Jude

For a short while, back in the day, I dated one of those guys who checks the tire treadmarks in the driveway to see if somebody has been to your house while he was gone. His name was Jude.

I've always been a social drinker...happy to have a couple of beers and play a game of pool in a bar, especially one of those that has a 100 Beers Club. You put your name on a menu, and cross off the beers as you try them, and when you've tried 100 different ones, they give you a T-shirt and invite you to a party on Labour Day. It took me over a year to get my T-shirt. Theater members used to frequent one such bar after shows, back in the day.

At the Labour Day party, the manager would gather the 100 Club members together and take a group picture. One year, there was a sizeable theater contingent in the center of the picture, and, sitting side by side were my husband (long before he became my husband) and myself.

Jude wanted to go to my hangout, so we went there. He saw the picture, and became agitated (read "ballistic"), so we left. He had a new pickup truck, and we headed out east on Hwy 79, and took a right turn onto CR 122. He was heading for the little road that used to be CR 122, and goes across the creek at an old low-water crossing.

He missed.

He turned left off 122 too soon, and wound up hung on the train tracks, with both axles resting on one of the rails. I don't really think he was all that drunk, he was just so mad he didn't care. We tried to get the truck off the tracks, but our efforts were futile.

Then, we heard the train whistle. He dragged me into the truck and locked the doors. Fortunately, the train was still a good way off, and I had plenty of time to get out. He did not have automatic door locks, thank goodness, and I fled the truck. He stayed inside until the train was really close, and then leapt free. The train totalled the truck, and finally stopped a mile or so down the road. Nobody was hurt, but Jude did get arrested for being drunk and disorderly.

Just your basic doomed relationship.