I get about three Sundays off a month. This one of the two days off a week I get- usually the other is Tuesday, the night I have fighter practice. On occasion, I like to go out on a date with my boyfriend, who lives with my parents in a sort of indentured servitude.
This indentured servitude is starting to go way beyond though. Three Sundays ago, they took him to camp and kidnapped him all weekend, despite promising that he could stay home with me instead (I dislike being in an empty house, it creeps me out).
Last Sunday we were all stuck at camp, getting eaten alive by blackflies in what was obviously a bad idea.
This Sunday, today, I wanted to go out and do something. A movie, dinner, anything. A reason to dress up a little and not look like the fry cook and cashier for some podunk store in the middle of nowhere.
I told my mom I wanted to take Sam out tonight, and she flat out told me no. He was going to be busy all day with the deck. He was too busy to go on a date with me.
The guy I worked my ass off to bring to Maine is now so under my parents' thumb that I never get to see him on my one weekend day off.
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