I Make Domestic Violence Funny.

After the physical altercation with (my much older boyfriend) Pepe, that caused me to flee, I drove back from Tucson crying and bruised. I was returning to live with my grandparents entirely unaccomplished after wasting away my entire summer partying and being an all around 21-year-old idiot. It was time for me to get a normal salon job and settle down.

After a week I had found the perfect job, I just needed to set some money aside for an apartment. It didn’t take long for my loneliness to kick in. So, I did what any pathetic, young, stupid girl with no self-worth would do, I called Pepe.

“Hey, Pepe. It’s me. How are things going.”

“Holy shit! I didn’t think I would hear from you again. You do love me!”

“I didn’t think I would call but yes, I guess I do.”

“Wow. I felt really bad about what happened. I didn’t mean to scare you. I wont get that angry again, I just want to be with you.”

That was it, I begged my grandparents to let Pepe move in with us while I saved enough for the apartment. Eventually they gave in and it was off to Tucson to claim my twitchy, eyeliner clad, acne scarred unstable older man.

Pepe had me pick him up at a motel he had rented. I slept there with him overnight. It was dingy and graffiti’d. The inside was crawling with cockroaches. Pepe made love to me with his wormy, warted member. It was uncomfortable and I just wanted to get it over with. Plus I could smell the acne on his face as he kissed me.

We drove back to California that next morning. Pepe dominated the conversation as usual. He could talk non-stop for hours about inane things. Mostly he would repeat the same stories from his past over and over again. I eventually learned how to drown him out.

My Pimple Prince, being 36 without a vehicle, had my grandfather drive him from music store to music store looking for a job. Finally he was offered one in bike riding distance. We were only a few paychecks away from gaining our own place.

Pepe and I went out to the Cantina to celebrate his new job. We stuffed ourselves on happy hour taco’s and $2 Margaritas. We decided to take a night stroll on the beach, after a quick stop at the liquor store, of course.

Hand in hand we walked with our feet in the water. It was a beautiful night, the moon a was full. You could see far out into the tide. Also, in the distance you could hear the grunting of the sea lions.

That’s when it happened.

Pepe dropped my hand, “Oh my God!” He screamed as he went running towards a group of rocks. He began climbing them, then he looked out onto the waves.

“There it is! Do you see it? It’s coming towards us, it’s gonna fucking kill us! We need to go!”

“Huh? What? Get down here, what are you talking about?”

“Look!” Pepe pointed to the water.

I didn’t see anything. Maybe a boat in the distance. Just then another grunt from a sea-lion echoed through the shore.

“Follow me!” He ordered jumping off the rock and running in the direction of the street.

I just stood there confused.

“It’s a fucking sea monster, *****! It’s coming to shore to get us!”

I started laughing, Pepe was hilarious.

He did not like this because he was serious.

“You stupid bitch! Are just going to stand there and be killed or what?”

“Pepe, there is no such thing as sea monsters.”

“It’s a giant octopus! Like in the Popeye movie! I’m out of here.”

Wanting to avoid an argument, I followed Pepe back to my car and drove us home.

We were having dinner with my grandparents the next night when Pepe decided to tell them about our beach adventure. My grandfather, hard of hearing, just smiled and nodded. Grandma pulled me aside after and told me that she thought maybe Pepe had suffered some irreversible brain damage from all the drugs he probably did in his twenties.

As the days passed Pepe and I started apartment hunting.

“The apartment has to be upstairs. Make sure the doors have dead bolts. If it’s not secure people will break in and kill us.” He warned me.

Eventually I found the perfect place, Pepe did the safety inspecting. Though it did not meet his approval, he was ready to get out of my family’s house and into a place he could smoke pot freely. Pepe decided the apartment was good enough as long as he could install an alarm system and double-sided dead bolts.

Living with Crater Face was not fun. He was very jealous and wouldn’t let me go anywhere alone. I wasn’t allowed to have friends over nor talk on the phone. As a matter of fact if a man even looked at me in Pepe’s presence he would start a fight with him. Plus, I was quickly growing bored with Black Head’s same seven stories.

I started to stay late at work. The receptionist and I grew quite a bond and would stay after closing and share a bottles of cheap wine. It was nice having someone to “girl talk” with.

One evening, after such a night, I ventured home relaxed. I made my way into the kitchen and started preparing Pepe’s dinner as usual.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Making dinner. I thought we would have spaghetti.”

“I mean why the hell are you home so late? It’s 6:15 and I know your shop closes at 5:00.”

“Ya, I had a glass of wine with America.”

“You are a fucking liar. You were out with a man. You were fucking some guy, weren’t you?”

Pepe’s eyes were twitching, violently.

“No, you dumb ass! I was having a fucking drink with my friend.”

“You stupid fucking slut! You think I don’t know what you are doing? You think I’m stupid?”

Pepe slapped me across the face, I did not like this. I pulled out a kitchen knife and pointed it at him.

“Get the fuck out, Pepe. You are an insecure asshole.”

Pepe stormed out, I could hear him slam the door. With tears streaming down my face, I continued to cook dinner.

He came back fifteen minutes later stinking like weed.

“I’m sorry,” He said, “were you really with America and not with a man?”

“Yes,” answered.

“I shouldn’t be so jealous. It’s just that I have had girls cheat on me before.”

I made both of us plates of food. I handed Pepe his before having a seat at the table.

“You made this for me?”

“Yes.”

“After what just happened? You still made me dinner?”

“Ya, I was cooking when it happened.”

Pepe set his plate down and pushed it away.

“I’m not eating this! You fucking poisoned it! You are trying to poison me! You think I’m fucking stupid!”

I rolled my eyes and switched him plates. I opened some wine.

Pepe started telling all about his story number 4.

Once the wine had kicked in I was feeling a little more chatty myself, actually I was feeling kinda flirty. I pushed my little Puss Ball onto the floor and started nibbling his neck. I reached into his pants to feel him getting hard, my finger got stuck for a second on the wart.

“Wanna get some rug burn baby?” I asked him.

“I want to bend you over the couch!”

I giggled, “OK!” before assuming the position. Pepe slapped my ass.

“I bet I’m the first guy to bend you over like this, aren’t I?”

I started laughing, uncontrollably. I told you Pepe was hilarious.

“Ya, OK, Pepe!”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Pepe went soft.

“Why is that funny? You think it’s funny that you were a giant whore before you met me? You think I want to date some tramp who’s fucked everyone in town?”

“You are stupid, you knew what I was before you committed.”

“NO, I had no idea what a slut you were.”

With that Pepe knocked me to the floor. I got up and shoved him. Pepe did not like this. He threw an ashtray at me, then shoved me back down. He put his knees on my shoulders and grabbed me by the cheeks. He began slamming my head onto the ground. My head was making a loud thump, my brain was bouncing around like a ping-pong ball. I twisted my body and kicked my legs but I couldn’t get away so, I started screaming,

“Help! Someone help me! Call 911! He’s gonna kill me!”

Pepe put his hand over my mouth. I bit him.

That’s all I remember.

When I came to the police were there, Pepe was already in the squad car and I was being presented with papers.

“Mam, are you OK? Do you want to press charges?”

“Yes,” I said, as I signed the paperwork.

I didn’t see Pepe again until a week later when he came to retrieve his belongings.