I walked into the lunch room today, to wash my dishes.
While there, I couldn't help but listen to the conversation.
Three people were gossiping about someone, about said person's back injury, and how that person can't get a good job because of a criminal record.
I chose not to listen to all the garbage about how back injuries are fake, and if someone wants to work, they'll find a way (look at all the immigrants!).
Yuck. Not going there.
Anyway, I was washing my dishes, and one fellow says that the guy should get a pardon. It's not that expensive, after all. Only $500.
So, I chimed in, and said that it wasn't that difficult or expensive to get a pardon. And the expense is well worth it, because it improves chances of oh, say, getting a passport, and... hmmm... let me think... passing a criminal record check. Possibly even having a meaningful career.
Well. You could have heard a pin drop in the room. For about half a second.
I explained. My wasband had a criminal record. I knew that, when I married him. At the time of our marriage, it was not an impediment, but it was when we started talking about our goals as a couple.
I did not sucessfully avoid the question of what he did. Trust me, what he didn't isn't relevant. Nineteen, addicted and stupid explains a lot.
He got a pardon, at my insistence. That was one good thing I did for him.
Anyway, I think my street cred went up a whole lot in that room. Even though I am not any way near responsible for the events that necessitated the need for a pardon.
My marriage ended eight years ago. When will it stop being relevant to my life? I'm sick of dragging up these stories, but I can't help it. I know things, because of a ten-year relationship with a complicated person. Shit, I'm tired of this. I have, truly, moved on.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
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