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From: "Dream Spinner" <authorsix@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} ST: "Jason's Journey Part 10" (bi, true, m/m, m/f)
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Date: Mon, 17 Apr 2006 00:10:04 -0400
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JASON'S JOURNEY

This is a story about the growing up and coming of age of a typical Ohio boy 
by the name of Jason as told to me through the exchange of a series of 
Email.  It is a true story detailing true events with only the names, 
including Jason's, having been changed to protect the travelers we meet 
along the way.  We pick up where we left off in Chapter 9 with 
twenty-two-year-old Jason having spent his last evening with his lover Ryan. 
  Comments about the story can be sent to the author, J.O. Dickingson at 
authorsix@hotmail.com and those who wish to correspond directly with Jason 
may do so at journeyofjason@yahoo.com

CHAPTER TEN: LIFE WITH JASON AT WORK, AT HOME, AND AT SCHOOL

	I've heard it said bad things occur in threes, and they certainly do that 
summer.  Ever since my doctor's warning that my smoking could cause a flare 
up of my Crohn's back in July I'd been making a major effort to quit my one 
or two pack a day habit.  Now I know you'll say that's a good thing, but 
when you've smoked as heavy as I have, it is pure hell trying to cut back, 
never mind quit.  The second of course is breaking up with Ryan and 
realizing just how close our relationship had become, and realizing that 
once again as soon as I started getting intimate with someone I loved 
everything fell apart.  The third, almost as brutal, I quit drinking in 
August.  I just decide one day that I'm not going to do it anymore.  
Besides, I am out of money and can't keep up my habit.  That helps.
	Now believe me, it really is one hell of a time coming down after being 
smashed for almost a year straight.  There had been times when I'd drop over 
$100 a weekend at the local bar on shots of everything from Tequila (big 
mistake) to liquid cocaine (not actually cocaine, unfortunately, but the 
name of a mixed shot that they make at one of the local bars.)  I love the 
stuff.  It is a mixture of 151, Rumplemintz, and Jagermeister.  It has a 
nice mint taste to it and burns like hell the whole way down.  I'd gotten to 
the point where I'd actually say, "just mix me something (insert color 
here)," another big mistake.  I am not a big boy, but I have my tolerance 
built up like you would not believe.  It is great while I am high and 
feeling no pain, but believe me, no matter how many times it happens, you 
never get used to waking up under somebody's bed.  At least in their bed 
wouldn't be quite so bad.
	I start working at Spencer's at the local mall about ten minutes from my 
house later that August, about twenty days after I had been fired from 
Shell.  I am only supposed to be around for ninety days at the most because 
a friend of mine works there and got me the job, and they have a rule that 
friends can't work together for longer than that.  Lucky me, she gets fired 
and I get to stick around.
	Labor Day my ex sister-in-law, who is pregnant by this dork she has begun 
dating, the dork, and my nine-year-old nephew Eric come over for a cookout.  
This guy she is dating is so immature I actually sit and marvel how dumb he 
is.  I can honestly say I have watched kids that were more mature than this 
guy.  We sit at the end of the lot and have a little fire going on the 
cement pad and roast hotdogs and marshmallows.  I have my dog Kookie sitting 
in the chair with me and she and I eat the hotdogs and more or less just 
listen in on the conversation.  Later that night, I am getting cold and Eric 
had gotten into trouble for something and his mom had just sent him in to 
take a bath.  Being a voyeur, of course I take advantage of the situation.  
We have a daybed in the family area right below a window that looks into the 
bathroom.  I mentioned the window before when I was talking about Caroline 
and Chloe staying with us.  The daybed has some bars that are bent in a neat 
pattern and they are sturdy enough and high enough that I can stand on them 
and look right into the bathroom.
