Strange Classrooms….. and not, desperately seeking Susan

Matic Dance 1982

Matic Dance 1982

My long suffering friend, Gordon picked me up outside the seedy Kempton Park hotel, where I had spent the last week, drinking and thinking. How I ended up there is another full story on its own. As usual Gordon offered no criticism, just help. I updated him on the events that led up to my present position leaving out no detail, not even the ones that proved I am an asshole.

At Gordon’s studio I took out the mattress and set up a small living space at the rear of the large open room. As I was just coming off a week long mission I was tired and hungry, Gordon made us some food and I slept straight after eating. The next morning I sat on the roof of the building trying to think of what to do next. These broken promises and the lies the people in the save the rhino business were doing me no good. I had to find another way to make some money. My British lady was calling less and less frequently, I believe she too was sick of the business. I did not lie to her either about my missions, but this did not make her any happier about them. I was still active on a lot of the pages and groups that are all over facebook, about the rhino poaching. My article on how the poaching could be stopped was and still is the post that gets the most “hits” and because of this one day a man called me up on the phone. He proposed that I help him set up an effective APU (Anti Poaching Unit); he was very persuasive and confident he could have it up and running in no time. I agreed and we began working on getting things going. Again, there I was doing something that is very time consuming and pays no money.

While doing this I got a message from Susan.

Susan. My girlfriend from schooldays, I had made contact with her for the first time after many years a few months back, we said we should meet for coffee but never did. She was the girl I took to my Matric dance, she was the girl I broke up with because she use to shoot ducks with a shotgun and then the last straw was when she volunteered to join the army. That was not all, with her knowledge, I had been on a blind date with another girl, Tracy, who needed someone to take her to her Matric dance, as Tracy’s boyfriend was in the army and could not make it. Tracy was a very pretty and quiet girl, she had long straight hair hanging to her waist and beautiful brown eyes. At the after party of the dance some serious necking took place, and I knew I would see her again.  I just did not know that I would eventually marry her.

Back to Gordon’s studio. Susan and I agreed to meet for coffee and set a date for one afternoon that week. I gave her the address of Art on Main, near enough for me to walk to and not too far from Susan’s work place. The first thing I thought when Susan walked in to the place that day was, “Shit, she turned from a pretty young girl to a very attractive woman.” I was drinking beer and Susan was the one that had coffee, the afternoon sped by, Susan did not have to go back to work, but she did have a husband to go home to. I heard a lot about him that afternoon. According to Susan the marriage was a farce, her and Glen lived separate lives, barely talking to each other. Susan told me she had decided to tell him she wanted a divorce. Glen does not work, he has an income from some business that Susan does not know much about, he sits around talking on his Ham Radio and drinking, he is an ex- Recce and she says he has “issues.” Now anyone can see that I should have had the meeting with the old girlfriend and then left it well alone. Instead I allowed Susan to give me a very none “old friend” type kiss goodbye and arrangements to see her on the weekend. I went back to the studio, stopping first at the Bottle Store, to buy not beer, but my old nemesis, cheap vodka. That night I spoke to Susan on the internet chat for a long time.

Susan arrived on Saturday morning with a picnic basket, I had mentioned that living in amongst all the concrete was driving me crazy. I had a half a bottle of vodka left.  I have very few rules in my life, as I believe that principles are far more important. One of these rules is derived from my principles, I do not mess about with married women. I asked Susan about the fact that she had come to see me, and what had she told her husband. She told me that they really do not talk and she told him nothing, and when she gets back he will not even ask her where she had been. We found a park and lay on the grass talking, Susan eating and me taking sips from my vodka bottle and smoking. Susan moved closer and started running her hand over my face and my chest. I pulled her on top off me and kissed her, my own hands running freely over her body. Hell, I really, really love women, the sight, the smell, the feel. We packed up and returned to the studio and I more than just broke my rule. Later that evening Susan told me she had to go and she would see me tomorrow. I was left alone with my thoughts and a new bottle of vodka that had somehow appeared. Sunday morning and Susan arrived, she called me from downstairs, I went to go and fetch her. She had a different car, as she works for a big car rental place they give her all the new cars to try out. I apprehensively asked her, after greeting her with a long lingering kiss, and yes, my hand roaming around het soft body, if she had any “problems” at home. She said she had already told me, Glen cares not what she does, he just said ‘Hello: and went back to his whiskey and radios. I left it at that. Gordon and his employee were not about so Susan and I spent the day running around naked. Except when we went up to the roof of the building for some fresh air. …

Monday, Susan called from her work place and asked if she could come over at lunch time. Of course. Honest, the chap that works at the studio, goes out for lunch so Susan and I have the place to ourselves. Susan wears expensive perfume and smart clothes to work and looks very sexy. When she left she looked sexier than ever with that look women have when the have just made wild passionate love. Just makes a man want to rip their clothes off all over again. Eish, she had to go work. That week Susan came every lunch time. (pun intended), but we wanted more. Since this Glen oke was seemingly so disinterested it was possible for Susan to get away for a whole weekend. I was keen but already something, something was making me edgy, apart from the fact that sneaking around is just not in my nature. I asked her repeatedly if Glen did not suspect, it was the only dark shadow caste on what was a nice thing. She repeatedly told me he did not care, and she would tell him she wants a divorce soon. She had a son and felt that she would rather let him complete his current exams before she let it be known that she wants to leave his father. Sounded reasonable so I agreed.

