In his Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Music Challenge post on Friday, Jim Adams gave us the Allman Brothers Band song “One Way Out” and asked us to use that song as inspiration for our own post.
As Jim explained, the song is about a man having an affair with another man’s woman in an upstairs apartment. He realizes that he is trapped when he hears another man has showed up downstairs. He figures that this is probably her man, so he decides to jump out the window to avoid any confrontation.
This reminded me of a similar “adventure” I had back when I was still a single man and was playing the dating game. I was seeing a woman, Judy, who was separated from her husband, the father of her two-year-old twin boys. She lived with her boys in a small, two bedroom garden apartment in Northern Virginia.
Judy had invited me over one night to watch TV. The twins were asleep in their bedroom, and Judy and I were on her living room couch, let’s just say, getting to know one another a little better. We were interrupted by a knock at her door, and Judy got up and looked through the peephole in the door. She turned to me and said that it was her husband and his mother.
Judy panicked, told me to go into her bedroom and suggested, once she let her husband and his mother in through the front door, that I exit through her bedroom’s window. Her husband was a big, beefy guy, and I was a tall, lanky guy. And like the man in Jim’s song, I wanted to avoid a confrontation. So once I heard her open her front door and let them in, I made my escape.
But there was something neither Judy nor I had anticipated. He brought his mother over to her apartment so she could try to persuade Judy to reconcile with him and to take him back. His plan was to leave the two of them alone to talk. So he dropped his mother off and left. He walked out of the apartment building’s front door at the exact moment that I had just snuck out through Judy’s bedroom window.
Needless to say, bedlam ensued when he spotted me crawling out through his wife’s bedroom window, and before I knew it, this big, beefy guy was pounding the shit out of me.
So thank you, Jim Adams, for triggering, with your post, this long-suppressed, very unpleasant memory.