	The blinds are not adjusted right, so I run in really quick and ask if I 
can go to the bathroom before he gets in the bath.  I move them just so and 
have a perfect view right in.  I go back around and stand on the bars and 
watch as he takes his pants off, pees, and gets in the bathtub.  I keep 
running back and forth looking at the door making sure no one is coming, and 
looking through the window trying to watch Eric.  I get to see him get out 
of the tub and start drying off, then put his clothes back on.  I head to 
the living room without anybody knowing anything that had happened.  That 
night I add his name to the list of guys I've seen pissing and I have a hot 
jerk off session reliving every second from the moment he began pushing down 
his pants to the moment he dried himself off and started to get dressed.
	I return to Kent that fall to continue working on my degree in accounting 
and Nicole continues with college for her nursing degree.  Five years ago, 
in the summer of 1996, she had gone to China as a missionary for the 
Methodist church for a month and while she was there she'd met a Chinese guy 
from one of the outlying provinces and fell in love with him, and he fell 
just as much in love with her.  They were so in love.  A match made in 
freakin' heaven.  She went back the next summer, and then in 1999 she went 
back for a year.  Then in March of last year they got married.  That was 
when I was having my surgery.  Nicole came home and made arrangements for 
him to follow in a few months.  The moment I met her husband, Chiang, I 
didn't like him.  For one, I am not too fond of foreigners, and especially 
Asians.  To be truthful, the only countries I care for are Great Britain, 
Germany, Canada, and Australia, and the only reason I like Germany is the 
whole Hitler thing.  I don't agree with what he did at all, but you have to 
respect a guy who thinks he can get rid of an entire group of people and 
become supreme ruler of the world.  As far as I'm concerned, everyone else 
can just go to hell.  The other reason I don't like him is that I just 
didn't trust him.  As far as I was concerned, the only reason he'd hooked up 
with Nicole was to get into the United States.  Anyway, when he got here 
they moved into an apartment on the edge of town and all seems to be going 
well for both of them.  He is fluent in English and got a job at a local 
supermarket as a bagger.  He is about five foot ten, around a hundred and 
eighty pounds, all muscle, with short black hair and the typical Chinese 
look except he doesn't have the usual slitted eyes that you normally see.
	On the first day, my schedule says we are to have Astronomy class in one 
room but there is a note on the door that says it is in another room.  We 
sit for about fifteen minutes, the unofficial amount of time we have to give 
a teacher to show up, and then we all leave.  The next day of class, a 
Thursday, I am walking toward the classroom and this guy stops me and says 
that the class is in a different room, the direction he is heading.  So I 
walk along with him and when we get there we sit together and keep talking 
about this and that.  I find out his name is Chad and that he is an 
advertising major.  The next week, the class is moved yet again to a 
different area of the building and this time I find him and tell him about 
it and we talk on the way and sit next to each other again.
	Then comes 9/11, an event that jolts everyone's lives, not just in the US, 
but around the world.  Like everyone else in America, my eyes are glued to 
the television watching the crumbling of the towers over and over and 
feeling such anger and such hopelessness.  You know, if you look around the 
solar system, there are planets that are pock marked with craters, whereas 
the Earth doesn't have many.  I think we need a big crater that stretches 
from say, Saudi Arabia to maybe, the Pacific Ocean.  That would cut down on 
problems with rising oceans and we wouldn't have to worry much about global 
warming.  It would also get rid of the middle east.  You know why Columbus 
tried to find another way to the Indies?  According to Bill Maher, it was 
because he was sick and tired of dealing with those people and said he would 
rather sail off the edge of the fucking Earth than deal with those people 
one more time.
	It is around that time that Nicole starts telling me about how her husband 
treats her when they are alone and it usually isn't very well.  It just 
confirms what I'd suspected and I really start to hate the guy.  He decides 
to join the Navy after 9/11 and he is moved to Virginia.  Nicole stays here 
planning on finishing her degree and then moving down to join him, though I 
don't know why considering the way she says he treats her.  Everyone has 
told her that the only reason he married her was to get a free pass into the 
US.  But Nicole says that he keeps telling her that he is sorry and doesn't 
mean to treat her like he does, and they are so very much in love and so 
they start papers for him to become a legal citizen.

