Have Poloroid, Will Travel.
Miss Kathy keeps prompting me to continue my saga, so I will.

Thanksgiving comes and goes. Soon, it's Christmas. Now, every Christmas and Easter the Catholic Church holds big confession round-ups where you have a communal service, then you can see one of a half-dozen priests for an individual confession. (As an aside, I know people have had bad experiences with the Catholic Church. I respect that. That just hasn't been my experience. Call me lucky.)

Anyway, I attend one of these round-ups. When it ends, I get in line for an individual session. I wind up with a palsied, 80-year old guy whom I talk to face to face (you can also choose the old-fashioned hidden screen way, but I say if you're going to face things, face them all the way.) I spill out all the sordid details of my brief marriage, sparing the poor old guy nothing. His shaking increases. When I finally finish, he says, "Your penance is to thank God you're out of that bad situation. And start your annulment as soon as possible."

So I do. I get the paperwork from the diocese. One piece of information they need is First Husband's (formerly known as TEO in earlier posts) social security number. Hmmm. I don't have it. So my lawyer (oh, how wonderful that man was) tells First Husband he has to vacate the former marital abode while I search for the information I need.

Of course, when I get there I search for signs of First Husband's deviant behavior as well. I find nothing out of the ordinary (stacks and stacks of pornography and tubes of lube and such were ordinary for him.) And, he had changed the password on his computer (that's how I busted him in the first place, but that's a story for another time.) So, I give that up and go to the box where the tax information is kept. I open it and find a brown paper bag in addition to the tax records. The bag contains a box of condoms (his first sign of intelligence) and about 5 Poloroids of what appeared to be Joey Ramone in drag. In various stages of undress. In what presumably were meant to be erotic poses. I laugh my ass off.
Joey Ramone
Then, I get pissed. Earlier, when I informed First Husband I was leaving him, he wanted to stay together. His chats with men were just curiosity, he said (I had proof to the contrary, but he didn't know that at the time). He wanted to stay married. This new, irrefutable evidence infuriates me, because now I know he was willing to sacrifice MY future and MY happiness just to appear "normal" to his family and coworkers. So, I take one of the pictures, just one, so he could always wonder "Did I have 4 or did I have 5?" I choose the one with Joey Ramone bent over a chair in ladies' underwear. And I leave with all the information I need.

I call my lawyer the next day to ask if he wants the picture for further evidence. He says no, with what I think may have been a shudder. My sister puts the picture in a sealed envelope in her file cabinet, where it stays to this day.

The annulment goes through with flying colors. My friends and family get to put their fondest memories of First Husband down on paper for the diocese. I get closure. First Husband gets nothing but further embarassment. All in all, a most satisfying ending.
Name: Übermilf
Location: Chicago Area

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