I must have been about 21 when I fell in lust with my oldest's father. He was younger than me. Looking back, too young but I didn't think about it at the time. Actually we were both too young.

Johnny and I lived together in a nice neighborhood, in an apartment on the third floor that had purple carpeting running throughout it. We hadn't been living there long. I was working the third shift at Denny's as a waitress. I had worked about 4 hours of my shift when two girls on days called in. My manager asked me if I would be willing to go home for a couple of hours then return for the breakfast rush hours. Sure I said. It was a Saturday night and Sunday mornings were really busy and I could make some good money. I went home.

I arrived at the apartment in the wee hours of the morning. I put my key in the door and turned it. I went to open the door and I couldn't open it. I pushed harder. I managed to get it opened, sliding what I could see was our wing back chair that had been put under the doorknob. And the chain lock was on. I could hear a girl's voice come from the back of the apartment where our bedroom was. Instantly I was beyond anger.

"Johnny!!! Who is in there with you? Open this door!!" I screamed totally unmindful of the other apartment dwellers.

Johnny says like he is calming a wild animal (maybe he was)..."Just a minute. Calm down. I am coming."

I see his face appear in the small space between the door and the frame, his chin right above the chain lock. I promptly grab some of his beautiful curly hair in my fingers. I jerk his head/face hard towards myself.

"Wait, Wait! I can explain." Johnny wails.

"I bet you can." I let go of his hair. Some of his curls remained entwined in my fingers. He pulls back with two red lines from the edge of the door and frame going down his face.

"Really. It isn't how it appears." he says. " Go downstairs and give me a minute and I will come and we can talk." he reasons.

Suddenly a cold calm comes over me.

"Sure, Johnny. Sure. Whatever you say."

I turn and go back down the stairs. I calmly walk over to the trunk of my car, open it and take out a wooden baseball bat. I then walk over to his/our other car which was a wonderful blue Trans Am complete with louvers and a big black bird on the hood.

First, I rip off the louvers. Next I begin to hit the windshield with the bat. Bam Bam Bam. It is actually harder to break a windshield with a baseball bat than one might think. It looked so easy on television. Crack....finally the bat did its duty. I then begin to systematically go around the car hitting every side panel, quarter panel, door, and window that I can. I briefly look up at our apartment's window and there is Johnny's face peering out and him hollering to please quit it.

Right. Stop. No way. Finally I guess I ran out of anger. Then in horror I observed what I had done. My stomach sunk. I had gone too far. I went to my car and drove to a friend's house ( a friend that later ended up being the other woman and eventually marrying Johnny, but that is another story).

I called Johnny and now what he had done (screwed another girl in our bed) didn't seem so bad compared to the damage that I had done. He agreed not to call the police and I agreed to let it all drop. Odd looking back on it now. But a solution at the time that worked for awhile. It was only a matter of time before the relationship between Johnny and I ended. I learned that I had an anger that I couldn't control which changed me at some level.