	That September I am in training as a supervisor which helps take my mind 
off New York City.  I go in to talk to the manager of the Spencer's store in 
Canton thirty minutes or so north of here.  He sits me down, tells me he is 
gay, and asks if it bothers me, to which of course I tell him it doesn't.  
He says he hopes I will be transferred there.  I can make the drive in 
fifteen minutes (don't tell mom, LOL).  Well, I get transferred up there a 
few weeks later and work with him one day before he is forced to quit, some 
shady business that is all hushed up.  I meet "Attila", my new store 
manager, the next day.  Wow what a bitch!  She was an air force bitch and 
tries to run the store just like the military.  It doesn't work and we go 
through about thirty people in a matter of three weeks.  She and I really 
get into it and I tell her that if she doesn't start respecting us, she can 
run the store herself.  By this time, I have been moved up to Assistant 
Manager and I am working forty hours a week.  There are only two of us in 
management and I am only allowed forty hours, so she has to make up the 
rest.  If I had quit, she would have had to work twelve hours a day six days 
a week, plus seven hours on Sunday.  Well, things work out and we start 
working together like a right and left hand.
	Chad and I become good friends and for the rest of the semester we make fun 
of the professor together and joke around.  This professor is a real geek, 
like most astronomers I guess.  I have nothing against them.  I love 
astronomy actually.  Anyway he looks like he fell off a truck on the way to 
class and always has weird stories and ideas about putting kittens into 
microwaves or taking a cat up to the Demon Drop at Cedar Point.  The one day 
he is telling us about a comet that was found and how they should have seen 
it first in Japan but they weren't watching their instruments so the US 
found it.  He says that if they had been watching, they would have said "Hey 
look, we found a comet" and the whole time he is making the mouth movements 
like they do in the poorly dubbed Japanese movies.  I can't believe it.
	Anyway, Chad is a dream.  He is around twenty, about my height, really 
thin, short black hair, very smooth skin.  He looks like he is about 
fifteen, and is totally adorable.  He becomes the subject of many of my jack 
off fantasies and I try everything I can think of to find out if he might be 
interested.  From what I know about him, he doesn't have a girlfriend or any 
interest, and he acts a little "different," both being encouraging 
indications for me.  One day while at work in Canton, I am out for a smoke 
at lunch (I'm down to a pack a week) and as I am coming back, I see him and 
another guy looking into the store looking for me.  I come up from behind 
and say hi and he about jumps out of his skin.  I don't think he wanted me 
to know he was there looking for me.  A bit later I ask him if he wants to 
go to Cedar Point with me but he turns me down.  I try Cedar Point as a way 
to get together with people.
	 One day in late December Mom calls me while I'm at work.  I tell her that 
I will call her back in a few minutes because I am busy with a customer, but 
before she hangs up she tells me that Tara's little girl has died.  I almost 
throw up.  I finish with the customer in a daze and tell the girl that I am 
working with that I have to make a call and I will be in the back.  I call 
Mom back to find out what happened and find out the little girl died of 
meningitis.  I hang up, smoke a cigarette, and just put my head down on the 
desk and cry.  The funeral is a few days before Christmas.  I go to the 
calling hours.  God it is horrible.  Seeing the little girl in that coffin 
is just awful.  I've never been through anything so heartbreaking in my 
life.  I meet Tara's husband for the first and only time at the funeral.  He 
seems decent enough.
	It is during the next semester that I smoke pot for my second and third 
time.  The wife of one of my friends was a big druggy in the past and she 
always knew where to get stuff.  Well, one night I am with them and they 
offer me a joint and I take it.  A week later I go to their place again and 
we do it once more.  About all I remember about the experience is that I got 
so paranoid while I was high thinking that I was going to forget to breathe 
and would die and then everyone would know I smoked pot.  That was the last 
time I've ever smoked the stuff.  The only "illegal" drug I have ever done 
is pot.  I would like to try Ex but I would want somebody I trust with me so 
I don't go jumping out a window like on that after school special with Helen 
Hunt.  I would not do heroin or anything else like that.  The jury is still 
out on cocaine if given the chance.  If I had it, I would smoke pot as much 
as I could, mainly for the health effects and the pain relief I get from it.
