Blonde blue eyes and Polo by Ralph Lauren is the only thing that mattered to me when I first laid eyes on "Polo" yup that was the name that he went by.
I have written before about my party days when my life was filled with nothing but party nights about 6 days a week of it, yes, it was a lot of fun. What else does a girl do at 18yrs old taking care of herself and finding comfort in serious relationship after serious relationship after serious relationship? I saw him and he saw me and it was lust at first site. I'm not sure what I liked more, the blue eyes, the blonde shadow beard that he had at 18 or the fact that he was a romantic pieces, no matter what the reason was, I found comfort and happiness in his arms.
The minute Polo named me his girlfriend, I met his wonderful loving family who took me in as their own daughter, so much was their love for me, that whatever they bought their own real daughter, I got one too. It was awesome.
When I met him, he told me that he had been in trouble with the law, and that he would possibly be going to jail, I did not care, all that mattered to me was that he was a handsome Irish Italian guy who spoiled me with hugs kisses and gifts, what else could a young girl living alone in NY want? (my parents had left to go back home) and I was alone to explore the city that never sleeps any way I possibly could.
Soon after meeting him, just as he anticipated, he was convicted and sent to prison to do a 1-3 year bid, I don’t remember exactly what the charges were, but I do know that it had to do with drugs and grand theft auto. Once he was convicted and sent to Riker’s Island in NY, My adventure of the "dating the convict story" began. As I sit here and try to re-live the facts of my adventure, the most notable thing besides my "getting engaged at Cayuga Correctional Facility in a visiting room, witnessed by a room full of inmates and their guests (Yes he proposed to me on his knees in a visiting room in a prison). Was the fact that I met Jesse, my loving friend who I lost touch with and till this day I have not been able to find. And also the fact that I met a wonderful mother (his) a woman who did whatever she could for her child. A role model of what a mother should be like.
Jessee became my best friend, in her, I found a girl just like me, that enjoyed partying, visiting her boyfriend in jail and most of all dancing. Her and I would often choreograph our own dance moves that we would later do in the clubs that we would frequent after being dropped of on the 42nd street Times Square bus stop, where our 6-8 hour bus journey would end after visiting our respective boyfriends that were in jails upstate NY. Her and I would visit "our men" every weekend, and after our visit, we would come home and party like rock stars, as “our men” thought we were home waiting for their calls… NOT. Hey! I was 18 years old, I wasn’t married to the dude, actually, I wasn’t even in love with the dude, I cared for him very much though, because if I had not, I would not have taken those trips to a jail. Additionally, the fact that his mom bought me cloths and gave me money often was also a big incentive to stay in that crazy relationship. Again, I was 18 and on my own. His mother had taken me in as her own, she gave me affection and gave me things to keep me happy. By her keeping me happy, it made her son happy.
One of my most vivid memories of that episode of my life, was this one time when we had to make a quick stop at Sin Sin correctional facility to drop off a girl or two who's man was doing a 25 to life bid. Holy SHIT! Is all I can say! When we pulled up to the jail and I woke up and looked up, all I saw was these high scary gray walls and bob wire fence that stretched around the whole prison. In addition there were armed guards all around. The air felt cold and moist and the smell was of dirt after a rainfall. As I write this and a vision of that horrible prison comes to my mind, I cannot help but to feel a cold chill running down my back. It was a terrifying place. Sin Sin correctional facility, holds the worst of the worst criminals in NYS while the bus was standing there letting people out and I was looking out of the window witnessing this horrible site I could not help but to feel the cold almost foggy aura that lingered over that bus and it scared me half to death. As I remember this and write it, I can't help but to think, Dear God, hundreds of lost souls in there, was that a purgatory? The men with the blood of many on their hands, serial killers, murderers and all kinds of societies most frightening people were all there, behind those high gray walls.
