Saturday Skinny Stoner Saga – the story of G

Because one person asked me to do it By popular demand, here’s another installment in the Saga of G, my oldest sister’s second husband.

Previously we learned that G revealed his interest in wearing his mothers clothing to my sister, S, about a week after they were married.  Rather than face another failed marriage, S, decided to stick it out.  Intrepid readers asked “if that didn’t get her out of the marriage, then what finally did?”

We’re not sure what really drove her to file the paperwork.  It was at least partially due the advice of her baby sister, who pointed out that if he got arrested for dealing weed out of the house, the local authorities could confiscate everything she owned – you know, one of those “it’s not violating the constitution  if we take away the rights of bad people” laws…

After the divorce, G went downhill quickly.  We learned that he was arrested for stealing angel figurines from graveyards.   Things escalated, and later that year learned that he was a fugitive from the law! [dramatic music goes here] Attempted Bank Robbery!

G had pulled up to the drive-through window at a bank, and tried to withdraw funds from his checking account.  He was in a van, with an inflatable doll on the front seat.   Strapped in with a seatbelt.   Safety first, i suppose… if his date suffered an inadvertent puncture wound it could have been a safety hazard with her flying wildly through his field of view!

When the cashier said there was no money in his account, he held up a squirt gun and said “well, how about giving me some money anyway”…. and then sat there and chatted politely with her until the police arrived. 

Months later, when it was time for his court date, he failed to show.  We were stunned, shocked and totally amazed at this behavior, of course, as he’d demonstrated such a fine grasp of reality up to this point!

He was believed to be living in a rural area with a friend.  The next breaking news story? He wandered off – “went missing”, as they say around these parts.   What struck me as odd about this?  [OK, there was a lot that struck me as odd about this…].  In the local newspapers, on the evening news, there was much fanfare about the “search for the missing fugitive”.  If the fucking cops couldn’t find him when he WASN’T missing, so why did they think they’d have better luck AFTER he went missing?

But i digress…

It was quite the circus, with homicide detectives quizzing his roommate, tons of press coverage – my sister, S, her daughter, DQ and the rest of the park were giddy from the drama!  G’s van was found in the woods, his wallet on the seat.  The only things missing?  [more ominious music here]  His shotgun and his dog…

As if the cross-dressing, bank-robbing, inflate-a-date toting wasn’t enough, the plot thickened…

About a month after the disappearance, the roommate found a tennis shoe while looking for clues in the woods… it had fallen from above, from G’s dead foot, which was still attached to the rest of him, which was also dead.  His body was in a deer stand. (similar to this kind)  G had not only shot himself, but shot his poor dog, too. 

Now, picture this scrawny biker dude, climbing the ladder to a deer stand in a tree, carrying a shotgun and a dog.   And no, unfortunately, he was not wearing his mothers silky undergarments at the time.

As always, though, there is a darker side.   The genuinely sad post-script?  He left a suicide note – addressed it to his 30 year old daughter (a sweet kid who got out of that shit-hole environment).  It basically said “happy fathers day, hope you’re fucking happy now…”.  Bastard.

It’s all a mystery to me, man…. From the “making the best of a bad situation” file?  My two children aren’t phased by much of anything.  They’ve pretty much seen it all… and have learned to laugh through it.

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16 thoughts on “Saturday Skinny Stoner Saga – the story of G

  1. Holy shit! I really can’t say what is most astonishing about that story, although stealing graveyard angels (!) seems to beat his earlier cross-dressing by a good mile. The manner of his death definitely loses most of its humor because of the horrible note he left behind. Something about the fact that he was your sister’s SECOND husband tickles something in the darker regions of psyche, too.

    Remind me to tell you sometime about my juvenile delinquent cousin who later became a small town Ohio cop…

  2. Mark – “Holy Shit”. Nicely put – that’s generally the reaction when i tell this tale… I don’t know if this is a widespread phenomena, but in many parts of the US, people leave trinkets and tokens on the headstones of loved ones – and G for some reason targeted the angels. Guess we’ll never know. Shame he didn’t get old so i could send him to the Gimcrack!

    nm – We are a country of large, slow-moving people who don’t like to leave our cars. Yes – unlike drive-up ATMs, the drive-through teller windows have pneumatic tubes. You put your check, account number, photo ID in the tube, ship it into the bank, and they send receipts out with a cheery “Have a Nice Day” through the speaker. I’ve done it before – and they’ll even send along a dog biscuit to Mr. Pickles if he’s in the car with me.

    az – just depressing. i debated as to whether to include the dark part of the story – without all that, it’s a ridiculously funny tale (ok, WITH it, it’s still a rather hysterical story). But this is a key part of life in The Park. Pure laughter is rare – it’s somehow always tainted. I am trying hard to write about something truly uplifting… may take awhile!

  3. i only just found you blog yesterday,, and i cannot even remember who’s post it was that lead me here… but i have to tell you this is some greats hit… i already have you in my reader,, and i am looking forward to reading back and catching up on this stuff……

  4. Humor and horror, closely intertwined, seem to be our “normal” reaction to tales of dementia. Perhaps laughter is partly a mechanism of self-protection. Whatever, your tale proves once again that truth is stranger than fiction.

  5. I’ve always said…and this proves the point…”Who needs soap operas when you have real life?” {shaking my head}

  6. paisley – welcome to The Park. The people are goofy, but kind…oh, never forget they’re heavily armed. Took a quick look at your work and was mesmerized – i’m looking forward to wandering through. You’ve been at it a bit longer, though – i’ve only been out here for 3 weeks.

    Mark – laughter has been my salvation on too many occasions to count! unfortunately, others don’t always understand that it’s how i deal with the messy stuff, so i’m often found choking back giggles at the worst possible moments. we all deal with it differently… this was my coping technique.

    wanderer – yeah. too bad you didn’t get to meet this one. he was pretty damn special…

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