	Nicole has gastric bypass surgery that spring to help her lose weight and I 
am there for her through everything.  I go to her house at 1:30 in the 
morning to get her something to eat, I change her bandages, and I just 
generally take care of her and her cats.  Everything she needs, I am there.  
I just want to help.  I really feel sorry for her, and she really seems to 
appreciate my attention.  I know that despite how her husband treats her she 
still has feelings for him so it's not like I am trying to horn in on him or 
anything like that.
	In April of 2002 they close the Canton store because of our sales, and 
because the guy before us had really fucked the store up.  We are missing so 
much inventory it isn't even close to being funny.  So I come back to work 
at the Spencer's store at home.  The manager at this store is the best.  She 
makes it fun and interesting, but we still get our work done.  I wind up 
working with the thin, mousey-looking nerd who had caught my eye while I'd 
been checking out videos at EB back when I'd been working at K-mart and had 
gone to the washroom at the mall to have a quick wank while I pictured what 
a monster cock he had to have.  He fills in part time with us, and my 
curiosity about how he is hung is kindled once again.  Turns out he is a 
nice kid, but unfortunately very homophobic, which means I'm never going to 
find out how big a cock he actually has.  It does add a new twist to my jerk 
off fantasies about him though!  I discover Spencer's sells a massager that 
is similar to the Sexplorer I'd discovered in my parents' bedroom back when 
I was eleven and I buy a few for old times sake.
	Nicole and I both graduate on the same day, her with her bachelors in 
nursing and me with an associate of nothing-I mean arts.  Basically it says 
I went to class and got a piece of paper to show it.  Tara graduates that 
spring too, surprisingly finishing her nursing degree despite everything.  
By the end of that semester we were getting into the higher math 
requirements of the accounting program at Kent and I decide fuck that and to 
switch to business in the fall.  Nicole's husband had been coming up 
occasionally to visit throughout the year and she'd tricked him into having 
a baby.  She has the baby in Virginia and shortly after, she moves back up 
here but her husband stays in Virginia.  He starts getting worse the way he 
talks to her and treats her and starts saying she took his daughter away 
from him.  I really begin feeling sorry for her.
	I'm down to a few cigarettes a day and finally quit in July when I wind up 
in the hospital with a bad infection.  It is kind of funny, my computer 
crashes on July 3 and as I am calling for support, my body shuts down and I 
go into shock.  I have four blankets on me and am so cold I can't breathe.  
My parents want to take me to the hospital but I don't want to go.  I pass 
out around nine and when I wake up at eleven, I finally give in and wind up 
back in the hospital for a few days over the 4th of July.  I always said 
that I would go to some extraordinary lengths to get out of a family get 
together!
	My mom joined the local YMCA that year and started taking my nephew Eric, 
who turned ten a few months ago, there to swim occasionally.  I'd also go 
with them a few times but I had started feeling uncomfortable being in the 
pool, the first signs of my phobia regarding water, so I don't go too often. 
  Mom also started taking him out for lunch and a movie too, to help him get 
his mind off his home life.  There is still fighting going on with his 
parents, my brother and my sister-in-law, even though they are divorced.  
Anyway, he would stay the night and bring his swimming equipment, like his 
snorkel and goggles and stuff.  When they go to the movie, I go through his 
bag to see what he brought.  A few times, I take his snorkel and rub the 
mouth piece on my dick and use it to masturbate with, rubbing my dick head 
back and forth over the rubber cup and when I'm hard humping it until I'm 
ready to cum, thinking about Eric all the while and remembering watching him 
taking a piss and having his bath.  On those days I go to the pool with them 
and I love seeing him in the water using that snorkel, knowing that it was 
on my dick just a few hours before.  His lips are wrapped about the rubber 
cup that I had wrapped about my dickhead and he's sucking on it totally 
unaware where it had been.  God, that is good for a fucking powerful jerk 
off session every time.