Now that I am a mother and think back about that loving family that took me in as their own, I can only imagine the suffering of Polo's poor mother. She was one of the most loving women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She called me her Jazzy and that I was. I didn’t’ realize it then, but now that I am also a mother, I realize what pain she must have been experiencing. It is no wonder that she would want to be good to me and treat me as her own, as I was the only happiness her son knew for about 8months (that's as long as I was able to handle that "bid") the story has a lot more details to it that I do not wish to divulge on my blog, but I can honestly say, that I do not regret it. Polo and his family really cared about me, I know for sure they did. I cared about them very much as well.
I have written before about my party days when my life was filled with nothing but party nights about 6 days a week of it, yes, it was a lot of fun. What else does a girl do at 18yrs old taking care of herself and finding comfort in serious relationship after serious relationship after serious relationship? I saw him and he saw me and it was lust at first site. I'm not sure what I liked more, the blue eyes, the blonde shadow beard that he had at 18 or the fact that he was a romantic pieces, no matter what the reason was, I found comfort and happiness in his arms.
The minute Polo named me his girlfriend, I met his wonderful loving family who took me in as their own daughter, so much was their love for me, that whatever they bought their own real daughter, I got one too. It was awesome.
When I met him, he told me that he had been in trouble with the law, and that he would possibly be going to jail, I did not care, all that mattered to me was that he was a handsome Irish Italian guy who spoiled me with hugs kisses and gifts, what else could a young girl living alone in NY want? (my parents had left to go back home) and I was alone to explore the city that never sleeps any way I possibly could.
Soon after meeting him, just as he anticipated, he was convicted and sent to prison to do a 1-3 year bid, I don’t remember exactly what the charges were, but I do know that it had to do with drugs and grand theft auto. Once he was convicted and sent to Riker’s Island in NY, My adventure of the "dating the convict story" began. As I sit here and try to re-live the facts of my adventure, the most notable thing besides my "getting engaged at Cayuga Correctional Facility in a visiting room, witnessed by a room full of inmates and their guests (Yes he proposed to me on his knees in a visiting room in a prison). Was the fact that I met Jesse, my loving friend who I lost touch with and till this day I have not been able to find. And also the fact that I met a wonderful mother (his) a woman who did whatever she could for her child. A role model of what a mother should be like.
Jessee became my best friend, in her, I found a girl just like me, that enjoyed partying, visiting her boyfriend in jail and most of all dancing. Her and I would often choreograph our own dance moves that we would later do in the clubs that we would frequent after being dropped of on the 42nd street Times Square bus stop, where our 6-8 hour bus journey would end after visiting our respective boyfriends that were in jails upstate NY. Her and I would visit "our men" every weekend, and after our visit, we would come home and party like rock stars, as “our men” thought we were home waiting for their calls… NOT. Hey! I was 18 years old, I wasn’t married to the dude, actually, I wasn’t even in love with the dude, I cared for him very much though, because if I had not, I would not have taken those trips to a jail. Additionally, the fact that his mom bought me cloths and gave me money often was also a big incentive to stay in that crazy relationship. Again, I was 18 and on my own. His mother had taken me in as her own, she gave me affection and gave me things to keep me happy. By her keeping me happy, it made her son happy.
One of my most vivid memories of that episode of my life, was this one time when we had to make a quick stop at Sin Sin correctional facility to drop off a girl or two who's man was doing a 25 to life bid. Holy SHIT! Is all I can say! When we pulled up to the jail and I woke up and looked up, all I saw was these high scary gray walls and bob wire fence that stretched around the whole prison. In addition there were armed guards all around. The air felt cold and moist and the smell was of dirt after a rainfall. As I write this and a vision of that horrible prison comes to my mind, I cannot help but to feel a cold chill running down my back. It was a terrifying place. Sin Sin correctional facility, holds the worst of the worst criminals in NYS while the bus was standing there letting people out and I was looking out of the window witnessing this horrible site I could not help but to feel the cold almost foggy aura that lingered over that bus and it scared me half to death. As I remember this and write it, I can't help but to think, Dear God, hundreds of lost souls in there, was that a purgatory? The men with the blood of many on their hands, serial killers, murderers and all kinds of societies most frightening people were all there, behind those high gray walls.
