Losing the House but Winning Mom 01

Now with laws passed against them by those so called public servants that they voted in to supposedly serve the people, they seemingly only served themselves and the top one percent of voters. Their representatives in Congress and in the House of Representatives turned their backs on the rest of the population for greed, for money, for power, and for influence. Other than small segments broadcasted on the nightly news and those forgotten articles written in yesterday's newspapers, no one cared that much of the middleclass were unemployed, underemployed, homeless, and disenfranchised.

Even when the President of the United States gave his speeches to declare his outrage, with him powerless to get anything done in Congress, it was nothing more than lip service. It was nothing more than grandstanding that he was for the people, of the people, and with the people when he was bought and paid for like every other public servant. Already beholden to the rich, influential, and powerful, Congress had their priorities and it wasn't the middleclass they were publically serving.

* * * * *

With Michael learning early what most people never know, whenever politicians were talking, they were lying. The bottom line was, no matter how outrageous and obvious this act of greed and power was, no one went to jail. No one was arrested. No one was even charged for the financial meltdown.

Why would they be? Why should they be? The faction of good old boys all made money, lots and lots of money. As long as those players were paid for taking advantage of the hardworking middleclass, nothing personal, it was business as usual.

It was nothing personal when Americans lost their jobs. It was nothing personal when Americans lost their house. It was nothing personal when Americans had their 401K's flushed down the toilet and their retirement savings gone. It was nothing personal when Americans had no health insurance and were burdened for the rest of your miserable lives to payback student loans for college degrees that couldn't get them a good paying, full-time job, with benefits. It was nothing personal when banks hounded everyone to accept credit cards debt that they couldn't afford. It was nothing personal that the average American now had no savings, no future, and no hope other than hoping to win the lottery. Good luck with that. The odds are against you as the lottery is more rigged than a crooked slot machine in a mob run casino.

Yet with everything happening for a reason, with every dog having its day, and with every cloud having a silver lining, Michael was comforted by clichés. His mother professed a million of them learned from her grandmother who learned them from her grandmother before her. With them having little money and now no home, he had nothing but his clichés to maintain his positive attitude, his sense of self, and his sense of family. No doubt, for clichés to be overused phrases, and with them having been used at the right time and in the right place, the clichés must all be true and effective in summing up things that begged a definition.

'Thank God for clichés,' he thought to himself.

He had nothing else but clichés to stop him from going ape shit crazy, to grab a gun, and to kill those dirty bitches and filthy bastards at the bank he felt were responsible for them losing their home. Only, bank managers, loan officers, and tellers weren't the villains. Like everyone else, they were just doing their jobs. Unable to target and shoot the real criminals, those powerful men at the top and those who were truly responsible for taking their home, they were hidden behind their mansion walls and protected by those soulless lawyers who graduated from Harvard and from Yale. An old boys' club that still exists today, no one, not gangbangers, not drug lords, and not foreign governments could ever get the better of those mighty men who graduated with law degrees to go into public service, banking, and/or international finance. In the way that sitting judges and congressmen and congresswoman are, they are all above the law that they are sworn to uphold and to protect.

Earning their law degrees, their licenses to legally steal, with Jennifer and Michael totally defenseless, there was nothing that he and his mother could do. There was nothing that anyone could do but to drop their drawers, bend over, and grin and bear while being fucked up the asses by these thieving cocksuckers. The American middleclass as a whole, whether losing their jobs, having their unions busted, having their 401K's dissipated, or being forced out of their homes, were all fucked up the asses by the billionaire, big, Wall Street players.

With their dirty deals done behind closed, boardroom doors, the average person wouldn't hear the real story of what happened for years. On the bad side, their new reality, they were homeless. On the good side, a positive benefit to losing their home, no longer having to pay for their interest inflated mortgage, they were free. Cash strapped before, they were flush with money now. Yet, even though these assholes who ruined the economy and who ruined the equality and quality of life for most average folks, no one went to jail. No one was arrested. No one was even charged. Unbelievable. Go figure.

Those bank robbers who hold up a bank at gun point and get nothing more than a few thousand dollars are doomed to spend ten years or more behind bars. Yet, accountants, lawyers, stock brokers, bankers, and politicians who routinely steal billions of dollars don't see a day behind bars. Where's the justice in this country? Politicians point to Mexico, Russian, China, Cuba, and Iran as the worst places in the world to live, yet, the United States of America leads the list as the worst place for the average American to earn a living and to live the American dream.