	There isn't really too much that happens for some time between Eric and me. 
  I continue trying to sneak glances at him and let him "catch" me changing. 
  There are also a few times when he stays the night and sleeps in the 
family area and I sneak into the bathroom and watch him from the window.  I 
catch him a few times laying on his stomach humping his crotch into the 
cushions, which I commit to memory and use for a major jerk session.  After 
the divorce is finalized, my brother marries his third wife in a simple 
ceremony outside city hall.  We aren't talking to him at the time so we 
don't attend.

	Unfortunately our store manager at Spencer's has to leave because of some 
kind of brain tumor or something and we get stuck with the worst manager in 
the history of the world.  If she were in charge of the Titanic, it never 
would have sunk because it never would have left the dock because I wouldn't 
have been there to tell her what to do.  I run that store for almost a year, 
organize all of the floor changes, take care of all of the paperwork, hire 
and fire, throw stock, clean the whole damn store top to bottom, organize 
and count inventory, everything the manager should have been doing.  The 
district manager knows who is doing all the work too because he always wants 
to talk to me, instead of the store manager.  It really pisses her off.  The 
only reason I am not the manager is because I have to stay at part time 
because of Dad's insurance.
	New Years, my Celebrity sucks a rod in the engine on my way home from work 
and blows up.  I am so crushed.  That is the car I first got laid in, and I 
have such wonderful memories in that car.  I get another car the day after 
New Years and have that one for about two years.  I always seem to blow cars 
up right around the 124,000 mile mark.  So far out of three cars I have had 
to get rid of, they were all right around that point.
	Well, between blowing up the Celebrity and realizing that I'm going to have 
to have surgery one way or the other and being rather nervous about it, I 
begin smoking again.  Also knowing that a surgery is coming up and wanting 
to get my room straightened out before I go in, one weekend that spring I 
just decide to pull everything out of my room and do it.  I have a shit load 
of Spencer's stuff in my room, twenty Lava lamps (which working at Spencer's 
Gifts I got a good discount on), glowing electro balls, different lights and 
fountains, black lights, all sorts of shit.  It takes Dad and me a few days 
to get the shelves built around the ceiling but they are very sturdy and 
look pretty good.  It takes a lot longer to get all my stuff put back in.
	I don't care what is going to happen to me and begin giving discounts at 
Spencer's left and right.  I work until September with the intent of 
returning after recovery.  I go in for another resection, gall bladder 
removal, hernia repair, and scar tissue removal.  They can't use the mesh 
for the hernia because of the possibility of needing to go back in for the 
Crohn's, so they have to slice from rib to hip on both sides, and from rib 
to rib, and hip to hip, to relieve tension so I wouldn't split open.  Due to 
complications from the surgery, to my great disappointment I am not able to 
go back to Spencer's, and have yet to be able to return to work anywhere.
	The reason I have to stay on Dad's insurance is because of these surgeries. 
  The first round cost somewhere around $35,000.  The second surgery is over 
$80,000.  There is no way I could have covered that myself, unless of course 
I started selling my body, and even then it would probably take forever and 
that would have just been a bad situation all around!  To be honest, I've 
seriously considered trying life as a b-boy, having fun and making some 
money on the side.  As it was, I had to file bankruptcy on my credit card 
and hospital bills.  I have been fighting with Social Security for almost 
two years now to get disability and they keep turning me down.  I guarantee 
you if I got addicted to crack tonight, I would be covered tomorrow.  I hate 
our fucking government.