Now that I am a mother and think back about that loving family that took me in as their own, I can only imagine the suffering of Polo's poor mother. She was one of the most loving women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She called me her Jazzy and that I was. I didn’t’ realize it then, but now that I am also a mother, I realize what pain she must have been experiencing. It is no wonder that she would want to be good to me and treat me as her own, as I was the only happiness her son knew for about 8months (that's as long as I was able to handle that "bid") the story has a lot more details to it that I do not wish to divulge on my blog, but I can honestly say, that I do not regret it. Polo and his family really cared about me, I know for sure they did. I cared about them very much as well.
I learned a great deal about life by having lived that experience. I met a lot of woman that stood by their men through their hard times. I met my loving friend Jesse who I think of often and wish I could see again. But most of all, I learned that a mother or rather a great mother, is the only one that will be by your side no matter what you do. Polo's mom, did that bid and many more with him as he after coming out of jail, went back again and again. He became institutionalized.
I spoke to him a few years ago and got told off for being a bitch, yes, he told me off. When I spoke to him I felt really sad, because I could tell he was stuck in a place I had long forgotten. He was stuck in the past, he had not moved on from the pain I had caused him by leaving him while he was still in jail. I am not sure what he expected me to say or do, when I spoke to him and we caught up, he told me that he had been through a lot of things after we lost contact. He told me how once had been cornered by some “Latin Kings” who are a jail gang and they had cut his face. He had gotten 200 stitches and had a horrible scar. I felt so bad and sad for him, that handsome face ruined by people that run around hurting others just for name. Polo had such a big heart, he was such a great guy and life took him through some really hard times. It is so unfortunate what some people go through, yet some of us think we have it bad. This is why it’s important to me, to often evaluate my life and be thankful for the wonderful things that I have. So many have it and have had it so much harder.
I never married him obviously, I had actually paid for my own engagement ring that his mom was going to slowly pay me back for and never did because I broke everything off. He was the only man that has proposed to me on bended knee. I realize now that we were both so young, and that, that was not a serious proposal (meaning we were young and didn’t know any better). He did it more so I assume, to secure that his girl would stick by his side, I’m not saying that he didn’t care for me, I am sure he did, but again, we were so young and he was behind bars. I was not able to handle it all after a while and I deserted him after the traveling started to get tiring. Yet after Jazzy was gone, there she was, his mother, ever so faithful to her true love (her son).
I never married him obviously, I had actually paid for my own engagement ring that his mom was going to slowly pay me back for and never did because I broke everything off. He was the only man that has proposed to me on bended knee. I realize now that we were both so young, and that, that was not a serious proposal (meaning we were young and didn’t know any better). He did it more so I assume, to secure that his girl would stick by his side, I’m not saying that he didn’t care for me, I am sure he did, but again, we were so young and he was behind bars. I was not able to handle it all after a while and I deserted him after the traveling started to get tiring. Yet after Jazzy was gone, there she was, his mother, ever so faithful to her true love (her son).
On mothers day, as I saw my first born get ready to go off to work and I kissed him goodbye, I felt a sense of....Oh my God! my baby is growing up! I thought about that wonderful mother I had the pleasure of knowing, and all of a sudden, all that she did for her baby boy made sense to me. Her love for me, her embracing me for being with her son when he needed someone most and all that she did, I would probably do as well. The love for your child, is like no other.
I no longer see or know anything about that wonderful family, but I have a diamond ear ring (I converted my engagement ring into an ear ring) that reminds me of a story I once lived.
I no longer see or know anything about that wonderful family, but I have a diamond ear ring (I converted my engagement ring into an ear ring) that reminds me of a story I once lived.
oh Jazzy, sad story, but so meaningful!
ReplyDeleteYes, very meaningful, I live and learn :)
ReplyDelete