God bless America my ass. There is no God and if there was a God, he should never bless America just as he should never bless a priest who abuses children and Bishops, Cardinals, and the Pope who don't do anything about the atrocities. Dante Alighieri had it right when he wrote, Dante's Inferno more than 700 years ago. Indeed, with Vatican City, the city of Gold and the richest city in the world made from the backs of the poor, the Popes, the Cardinals, and the Bishops all belong in the 9th circle of Hell when they die. The only good people in the Catholic Church who should not burn in eternity are the nuns who live their lives in obscurity and poverty while helping the poor and the sick.

Now that the bank took their house, the pressure was off them to come up with the big, balloon payment money every month for a house they couldn't afford to keep and for a house that continued to fall in value. With their house gone, their credit ruined, and their lives in shambles, starting all over again, once they get back on their feet, they'll find an apartment. This motel room was nothing more than a temporary roof over their heads with a door to protect them those who lurked in the darkness. This motel room was only temporary accommodations to keep them dry from the rain, sound from the wind, warm the cold, and safe from those wanting to do them harm. Now freeing up their monthly budget, at least they had enough money to afford this room until they found better accommodations and something closer to work. If Michael could find a place nearer work, he could walk to work and leave his mother the truck.

* * * * *

"Trick or treat," there were still more kids knocking at their door and hoping for candy. A barrage of children dressed in Halloween costumes knocked at their motel room door every few seconds. "Trick or treat."

Michael looked at his watch. It was only 7 pm. He couldn't wait until all the kids went home to eat their candy before going to bed on a sugar high.

Not opening the door, ignoring kids still walking by and knocking, Michael opened the closet and pulled out the extra blanket. He smelled it. It smelled musty. Giving his mother the bed, he planned on sleeping in the chair.

He put the blanket by the chair and moved the chair closer to the bed so that he could at least put his feet up on the bed and stretch out his legs more to be somewhat more comfortable. Sleeping in the chair, even though he sexually fantasized of sleeping with his mother, would afford his mother the modesty she deserved and give his mother the privacy she needed. Sleeping in the chair would be better than sleeping on the floor. God knows what creepy crawlers would crawl on him during the night.

Not afraid of bugs but he didn't want to be bitten by a spider again, especially if he could help it. Having been bitten by enough spiders during his job as a pest control worker, with his hands and legs swelling up like a balloon, he had some nasty spider bites before to know how much they can hurt. If he had bug spray, he'd spray all the vents and the doorjamb before going to bed. He'd stop at the hardware store and buy some tomorrow.

"May I have one of your pillows Mother?"

Jennifer looked at him with confusion. She made a face seemingly at his foolishness in sleeping in the chair.

"What are you doing?"

He returned her look of confusion with his look of confusion.

"I'm getting ready for bed," he said while trying to get more comfortable in the small chair in readiness to sleep in the chair rather than in the bed. "I'm tired, achy, and sore from loading and unloading the truck. It's been a long, emotional, nerve wracking day," he said letting out a big sigh along with a big yawn. "I don't know which took more of a toll on me, the physical labor of moving all of that furniture or the emotional drain of losing our home," he said looking at his mother.

In the way she looked at the Sheriff evicting her, Jennifer looked at her son with steadfast determination, motherly love, and incestuous desire. Someone who usually got her way, she was a strong willed woman. Never afraid, not backing down from a fight, or unprepared for a challenge, Michael could only imagine what she'd be like in bed. Indeed, imagining her to be a spirited lover, she'd be quite the wild cat. Only, unable to experience his mother sexually, he'd never know what she was like sexually in bed.

"Physically and emotionally, the combination of both is what drained you," said his mother. "But you can't sleep in a chair honey," she said with a nervous laugh while looking at him as if he was insane. She looked at him in the way he looked at her. She looked at him as if she was suddenly horny. She paused in her thoughts of what she was about to say next to look at him while biting her lip before blurting out her words. "You'll sleep in the bed with me," she said giving him an inviting smile, a sexy albeit naughty look, and hitting the bed with her open hand.

To be continued...

Please vote. Please give me the support of your vote.