	A few days after the operation while I am still recovering in the hospital 
up in Cleveland, one of the top clinics in the world, my dad calls to check 
in on us.  He tells Mom that my brother had taken Eric to the police 
department because he had a big bruise on his arm.  Turns out that his mom's 
new husband, Mr. Maturity, had gotten pissed and grabbed him by the arm and 
threw him into a chair.  That is the start of another legal battle for 
custody between my brother and his ex-wife, with us being on my brother's 
side this time.  It is a clear cut case and my brother gets custody.
	When I get home, I am at a point where I can't even get off the couch by 
myself.  I hadn't eaten much more than a few bites of hospital chicken in 
almost two weeks and almost died several times.  The first real food I eat 
once I get home is a spicy pizza pretzel from the We're Rolling shop in 
Walmart, a pretzel rolled with pepperoni and cheese.  It is probably way too 
spicy for my sensitive stomach but it is real food and I love it.  Since my 
surgery my tastes seem to have changed, everything from food preferences to 
what I watch on TV.  I used to hate Coke, but now I like it.  I used to 
watch Forensic Files and the Golden Girls over and over, now I can't.  It is 
funny what getting your gut ripped open will do to you.  The one good thing 
about it all is that I quit smoking again.  Well, Mr. Maturity calls up and 
asks if mom could come up and watch Eric and their two kids while he goes to 
work and my sister-in-law sleeps.  Mom tells him that she can't leave me 
alone and he gets pissed and screams "well fuck you" and hangs up.  That is 
the last we speak with them.
	Nicole calls me four weeks after surgery.  Her mom has locked her keys in 
her car and is parked behind Nicole's car and so she wants me to run her to 
her mom's house to get the spare keys.  Four weeks after having my gut 
ripped open, cut from one end to the other, barely able to move, but I go 
out to help her.  She needs me, and I want to help.  Nicole is the one 
person in the world that I trust and that I know I can depend on.
	It takes me a few weeks before I am able to get on the Internet again.  I 
finally get back to my news groups toward the end of October and am pissed 
when I see some of the stuff I missed, but I do find a great little movie I 
had been trying to get for a while.  I sit at the computer and stroke it, 
edging myself right to the point of cumming, and then stop.  I do that a few 
times a day, but I never push myself over the top, remembering the pain and 
disappointment when I'd pushed myself too far after my first operation and 
remembering my doctor's warning.  Then, one Friday, I am sitting watching 
that movie and stroking and push a little too far and start shooting.  I 
grab a glass that is on my desk really quick and get most of it in the 
glass.  It feels great getting one off again finally, but I'm worried I 
might have hurt myself where a guy does not want to hurt himself, and I'm 
disappointed in myself that I let it happen.  It is still about two weeks 
before I should have been having sex according to my doctor, but to my great 
relief nothing untoward happened.  So, I start going all the way every 
fourth day, then every third, and eventually work up to once a day, and am 
eventually back to at least once, usually twice a day.

	I send my letter of resignation to the main office in January of 04, and by 
the end of February, that store closes.  It kind of makes me feel important. 
  I am the type of person that puts 100% of myself into my job.  Spencer's 
is the one job I had that I really loved.  It was fun.  If I do the job, it 
has to be perfect or I don't want to do it.  This has held true from K-mart, 
where I was in charge of the Frozen food section, to Shell where I worked 
ungodly hours and quickly worked my way through the ranks, to Spencer's 
where I basically ran the store.  I am starting to feel like I am bad luck 
though.  Every place I have worked has either closed or changed.  As I 
mentioned K-mart closed a few months after I left, thank God.  Shell became 
a Marathon a few months after I left, and both Spencer's I worked at have 
closed.
	As if matters are not bad enough, Kookie turns really sickly and we take 
her to the vet.  One of the first things they ask me about is her appetite.  
My exact words were, "she only had a bite of her chicken sandwich, she 
didn't touch her taco, and she threw up some pop corn."  The woman looks at 
me like I am from another planet.  That is when Kookie's diet started.  
Kookie is not too happy with her turn of events, and nor am I with mine.  At 
least I have Nicole.

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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