Food Stamp Saga - Part 6

When we got to the food stamp office (DHS), he tried to get me to go in first and sign up.  I was puzzled.  "Don't I need to be off of your card first?"  He mumbled some senseless bs, then said, "Either way, maybe so."  I also asked, "Isn't there a waiting room or something inside?  I mean, I don't see why either of us needs to sit out here in the cold to wait our turn."  He stuttered, then said there was a waiting area where you take a number, then it is called when it is your turn. It may take several hours or not even get your turn until the next day.  I unbuckled, got out, said, "We are here, I'll take my chances.  You take me off first, then I will apply."  He had an odd look on his face, but went on in.  Of course he had to open the door for me, to look good for them.  All throughout our relationship, he seldom opened a door for me, now and then on occasion, but seldom.

We took our numbers from the front window, him first. Although there were a few people in the waiting room, there was only one person ahead of us.  After just a few minutes, the receptionist called his number.  He had  me taken off of his card in no time.  He bounced out of that office with a childish grin on his face and a victorious spring in his step, seemingly very pleased he had his own food stamps all to himself!  He was also determined that he was going to wait out in the cold truck while I went in for my turn, rather than in the warm waiting room.  It was pretty cold that day.

So why do I think he was so determined to have me go in first while he waited out in the cold truck, and that he waited outside when I finally did go in?  My answer to that is simply my deductive reasoning, my thoughts, opinions and conclusion.   At first I was totally confused and puzzled.  Now, after an incident with the phone (I know. I still haven't gotten to that post quite, yet), I realize he was probably waiting out in the truck so he could dial in to my phone to hear what all I might be saying to the DHS worker. Both of our phones do work in that town. (Many of the newer phones come with an app where you can call into another phone and listen to everything going on in the room through the speaker. If a phone doesn't have it, an app can be easily acquired and installed. His nephew's cell phone does have this app (It came with his phone) and he has told me a few times, in the past, about it. To make them legal, this app is sold under the pretense that it is for parents to use to keep up with their children, but it gets used for countless other uses.) 

By me going in first, if he used such an app, he could hear all I was saying to the worker, then counter it in conversation when he went in.  That is how the mind of a narcissist works, always having to make sure they aren't the one that looks bad. They will go to whatever extreme they have to to accomplish this.  When I didn't go in first, I think he still raced back out to the truck to get on his phone to listen to what he could, to keep fully informed for future use against me. Am I being paranoid? NO .... it is a huge possibility and I am just watching my own back as closely as possible. I have to protect me. If he does hear anything that would anger him, that he would take as something that was said against him, he could/would go into a violent rage again, and I want to prevent as much of that as I possibly can.

Part 7 of the Food Stamp Saga coming soon, where I discuss my turn in the food stamp office.

Thanks for stopping in and ;have a good day.

Signed - Betty Sue

Food Stamp Saga - Part 5

It has been awhile since I wrote the last installment of the food stamp topic, so I hope I pick back up in the right place and make sense. If not, feel free to ask me questions. I have just had so much going on, and my emotions are really starting to get to me, and Internet time is getting more and more rare. I apologize for the delay in the story segments........

We made several stops on that day, at which I know for fact that his food purchases added up to be quite a bit more than the $23 he was allotting each of us. I figured he was cutting in to the next month's funds himself, anyway, but I wasn't allowed to. There was still a lot of grocery funds unaccounted for from that current  month. Who knows where it all went. I figure either his sister got a good bill of groceries that month (above what I know we gave her) or he ate a lot of good munchies when he ran errands, or a combination of the two.

Fast Forward to the First of January - 

We went to the DHS office on January 2nd. He had told me the night before that he was going there when he got off work the next day and that I could ride along with him if I wanted to so I could get signed up for my own food stamps. He was going there to take me off of his card. It really kinda surprised me that he was so anxious to get this done because with me on there, the amount of food stamps he got more than doubled. Taking me off would drop his to less than half of what he was getting with me on the card, but I was okay with that, so I said, yes, I would go with him. Actually, what I was looking at the most wasn't the chance to sign up for my own food stamps, but the opportunity to get to talk to a counselor, case worker, anyone, at the food stamp office about what was going on here at home! I wanted to tell them, face to face, about my hand and get some advice, see if they could help me go get it examined, maybe. I just wanted someone in authority to hear me! Without any transportation, I have not been able to do that and the fact that, here he was, offering to take me himself, was too good to be true!

That next day after he got off work (of course he had sternly commanded that I be ready to jump in the truck the second he got home) he got out of the pickup, walked up to me (several feet between us) and started naming excuses why I shouldn't go. (I was excited that the idiot was giving me opportunity to speak with a DHS case worker in person. I guess he finally figured that that might not be so wise.). He used the 'little dog' as an excuse. (We always take him with us so a couple of the big dogs don't play too rough with him, unsupervised, and hurt him) . . . . or I could go another day if I still had stuff to do here, etc.  I ignored all the excuses and went!

Stay tuned for Part 6 of Food Stamp Saga, about our visit to the DHS office.

Thanks for stopping in and have a good day.

Signed - Betty Sue