The Long, Sad, Bad but True BougieTale of PsychoMike, part 2

Again, this post is long. I would split it again but ya'll raised such a ruckus over having to wait for part two that I just rolled on. Here we go...

When last we visited the BougieTale of PsychoMike, Mike's "performance issues" coupled with the reappearance of Gene have raised concerns that my fairy tale path to Becoming Mrs. Bougenificent was in danger. Let's continue…

Gene (ever the slickster) invited me and Mike over the Pro Bowl in Hawaii. Mike was not stupid; he knew something was in the air even if he wasn't sure what. The month prior to our Hawaii trip was tense and went ballistic one Sunday afternoon as I stood in the hallway of the house I shared with my two roommates. We had three separate phone lines and roomie 2's answering machine had just picked up. To my surprise it was Mike. My Mike asking her why she hadn't returned his calls and if she wanted him to cancel his trip to Hawaii with me. I confronted roomie 1 and 2 (as my inner Shaquonda came out), "How long has THIS been going on?!" Roomie 2 broke down crying and said she never encouraged him, he just started calling and wouldn't leave her alone. I believed her because I've known her since age 12 and let's face it; Mike had a history of changing lanes with roommates.

I headed over to Mike's place livid. When he let me in, he knew from my expression that I knew what he had been up to. In true player fashion, he flipped the script and made it about me. Ever since I ran into Gene I was different, he told me. He felt that I was pulling away and not as committed to the relationship so he retaliated in a way he knew would get my attention. You know, just typing this I'm so angry with my younger self for falling for that bullshiggity. But fall I did… even apologized to him for getting distracted and not giving him enough time and "personal attention". We decided that this trip to Hawaii would be our re-commitment to each other and the relationship.

We drove over to my parents' house the morning of our departure and I couldn't shake the feeling that I should just call the whole thing off. We left his car out front and climbed into my dad's Caddy for the short ride to the airport. BougieDad peppered Mike with questions, "You do how to treat a lady, don't you? You do know this is my youngest daughter, right? You do understand what will happen to you if she does not come back exactly as she is today, right?" Again, in hindsight – big ups to BougieDad. What father wants to drive their daughter and boyfriend to the airport for them to do God knows what thousands of miles away? At the airport, Mike was tart. Whether it was all of the warnings ringing in his ears or what, I didn't know.

As we slid into our first class seats, we both motioned for the attendant to leave the champagne bottle with us. FYI: It's an 8-hour flight to Hawaii from DFW, ya'll. Do you know how much champagne you can consume in eight hours? Getting to Hawaii completely blitzed was probably for the best. The man with a seven-figure income had booked us into one of the cheapest, most rinky-dink hotels in Waikiki. I didn't even know it was possible to have a hotel across from the beach and not see hint of ocean. He also booked us into a room with twin beds. Ooo-kay. That set the tone for the trip. I completely understood when he walked me to McDonald's for dinner and said, "Did you bring some money with you?" that this trip was not our re-commitment but my punishment for Gene.

I was pissed. And not without a devious mind of my own. [If this was a movie, you could cue the dramatic music] The next morning, Mike arose and asked me if I would like to go with him to the zoo. No offense to those of you who are, but I'm not a zoo person. And I definitely did not fly to Paradise to go to the zoo. I declined. He departed and I went to the beach with suntan oil and books. That afternoon he came back with stories of the great restaurant he had eaten at and asked did I want to go hike Diamondhead. Since I was dressed in cute sundress with sexy sandals, I snapped the obvious, "Do I look like I want to hike?" He shrugged and left.

Enough was enough. I paged Gene. (yes, this was pre-texting days, folks) He scooped me up and took me on a driving tour of the island in a convertible with the top down and music playing. He took me to Pearl Harbor (every American should go at least once) and then out to eat. When he dropped me off at the hotel, it was early evening. Mike was in the room pacing. "Where have you been?" "Sight-seeing," I responded with a smile, "I took a guided tour." "Well, get dressed, we're going out to dinner." I showered, changed and got dressed up thinking we were back on track. He walked me down the street to the Denny's. Come on, ya'll. I'm not a snob but Denny's? In Hawaii? "For real tho?" I asked him. He just looked at me.

