The Glamorous Lifestyle of the Roadie Wife
My husband has the ultimate life. He lives out of hotel rooms.
He’s served by room service. He has a maid pick up after him every morning. He has a wife at home taking care of his two children and making sure they are raised properly. All night, every night, he is surrounded by girl dancers in their underwear who have bodies you could bounce a Cadillac off of. He has his closest buddies at his side for hitting the bars and having a few drinks after work with, and can still come in at all hours and not worry about waking anyone up, except perhaps the concierge at the front desk.
Well screw that action; here is the other side of the story.
You must keep in mind that being married to a roadie is like being in an eternal divorce that never ends and has none of the benefits of an actual divorce. Where the hell is my every other weekend off? Always broke because we are supporting two households, and one has a maid. In a divorce you get to burn, throw out or spew it out the open window with gale force winds just to see your spouse’s prized possessions (I like to call it “shit”) all over the neighborhood.
Ahhh, now let’s not forget the birthdays, anniversaries and holidays. Who needs a card or a gesture on a holiday? We roadie wives cross our fingers and hope for the best. Never make plans. They will always be destroyed at the last minute. That’s right - don’t plan Xmas dinner because I guarantee there will be a gig that night, same with New Year’s and your birthday. Your anniversary will be totally forgotten until you remind the bastard and end up with guilt flowers a week later.
The roadie's children, now they have it made because Daddy is the best!!! Every time he comes home they get gifts, and nothing from the dollerama either. The children of a roadie get great stuff; Gamecube and roller blades and all the other stuff that makes Mom look like an uncaring hard ass.
Being on your own raising two children is never easy. I salute all the single parents that tough through the job. Where is the time off? Where is the adult conversation? This mom can only handle so many “Mario did what?”-topics.
After I have spent 10 years in this type of relationship, I really would like to know if there any married folk left? Am I the only one who sits there with Catholic guilt and thinks, “Til Death (bring it bitch) do we part”? Every marriage that I have seen take place around me, that is of the same lifestyle, has fallen apart. It doesn't matter how much I love this man, I am still left alone. Alone to handle the bills, pay the mortgage and raise the children.
I don't think you can truly define alone until you have been to that deep dark place. If you can see light, you are not there. The depths of this tunnel truly define what type of person you are. I have discovered within my own personality, I can boss the shit out of anyone and I can make people cry. My largest fault is I can not control my own life.
I don't own me.
by
Raz
