-on, put on a condom, and start having sex with her. There was plenty of time to realize it wasn’t me. Marijuana doesn’t get you that far out of it. She knew it wasn’t me...and that hurt.

I asked River and his wife what they knew about the whole situation. They played dumb and gave me a few clues, but I figured that they knew more than they were letting on. I wanted to know who this guy was that had slept with my wife! Was it someone I knew? He had to be some kind of rich stud to take her away from me. After all, I wasn’t bad looking. I was strong and able. I made sure she was satisfied every time. And although times were bad I still made better money than anyone I knew. So who was this guy? I had to know. There would be no way that I would let him smugly get away with this. I didn’t want to have him come into my house and shake my hand and eat my food and sit on my furniture and have him be smiling inside all the while knowing that he had screwed my wife. That wasn’t going to happen. I had to know.

I didn’t know what the right thing to do was. I hadn’t planned for this at all! How do you deal with something like this in a righteous way? I resolved to try to forgive her and make it work somehow. The concert finally ended and I went home. The kids were asleep, Lana wasn’t. She tried to act like it was nothing and that it would all be all right if we just didn’t talk about it. We both cried a lot. She lied a lot. I finally got it out of her that it was a guy that worked at a health food store that she went to. His name was Brad. The way she talked about him you would think he was a saint. I told her I would forgive her and take her back... if she never saw him again at all. She couldn’t go to that store anymore. I didn’t want her calling him or answering his calls. I didn’t want her at his house and I definitely didn’t want him at my house. If she went back to him then she would lose me forever and that was the only way I would take her back.

She groveled a lot and said how sorry she was and how bad she wanted it to work between us. I believed her and I took her back. I let it go and didn’t tell anyone. I covered for her to save her from the humiliation that she would face if anyone knew. River and his wife knew and Joel and his wife knew (Joel was a guy that worked for me and he was there when I got the note) but no one else knew. So I kept my mouth shut about it and I didn’t even bring it up to her. I told her I would forgive her and not bring it up, so I did.

Inside I was hurting though. I felt so betrayed. I felt like a failure. I felt inadequate. It felt like a huge dumpster had been lowered on my chest. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to focus on work or anything else for that matter. It was always on my mind. The thought of your wife with someone else is a haunting thought that doesn’t quickly heal.

That night she had also come clean on a lot of other things. She had been smoking for the last year behind my back and I didn’t know about it, but everyone else did. That was very unsettling. How can your spouse smoke for a year without you knowing it? How can she keep covering up a lie for that long and me not even suspect? She had gotten high several times, not just once. In fact, I got the feeling that she was a regular user. The more I paid attention the more I realized that she only hung out with people that were probably druggies. I had never really paid attention because I did too at the club, but that was my business and I didn’t adhere to what they did.

I also knew she had been drinking a lot recently. I thought she would get sick of it after a while, but she was drinking quite a bit. I caught her in several lies, things that she didn’t have to lie about. She would take money out of my wallet while I was sleeping and then lie about it. If she wanted money all she had to do was ask. So why lie? When I asked her about it all she had to say was “Yes, I needed money for________”. That would have been the end of it.

One night she called me while I was having a concert. She was having another panic attack. She had been having a lot of those recently. She skated around the actual issue for a while, but she finally told me what was bothering her. She was afraid that she might be pregnant or have a venereal disease. She had always been a hypochondriac, but I didn’t think she was that naive. If he wore a condom and stopped before he finished then it was pretty much impossible.... unless she had been lying.

I got it out of her that they had been together several times, not just once. She had given him oral sex on more than one occasion. Some of these times had been since she confessed to me. All of the sudden this wasn’t one slip up, and it wasn’t anything like the way she had described it to me. This was a full blown affair. I was furious! She had already gone to some clinic to get tested, but the results hadn’t come back yet.

I told River about what she had said. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised. He told me that the only reason Lana had told me about the affair was because he found out about it through his wife. Joel’s wife and River’s wife had found out a while back, but they told her to never tell me at all. River’s wife has a big mouth and so it got back to River. River told Lana “You are a dirty whore b**** for doing that to John. He is a good man and he is my brother. You will tell him what you did or else I will! I have never liked you anyway and my story will be a lot worse than yours.” So the only reason she told me at all was not that she felt bad for cheating, but because she felt bad for being caught!

Someone came out to my club and said “I see your wife all the time up at ___________” (the health food store where she wasn’t supposed to be). I asked when the last time he saw her there was and he said, “I talked to her and the kids yesterday. Actually, several people came to me saying things like that. I had let it go for a while and I was willing to forgive her for things done in the past, but this had to stop. She was still lying to me and cheating. I decided to meet this Brad guy. I went up to the store where he worked and asked for him. They unknowingly gave me a description of him, but he wasn’t there at the time.

I came back later and saw him working. He didn’t know me, so I just watched him for a while. He was tall and fat. He probably weighed over 250 pounds. He was unkempt and dirty. Dirty like he didn’t take showers, dirty. He had pork chop side burns and thick horn rimmed glasses. He had a high pitched, whiny voice. He worked in the meat department and didn’t look like he was in charge. He couldn’t have made more than $8 an hour and I knew he lived in an apartment with roommates. I was almost disappointed. How humiliating! If she had cheated with a good looking, young, fit doctor I could almost understand. But this guy! She preferred this idiot over me? It didn’t make sense.

After a while he noticed me looking at him and asked if he could help me. I asked if he knew Lana and he said yes. I asked if he was screwing her. He got a little nervous and then hesitantly said yes. Then he asked why. I got a little closer to him and I said, “Because she is my wife.” Well, he wasn’t just a fat nerd. He was a coward too. Which was no surprise. He got really scared and started apologizing and making excuses. He said, “ Man, I am so sorry. I never wanted anything to happen, but she kept pushing it. We went out a few times and she would complain about you then she started holding my hand. She told me she loved me. It really freaked me out. She won’t leave me alone! I don’t know what to do. We did sleep together. I just want her to leave me alone.”

Now I knew he probably would have said anything to get away from me at that moment. I was stronger than him and madder than him. I could have killed him right there in the store and no one would have really cared once they knew the story and I’m sure he knew that. I knew that some of what he was saying was a lie, but I also knew that some of what he was saying was true. That made me even madder at Lana. She had pursued him! Was I really that bad that she had to replace me with this loser?
I told him to never talk to my wife again. I said, “ I don’t care if she strips down naked in front of you and offers you anything you want. I don’t care if it is all her fault. If I find out you have so much as talked to her again I will make your life a living hell. I know people and you will regret it.” I’ll admit it was an idle threat. I wouldn’t have hurt anyone anyway. But it scared the crap out of that guy. He kept groveling like a coward as I walked away.

I didn’t tell Lana what I did because I wanted to see how long it was until they saw each other again and then I would know that she knew. Needless to say it didn’t take long. They were seeing each other all the time. I’ll get back to this story in a minute. I have to tell you what else was going on at the same time. My life was under fire on every side. I might have been able to handle any one of these things, but I was being overrun with tragedy.

Previous Chapter (10) Next Chapter (12)