I was done. I turned around and walked by myself back to the hotel. I ate in the hotel dining room and went to bed early. The next morning when I woke up he was in swim gear. "Going scuba diving, are you certified?" I just looked at him. He shrugged and left... again. I didn't even have to page Gene this time; he was down in the lobby when I went in search of breakfast. We headed over to the North Shore for more sightseeing and a little shopping. This time, I didn't even bother to check back in. I got back to the room after dark. I showered and changed. He came in shortly after and headed straight to the shower. While he was in there I wrote a note saying I was going out and wouldn't be back until late. Yup, I bailed.

Here's where the story goes surreal. After drinks and dinner, I headed out with Gene and his posse to a nightspot in Waikiki. Boyz II Men were headlining a party for the players. I distinctly remember being directly in front of the stage getting my jam on when Shawn stopped singing mid-verse. His eyes were huge as he looked behind me. The place went silent and the sounds of a ruckus started up. "I know she's in there shaking her two-timing ass – let me in!" Mike was at the door and they were not letting him in. He wasn't on the guest list and no one knew who he was. I inched backwards out of his line of sight looking all parts of guilty. Boyz II Men were looking right at me cracking the hell up. Not one of my brighter moments. Mike was sent packing, Shawn went back to singing and I danced for another hour and a half. [Is this the part of the story where I should apologize for my behavior?]

Slinking back into my hotel room, I showered and crawled into my little twin size bed. Thirty minutes later I awoke with the feeling that someone was standing over me. Probably because someone was. It was Mike. He had a strange expression on his face as he stood staring down at me. You've heard the expression "dead eyes" – yep, it was that kind of vibe. After what seemed like a very long time, he leaned down and whispered, "I could just choke you in your sleep, you know that don't you?" He smiled, turned and walked back to his bed. WTF?! The minute his head hit the pillow he was back to sleep. I was not. I lay there for another ten minutes and then quietly started tossing necessities into an overnight bag. I didn't even dress. I grabbed some stuff and broke out. No way would I sleep in the same room with PsychoMike. I dressed in the elevator and paged Gene when I got to the lobby. He arranged a room for me at the Pro Bowl hotel and had a limo outside in 10 minutes to take me away (no idea how he did that).

The next morning, he arranged for one of the Pro Bowl Linebackers to escort me back to the hotel to get the rest of my stuff including my airplane ticket home (back in the days of the paper ticket, ya'll). PsychoMike was in the lobby with a picnic basket and a blanket. "So can we have breakfast on the beach and talk for a minute?" He asked. When someone threatens to choke you to death in the middle of the night, what is there to talk about? But in order to facilitate the removal of my plane ticket from his possession, I played along… and brought the linebacker with me.

Long story short, PsychoMike said he didn't remember threatening to kill me in my sleep and I must have dreamed it. He was hoping we could spend the rest of our vacation time re-connecting. Ri-ght. I offered to swap him his Pro Bowl game ticket (which I had) for my plane ticket home (which he had). We agreed. Linebacker helped me pack up my stuff and I didn't see PsychoMike again until we were forced to sit next to each other on the plane ride home. [awkward] BougieDad picked us up from the airport, took one look at our faces and said nary a word. He dropped PsychoMike off at his car and then drove me home. As we pulled up he said, "So that's the last of him, huh?" "Pretty much." I said and went inside.

I wish I could tell you that that was the end of PsychoMike but he and I danced around each other for a while longer in a dysfunctional and strange 'what's in this for me' dance. We were engaged for about 72 hours (I still have the ring… before ya'll jump in - he told me to keep it, and since it's a flawless 3 carats and I truly believe I earned it, it is sitting in my jewelry box to this very day). Then he moved to D.C. and I moved to San Francisco. He came out to San Francisco uninvited and brought his priest so that we could attempt reconciliation. [People you CANNOT make this stuff up]

Somewhere in here, me and former roomie #1 had a massive disagreement and mixed in with all the drama was the story that I had stolen PsychoMike from her the minute her back was turned. I disagreed and said that I had probably done her a huge favor. The last time I saw PsychoMike was 4 years ago at the Tyson's II Galleria in the DC area. I was coming down the escalator from Macy*s and saw him coming into the mall by P.F. Changs. I ducked and dived like a CIA operative and then hid in Ralph Lauren until he went by. I was so paranoid that I ordered my food to go and hotfooted back to my room at the Ritz and did not emerge until morning. To exorcise a demon or two, I did Google him tonight. As I expected, he's super-wealthy and successful. I saw no mention of wife or kids. But I was surprised that he hasn't aged as well as I expected. (Is that catty of me to say?)

Okay, everybody exhale. Now we have the whole tale… Thoughts? Comments? Sympathy? Censure? Lessons learned?