RE: More From MoFM's Storied Past

In case you are wondering how I could have put MoFM through all the shit we went through, I will attempt to give you some insight into the reality of all that transpired.



I lost my ever-lovin’ mind when the separation took place. (see Do you know what you’d do?) The fat bitch that caused all the turmoil was a ‘friend’. We had known her for 20 years. I met her when I worked at a local bank and she and I were both pregnant with sons. Over the years she kept appearing it seemed, from out of nowhere. A few years after I’d left the bank job I went to City Hall for some reason, and there she was behind the counter. A few years later and after we’d started our construction business I found her behind the counter at the Camp Pendleton contract office. I would run into her at our kid’s soccer games.


As Gorton’s alcoholism got worse and worse, he was spending less time at home, and when he was home he was a total embarrassment to the kids. I asked him to get help. He refused. He started spending the night at our office. I have to admit it was peaceful without him. Being a Veteran he could have received all the help he needed. That didn’t happen. Instead, he moved in with one of our employees and his family. I reckon I just kept hoping he’d miss us enough to get help and come home. Meanwhile, the business was going down the tubes. Entities we’d worked for over the years wouldn’t even allow him to bid jobs. A couple of years prior to all of this, business had gone downhill enough that I decided to get a real estate license to help the cause. At first I made some pretty cool sales. I was in my car most of the day, everyday. My pager was going off day and night. The kids loved it because I had a computer. That's another whole story.


As I drove around North San Diego County I would continuously see Gorton in strange places. As far as I knew, we didn’t have any jobs locally, but naïve as I was (am) I didn’t give it much thought.


One evening I got a phone call from a soccer player-friend on my team. She says ‘what was Gorton doing with ‘fat bitch’ at her son’s baseball game in San Diego?’. I was surprised, and explained that maybe he’d run into her down there somewhere, and she said ‘come watch the game’ and that there was likely nothing to it. I know, naïve may not be the word.


Then my car was stolen. (not the best years of my life) I loved that car. It had all my real estate stuff in it. I had to find it. The cops immediately found my son’s backpack, which had been in the trunk of my car, in front of a dumpster at an apartment complex nearby. The next day I took our Chevy Blazer out on the hunt for my car. I was determined to find it, and I did, in the same apartment complex. I pulled up behind it, saw a kid walking up to it with my keys in his hand and chased the bastard. I couldn’t catch him, so I called the cops, then I called our office to let Gorton know I’d found the car and asked him to bring me the extra keys. He wasn’t there, but our secretary said she’d track him down. The cops thought I was in on the heist because I found the car and they hadn’t. Unbelievable BS. They took my statement and left. I was there for another hour before Gorton arrived with my keys. I parked the Blazer and began the drive out of the complex. You’re not going to believe this next line. The fat bitch was standing on a corner inside the complex. Surprised to see her there, I said ‘what are you doing here?’ to which she replied, ‘showing a client an apartment, I see you found your car’…to which I replied something happy, but I have no idea what. I was just glad to have my car back.


Since ReMax was an expensive place to be a realtor I decided to go with a locally owned shop, with lower overhead. The first day I’m on the job at this company, I realize the fat bitch is a realtor in this office. Unbelievable. We become ‘lunch buddies’ and ‘caravan buddies’ and talk about all kinds of shit. She convinces me to move my desk into a double office that has opened up. Our desks face each other. She is constantly asking me about Gorton, and if he’s getting help and how he’s doing, and on and on. She tells me all about her rotten marriage, and that she’s getting divorced, yada, yada, yada. All the time I’m thinking, I do not want to go through that, I just want things to be good again. Of course at this point I have no idea that something is going on between her and Gorton. Nor do I to this day have any idea what year it may have actually begun.


Early on a Friday afternoon, it was St. Patrick's Day, I get a call from Gorton. He says he has to go to China Lake to do some finish painting over the weekend. Not an hour later, fat bitch shows up late for a lunch date we had. She said she'd been visiting a sick Aunt. (I know, how naive can one person be?) I asked her if she still wanted to go to lunch, to which she replied 'no, I have to go home and pack (one of her kids) for a soccer tournament up north.'
Okay, so this got me thinking about the last few months of odd things going on. Seeing Gorton in odd places, and suddenly realized it was sometimes near where I thought fat bitch lived, other times near hotels. The phone call from my friend.


It was pouring rain that day and I was to pick MoFM from school. I drove to the school, and asked one of her friends to take her home. I drove straight to our office to see if Gorton was still there. He wasn't. I went up to his office. Sat down at his desk and opened a drawer. Holy SHIT. There, piled high in the drawer were cards and letters from the fat bitch. Love, love, love. I was devastated. I made copies of all of them.


~ This is when I should have immediately gone to a lawyer. California is a no-fault divorce state, but by God, when you come up with evidence like I had, you have a pretty good case for a few years of alimony. I probably could have even sued the fat bitch. (I believe in North Carolina or one of those states, if you can prove infidelity, you CAN sue the bitch) ~


I wrote Gorton a simple little note and left it on his desk. Placed all the gushy love letters and cards back in the drawer, and left. I don't remember much after that. I know Gorton called me Sunday night when he returned. All he said is 'I'm sorry you had to find out that way.' I said 'gee, how did you WANT me to find out?'. This was simply the beginning of the end.


to be continued......