That Upside-Down Shoe Court Table Thing
You poor old sod, you see it's only me
Jethro Tull - "Aqualung" - Aqualung - 1971
In 2007, Mom and I had one of the most strikingly interesting conversations of my life. Mom was upset with Aydin, complaining that his “prima donna needs” were running Neila, his main caregiver, ragged. That led to her reflecting about her days as his wife and a flurry of complaints about how narcissistic, smothering, and addicted to stimulation he was.
Those things alone justify ending the union. I remarked how hard it must have been to separate the children from their father and that she surely would not have done so without sound reasons.
After a pregnant pause, Mom chuckled and explained out-of-the-blue how, in her Turkish divorce court, a woman who was subjected to butt sodomy simply removed her shoe and laid it sole-up on the table, sparing her the indignity of having to explain the sordid matter.
Even though Mom and I had a history of candid and bawdy conversation, I was floored. There was obviously only one reason why she would be telling me this.
She continued, explaining that he cheated on her several times. Once I picked my damn jaw up off the floor, I could only offer a standard-issue suggestion, assumptive and incorrect, that she was lucky he didn't bring home anything microscopic n' nasty to her.“He did!” she replied.
Oh, Dear
I was rendered near-dizzy for a moment. Torn between not wanting to hear another word and rabid for every detail, I pushed on, knowing that Mom would not pass up a chance to praise Turkish health care.
Yes, she quickly got fixed up.
Syphilis? She shook her head. The other one? She nodded. Gonorrhea? Again, she nodded. Mercy!
Mistresses or Istanbul's famed brothels? Both, she indicated.
Asked if he was bothersome in pressuring her for, uh, "nonstandard intimacy," she rolled her eyes and exclaimed that he was insufferably focused on such things and constantly needy. When I likened him to Playboy, our departed nasty-ass poodle who would go into heat a few times a year and throw the household into disarray, she laughed heartily.
I was always told they divorced because they'd be better as friends than spouses. The cornhole-flavored version certainly packed a bit more zazz, for DAMN sure. Wow.
As anyone who ain't a moron would think, Mom was conflicted in blurting out such a thing to her son. But, she was getting close to the end of the line and there was no way she was going to let persist the notion that she suffered significantly less than she actually did. She greatly preferred that others were aware of her suffering whenever possible.
And, it's a pretty good story. Awful, yes, but quite a story.
Of course, that divorce led to Mom meeting and wedding Dad in violation of Aydin's outrageous demand that Mom never remarry. Yep, I exist because a sleazy, selfish Turk old enough to be Mom's father cheated on her and gave her gonorrhea after she wouldn't let him habitually fuck her in the ass.
Oh well. We all have our reasons for being here, I suppose.
I've searched the web for this table shoe sodomy court thing and found nothing. I must say the search did get rather interesting, though.
NOTE: Had Mom told me to not repeat this spicy meatball, given my values and background, it's obvious I would have kept quiet. Curiously (and thankfully), she did no such thing. Ask me to keep a secret and I keep it, barring staggeringly extenuating circumstances. Hell, I'm holding spicy meatballs to this day for at least two Flozzies on our Parade of Kooks roster.
Mom and I were in many ways pretty tight, if you'll excuse the expression. I would never betray a confidence involving her.