dysfunction letters

cXnX conpheZZionZ: The Clemente Exile Incident (or "Good Luck With The Police")

3:10:00 PMPaul

If you aren't familiar with the story behind this confession, then we must have just met or I'm still trying to impress you.  Bear with us as we'll try to let the correspondence do the talking.

Perhaps some background is needed...

As objectively as I can recall, I will list the events of September 1, 2009 that led up to this comical explosion.  (Disclaimer- Jill's version of the events may differ):
  • Jill came out to Chicago to help with my first apartment move
  • The discord began as Jill took charge of the packing process and (editorializing here) I believe she thought I was wasting time, coddling Abby and Winnie.
  • On August 30th, Paul called to see if she had done anything noteworthy yet, to which I replied that the trip had been very much like normal people.  Only hours later, Jill threatened to leave, and did.  I called Paul back to admit I had spoken too soon.  She returned I believe an hour later and we patched up and went to sleep.
  • We eventually moved in on September 1st and when we were done, we went out to actually have fun and experience a bit of Chicago.  Sometime beforehand, she had purchased as a surprise housewarming gift a flatscreen tv (fair to note this).
  • At a restaurant (ed.) I believe I suggested, she said she wanted local beer, but then noticed $3 Stella Artois pints (a good deal for an average town, great deal for Chicago).  I unsuccessfully ordered her different beers to sample, which she choked down obligingly at first, but with great disgust/distaste/discord on her face.
  • I went to the bathroom and Jill dumped a pint out the window so she wouldn't have to drink it and so I couldn't.  My date told me this, which caused the already taut tension to erupt into a shouting match using indoor voices.  Jill left while my date and I stayed for one more beer and then headed to the adjacent club/bar, featuring $1 well drinks (always a fair shake)--this is a completely different story.
  • We eventually returned to our apartment, at our leisure (ed.) mostly to make a point that her temper would not disrupt our night.
  • Jill was sitting in the lobby waiting to be taken upstairs.  I believe this time I told her to leave, which she did only to return moments later and demand her "toiletries" [sic].  I refused to let her in and she continued to knock and shout loudly.  Nervous to disrupt the neighbors on our first night, we let her in.  My date was in the bathroom and after further arguing, Jill marched that way to collect her toiletries.
  • Cued by the timidly shocked expression on my date's face, I charged at Jill and punched her in the back of the head.  She collapsed on the bathroom floor and began to (ed.) moan that she was hurt.  I kept telling her to leave, my date went to bed, and I called the police to have a noncompliant sister escorted out.  While the operator was asking me if I had been drinking (to which I said yes, but it doesn't change the fact that there's someone here who won't leave), Jill exited of her own accord with a look of abject horror on her face.
  • The Police arrived and knocked on the door until they woke me up.  "Police," they said.  "Shhcako poliees?"  I asked.  And they left.
The only other person present at the time and able to give an unbiased (read: equally incriminating) account of the events is no longer on speaking terms with me (that's a completely different story for another day, by request only)

 As the first email indicates, I had sent my dad a birthday gift although we hadn't spoken since before I moved and I wasn't quite sure where I stood.  This second one is my initial reaction (and probably still would be today) to the email.  Mostly out of filial obligation and partly to test the waters, I sent a token gift and a card.

It took about 24 hours for me to formulate and edit a snappy response.  I think the time invested was worth it, since I planned the entire time for it to be my departing monologue.


Believe it or don't, but this was massively edited and the original was twice as long, although I don't believe a cut of it exists anymore.  Of course you believe that if you're a chuX chaZer. 

Of course Paul was updated on the story every second of the way. 

And if you need a reminder of where this mutual fraternal admiration got us...


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