Six Degrees of AssClown Separation

Today I get an email from Sulie that says:

He has a connection between a connection of jch

Let me translate--Sulie was on linkedin. JCH is one of her contacts. The subject of this particular email was Paul B. He was a guy I dated for a short time in the early 90s. Here we are in 2010 and JCH (being the mover and shaker of the Tampa Bay business community) is connected on linkedin to a guy that is connected to Paul B. Funny. Ironic. Disturbing. 

Let's go back in time and reflect on Penelope circa late 1993. I had been living with Alex (aka the bald headed bastard--there may be some blog material on him later). We decided to be apart and evaluate things (i.e. I move out and we break up). I moved into a cute little apartment complex. One day I am walking into my place carrying tons of bags from Target with my new apartment purchases. I see a guy walk out of his apartment and he's kinda cute. I smile and say hi. About an hour later my doorbell rings. I look out the peephole and it's cute neighbor. I open the door and he has a plate of chocolate chip cookies. He introduces himself as Paul. We chit chat for a few minutes, I take the cookies and I thank him. The cookies looked homemade. I ate a couple as I unpacked. As the days went on, I saw Paul in the workout room. He had recently graduated from UF. He was an attorney. He was cute. He asked me to go out. I said yes. We made plans for Friday night. We went to a restaurant that was close by. We had a great time. We went back to my place and listened to music and talked for a few hours. We made out a little bit and I sent him on his way. We had several other dates. As I got to know Paul, I heard about his life. He was in and out of foster care his whole life. His mother was bi-polar and had drug issues. She named him Paul after Paul McCartney. He had awful stories of foster care. It was heartbreaking. When he was 16 he was placed in foster care with a very religious family. It ended up that the couple became his "parents". They could not legally adopt him since his birth mother was in and out of his life. Paul told me he would keep his suitcase packed for the first 6 months he lived in their house. The woman (she later became who he calls Mom) would unpack his things while he was at school. Each night he would pack his things again. He was so sure this home was not permanent. Heartbreaking. Super long story short, he grew to trust the family. He also began to go to church with them. 

Okay, fast forward to Paul (25) and me (28). He was gung ho to "do it". So we did. Over and over. It was his favorite thing to do. At that time, I was working the weekend program. I would work 2 twelve hour shifts on Saturday and Sunday  and get paid for 36 hours. It was the same 7 nurses both days from 7 am to 7pm. We were a really close group. There is something about coding patients the minute you walk in the door and dealing with death that brings you together. I was the youngest in a group of all married women. They lived vicariously through me and my dating stories. One Saturday night Paul and I did it 7 times. It was crazy. I told him I needed a break and I had to work the next day! I told my co-workers during lunch. They were dying. The next week I went on a trip (I think it was to the Outer Banks). When I returned to work the following Saturday there was a homemade banner in the locker room that read "Welcome Back 7 Times Penelope!!!" I died laughing as I changed into my scrubs. I worked at a teaching hospital. One of the fellows from Pakistan said to me in a thick accent, "So Penelope, what is this 7 Times?" Marsha (the banner ringleader) was standing behind him cracking up. I took a deep breath and told him it has to do with a training program I was in for a marathon (I used to run, but there was no marathon in my future). He walked away and I pinched Marsha as she cackled. Marsha referred to Paul as The Christian. They made Mary Magdalene jokes about me.

Let me get to my point--Paul had that very religious upbringing. He would love to "do it", but he would always have guilt after. He was so conflicted. It got to be very challenging and I told him I couldn't do it anymore. There was one night that he literally started his guilt talk before he was (how do I say it diplomatically...) separated from me. I quickly got up and put on my clothes and told him it was not  going to work. The next day I told my married co-workers. They roared with laughter as I told them, "I pushed him off me, I got up, put on my thongs and left". My stories were a source of great humor.

I would work during the week to get extra hours and to go into overtime for extra cash. I have always been a Capitalist. There was a new nurse, Michelle, that one of my friends (Betty) was training. One day Michelle tells Betty that she is dating a guy named Paul. She gets tears in her eyes as she tells Betty that Paul saw her schedule with my name on the calendar. He told her we dated and apparently shared the fact that we had slept together. Michelle cried to Betty that she couldn't understand that he had slept with someone before marriage (she was very religious and had definite opinions about sex before marriage). She told Betty how they prayed about the fact that he was not a virgin (Dear Readers, he wasn't a virgin when I got to him either). Michelle failed to do her background work and missed that Betty was my best friend. She also started flapping her jaw to other nurses that were my friends. I'd had it. I looked at the schedule and saw we would be on the same shift. We had morning report in a conference room. I stared at her across the table. After things calmed down in the morning, I found Michelle and asked her to come with me to the lounge. We sat down at the table. I told her I understood that she was dating Paul and I confirmed that I, too, had "dated" Paul. I told her that I had many friends and I was really disappointed to hear that she had been discussing my sex life with them. I told her she made a big mistake in opening her mouth and that she needed to focus on patient care instead of my personal life. She sat there speechless. When I finished she told me she was sorry. I just got up and walked away. Luckily, I didn't have to work with her much. It wasn't that long before she put in her notice and quit. 

I have not thought of that guy in YEARS. He was a mere blip on the Penelope screen of AssClowns. So today I find out that JCH is somehow connected to him via linkedin. Hilarious. I looked Paul up the web. He is a partner in a local law firm. He is still handsome in a clean, cut lawyer kind of way. (One time I called him a lawyer and he said, "Penelope, I'm an attorney).  Sidebar: I told Phil K (Bulldog divorce attorney) that quote. He laughed and said, "I don't give a shit what you call me and as long as you pay me." LOVE PHIL! The website for Paul's firm also had a personal section in his bio. It said he had 5 children with his wife Michelle. I laughed out loud. 

I looked at his picture and realized I had forgotten what he looked like. If he was sitting at a table in the same restaurant as me, I wouldn't recognize him. I doubt he goes to restaurants if he has 5 kids. I look at the title of the post and wonder if Paul meets the criteria to be a member of the AssClown Clan™. Probably not. He was a guy with a horrible childhood doing the best he could. I still like the title of this post and I try to find ways to use AssClown any way I can.

I may have to retract that last statement. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet I found that Paul is on Twitter. I read his tweets. It was all about working out, the Gators, his kids, and religion. He never mentions his wife. Yuck. He may be an AssClown....