We booked a guest cottage in Heidelberg and arrived on Saturday morning, in the rain. This did not bother us at all. We did not venture out or even switch on the TV. Susan is a very touchy type of girl and she would constantly run her hands all over me while we talked, for which I have no complaints. Sunday afternoon reality set in, Susan cried on the way back to Johannesburg, and told me she will tell Glen that night that she wants out. She asked me some questions about my Gypsy ways. Since she sees me in facebook she wanted to know why I was interested and getting involved with her. She was not my “body type”, her words, and I seem to always be with much younger women. Hard questions to answer,  “I don’t know, and I just like you.”,  are inadequate. The reason  I was I did not want to think about too much, I do not do the feelings thing to well, so I just kill those thoughts with more vodka. I was in trouble. I had my long term, nearly 3 years on/off on again affair with Shanti, whom I liked well enough. But she did not get closed as this. That and the fact that Glen was hanging like a sword of Damocles above my head, I did not believe Susan that he would be glad to see her go. I listened carefully about all she said about the man and the conclusion was not good. On that trip back we spoke about the harsher things of the situation, and where we thought it was going. Susan from her side told me she loved me and would do anything to be with me. I told her the same thing I told Shanti, not to leave her spouse because of me, to leave because she wanted change, not necessary with me included. We agreed to that and the fact that Susan would get a place on her own. A sad goodbye when she dropped me at the studio.

Monday morning, Susan came around, breaking the routine. She was not in a good way, as Glen did not react at all the way she though he would. He refused to give her a divorce and promised to cut his drinking down and spend more time with her. Susan stuck to her guns and it got ugly. There was little I could do or say, so I just held her in my arms for a while. For the rest of the week Susan came to the studio, but it was now different, as I knew it would be. Susan told me that now Glen was asking where and what questions, which he had not done for the last 10 years. I asked if she had mentioned me at all. She replied in the negative. I told her, “He knows.” I could feel it and his actions later proved me right. Susan would just arrive and he would phone, something he seldom did before. Then he turned up to visit her at her work place at lunch time, something he had never, ever done before. She had to lie and say she was at the shop, and rushed back to work. I was getting unhappier by the minute. I told Susan that I think she should just come clean and tell him about me. She did, sort off. She told him she was seeing me but just as a friend. I watched on my cyber stuff how he started stalking me, I can see on my one programs who is looking for Wayne Bisset, he found my Mexican stuff. He was very quiet about it. At home he started bring Susan flowers, cleaning up after himself and generally trying to win his wife back. I was getting unhappier and unhappier.

This went on for a whole month. Susan broke the pattern of our lunch time tryst and would come everyday but at different times. Honest, Gordon’s employee, would take lunch as soon as Susan arrived. Invariably Glen would phone. I was wondering if this ex-Recce boy had better six sense than my own or he was following Susan. I sat on the roof when Susan was due with my binocs and watched for his car, not seeing that I watched to see ANY car that followed or was parked around when she came. Nothing. This was becoming a huge fuck up, the Gypsy was getting ready to leave, but something happened that caught me totally unawares, I put it down to one of my strange lessons in my Strange Classrooms

Susan’s visits became less frequent, as now Glen was watching her like a hawk, we still met during the week but weekends were more difficult. The problem is even with the difficulties we were getting more and more attracted to each other, hell, I was considering giving up my Gypsy ways and getting a ‘real” job. Susan had agreed to go to marriage counseling with Glen, but told me she told the councilor that it was over, she just came because she wanted the councilor to impress this on Glen. I believed her. Then one Sunday Susan told me that Glen was taking her to see “The Phantom of The Opera.” That evening. He had already bought her flowers and chocolate. We made arrangements that she would come to the studio early on Monday morning. That night, unusually, I did not find her any where on the net. I could not phone her for obvious reasons. By 9am Monday morning I did phone her. She said she was not coming and would send me a mail. I waited for the mail.

The mail was not a very long mail, but the content was a total mind fuck.

Glen wined and dined Susan, took her to the opera but when they got home confronted her with the fact that she was having an affair with me. He told her I was feeding him information about every time we met and exactly what we had done. I mailed back, as Susan did not answer her phone, that he was speaking absolute bullshit, why would I do that. The reply was that he had evidence that he showed her, messages on his phone from me! I did not even know the man’s cell number, why should I? But Susan said the messages were sent from my phone. I know how to send a message from a computer and fill in any phone number I wish, and told Susan that this is what Glen must have done. He got my number off of her Blackberry or one of my sites and the rest is easy. Susan mailed me back, he did not only have that evidence but knew of things in great detail that we did and exactly what we had said to each other. The time and the place when these things happened; knew more than I could ever remember, so Susan was sure it could only be me that told him. I calmed down and thought about this, he must have had a bug, a listening device, planted somewhere. My first thought was shoes, for some unknown reason, but Susan wore different shoes, it could not have been in the car, Susan did not always have her handbag with her. The only thing was the fucking Blackberry. I recall that she said that it did not work for a day or two, months earlier and then just came right. I got in touch with one of my friends that specializes in the spying business. He found this all very amusing, in his circles it is a well known fact that a Blackberry can be made into a bug very easily; he told me that the American Secret Service does not allow their charges to have the things.

I mailed all this information back to Susan, she did not reply, I looked for her on facebook and saw that she had banned me, she would not pick up her phone. I went and got a bottle of vodka and sat on the roof, when that was finished I bought more. I thought about this man named Glen, I think he is one sick bastard, to listen and record, take notes of your wife having sex with another man for more than a month!? Then, become a Prince Charming only to slam the trap shut with some very convincing lies. Sick sick sick.

I wrote to Susan again, she had the evidence before her, I even got the technical details of how to transform the Blackberry into a bug, and I also asked her what reason would I have to do such a thing, shoot myself in the foot? I received no reply then or since. I stayed at the studio for a while and then got the job to look after my Pair of Pastors, which makes up another story for another time.

Susan in 2012

Susan in 2012

For earlier Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief see the pages on

One Man’s Opinion.

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