The people in this story are real and this is their story. More or less.
I have taken some literary license and embellished some of the facts. Comments are requested and appreciated.
Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on my story. Please enjoy.
It's Saturday night and I'm sitting here at the bar waiting to get my ass kicked, again. Wait, I hear the one doing the kicking coming in now. This will be the third time in seven weeks that it will happen and at the same bar. Why don't I change bars you ask? I will answer that question by telling you my story. Here goes.
My name is Jack (Jackson really, after my dad), I am 24, 6 feet 2 and about 220 pounds. I have a worked harden body; the muscles aren't from the gym. Although I do run about 3 miles two times a week to help keep in shape. I am fairly good looking; you wouldn't be ashamed to be seen with me anyway. I work in a stocking warehouse, as assistant inventory manager.
A stocking warehouse receives deliveries from manufacturers and set up loads for shipping to their local customers as needed. I'm supposed to be at a desk, but there is always something on the floor that I have to help load and ship. My job is a lot more physical than the title implies.
Now, let me introduce you to Karen, my ex-fiancée, my significant other, my soul mate, and the reason I am getting my ass kicked on a regular basis. Karen is also 24 and tall for a woman at 5 feet 11; she is slender, not thin, and well endowed. (She has big boobs). She works for an insurance company as a claims adjuster.
At the time that the trouble began we had been dating, and then engaged, for 2 years. Karen and I met as freshmen in college and really didn't date until the last half of our senior year. We joined the same study group as freshmen and our study group continued all through college, so we spent time together for 4 years. After our first semester in the group, we became friends as well as study partners. When the group paired off to study different subjects, Karen and I always seemed to be pushed together.
I didn't have any really close friends in college, just a few beer buddies. Guess I studied too much to become a full fledged member of the party pack. It wasn't that I was a stick in the mud or anything; my family and I had worked hard to be able to send me to school. I thought an education was more important than being a party animal. A few beers at the bar across from the campus were about the extent of my wild times in college.
However, the guy that I was closest to, or at least occasionally hung around with, was Chuck. According to Chuck, he is a ladies' man of great ability. I wouldn't know; I didn't spend that much time with him.
Karen and Chuck met at the beginning of our senior year and started to date, pretty much exclusively. After their dates, Chuck would tell the pack members and me about the wild sex they had on their last date. According to Chuck every date was the same, a great sexual adventure. I didn't believe him, but it could be. Karen and I were study buddies and casual friends, but I didn't know her sexual preferences. Anyway it wasn't up to me to protect her reputation; although I did warn Chuck about his ravings a couple of times. I explained to him there would be hell to pay if Karen found out he was talking about her.
Chuck, two of his cronies, and I was sitting at a table in the off campus bar and he was regaling us with the latest episode of wild monkey sex. I glanced over his shoulder and saw a trio of girls headed our way. Something about the way they were walking didn't make me think they were going to party with us. Karen was leading the crew and she looked pissed.
"You rotten son of a bitch," Karen screamed at Chuck. "How dare you spread your lies?" She continued for about three minutes, never once stopping her harangue and never once giving Chuck a chance to answer. "If my brother was here, he would rip off your head and use it for a door stop."
"I don't know what you are talking about Karen. I haven't said anything about us. Have I guys?" Chuck was looking at the three of us at the table to back him up. Both of his buddies shook their heads and agreed he had said nothing; that left me. Karen and her posse, Chuck and his pack, were all staring at me waiting for my answer. I was between a rock and a hard place; caught between two friends. One of the friends I was beginning to really like and the other was just a drinking buddy. You can probably figure out which is which.
This was a problem for me; you see I don't lie. I know what you are thinking, but it's true. It's not because of moral issues, well somewhat. Lying requires a lot of work and concentration to be good at it. You have to remember what you said, to whom you said it, and where you said it. Different people will have to have lies customized for them.
See what I mean? It's a lot of work. I don't like to work any harder than I have to, so it is just better to tell the truth. Truth is usually the best policy; I know, an old adage, but valid just the same. In addition, my dad had instilled some old school ideas in my head. One of these ideas was that your word is your bond; another way to put it was don't lie.
I don't mean that I'd intentionally hurt someone when a little subterfuge was necessary. As an example, my sister used to ask me if a skirt or pair of slacks made her look fat. I wouldn't tell her it looked like ten pounds of potatoes in a five pound sack. Instead, if they did make her look fat I would say no but that the color wasn't a good one for her. See no need to hurt people over the small stuff.
"Well Chuck, you have told us about a couple of dates and mentioned spending the night at Karen's place."
Chuck looked at me in disbelief and muttered, "Some friend you are."
"If you don't want a truthful answer don't ask me the question," I replied.
Karen turned back to Chuck and yelled at him, "You piece of crap, you have never even been to my dorm room much less spent the night. I have never allowed you to touch me below the neck or above the knee. What other lies are you spreading?"
This time she jumped his ass for a good five minutes. Chuck sat there and tried to answer her; all you heard from him was but, but, but, over and over. Finally Karen wound down, stepped up to Chuck and slapped him hard. I thought his head was going to come off. She turned to me smiled and she and the crew left the bar.
"Thanks a lot asshole," Chuck said to me, rubbing his cheek. "Why didn't you back me up?"
"I'm not the asshole here, Chuck. You're the one telling all the sex stories about Karen. To answer to your question, I don't lie about or to people, if I can help it. So don't put this on me, it's all on you and your big mouth."
Needless to say, Chuck and I didn't hang around together much after that. No big deal, we weren't that close to begin with.
The following week at the study group, Karen asked me to meet for coffee afterwards. It wasn't unusual for the group to go for coffee or a beer after class. When I walked into the little diner that we normally went to, Karen was at a table alone with two cups of coffee in front of her. This was a little out of the ordinary; usually there was at least one of Karen's crew with her. I sat down, put a little sugar in the coffee and waited for Karen to say something.
"I wanted to thank you for not lying for Chuck last week," Karen told me. "It wasn't easy for you to go against your friend."
"You're welcome, but you don't owe me any thanks, I just told the truth," I replied.
"It would have been easier for you just to go along with the others. I know your actions may have cost you a friendship with Chuck and I appreciate what you did."
"Again, no thanks are necessary. I just did what I believed to be the right thing. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I didn't do it all for you; I did it because of what I believe. You see, my dad taught me, my brothers, and my sister some old school ideas or virtues. Whatever you want to call them."
"Like what?" Karen seemed interested.
"My dad, and the whole family for that matter, believes that you are responsible for your actions and their consequences; we believe you should accept our laws and authority, but not blindly; and to me, most importantly, take care of your own. That means not only your family but also your friends. I guess these ideas are old fashioned now, but my family still believes in them. That's what I meant when I said I didn't do it just for you. Also I consider you a friend and I couldn't let Chuck dump on you like that."
"I feel we are friends also and still believe I owe you one. Let me take you for pizza and beer tomorrow night as a thank you."
"I would like that."
"It's a date. Can you pick me up at 7:00?"
The next night at 7:00, I picked Karen up at her dorm in my old truck and we went to a little pizza place close to campus. Every college has at least a couple of pizza joints close to school, but this one was more a family place instead of a college hang out. The food was good, the beer cold, and the company was excellent. I began to wonder if I wanted to be more than friends with Karen.
We had a really good pizza, some beers and great conversation. I don't remember anything of importance that was said but we got to know each other much better. The owner told us we had to go at 12:00, they were closing. We had spent the better part of four hours talking and laughing.
.... There is more of this story ...