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    Mountain Meals: Memoirs
    Mountain Meals: Memoirs
    Mountain Meals: Memoirs
    Ebook122 pages2 hours

    Mountain Meals: Memoirs

    By Karri Beaner

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Hey, it's Karri.

    Have you ever felt like you were meant for something more? I know I have. That's why I started my own business. And now, with the release of my new book, "Mountain Meals," I'm sharing my story with the world.

    In my book, I talk about how I found success as a delivery driver during the 2020 pandemic lockdown. But this book is more than just a feel-good story. It's also an exploration of love, obsession, and mental illness.

    If you're looking for a read that will both educate and entertain, then look no further. Click the link below to buy "Mountain Meals" today!
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateFeb 14, 2023
    ISBN9781667887180
    Mountain Meals: Memoirs

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      Book preview

      Mountain Meals - Karri Beaner

      BK90075060.jpg

      Copyright 2023

      All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

      ISBN: 978-1-66788-717-3 (print)

      ISBN: 978-1-66788-718-0 (eBook)

      Contents

      Forward

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Forward

      I write this book with love in my heart for Max, Coronavirus victims, and restaurant owners, their employees and all the people I delivered food to during the lockdown and the Coronavirus outbreak. The name, Mountain Meals, is a fictitious creation of the delivery driver app for which I work and I have changed the names of this app, myself, others, and businesses in order to keep their identities private. Due to the delicate nature of life at the moment, I have used a pen name, Karri Beaner, and continue the use of this name throughout the book to protect myself. You may be wondering why I would need to do this, but you will know why when you read the contents. I am asking everyone who reads this to please respect my privacy however, I am very aware that if readers really want to find out information on me, and the people and places I write about, they can accomplish this on the Internet.

      It is not my intention to hurt anything or anyone with this story, and I have omitted some content to protect them. This book is intended to share a unique story, to express emotions, and to inform the public about some mental-health challenges in America. It also expresses my perilous journey to being a hero delivery driver during the Coronavirus Pandemic.

      Chapter 1

      Most Livable Place

      In March of 2000, I was living in an apartment in a remote, picturesque Rocky Mountain town of Bozeman, Montana. Bozeman is exceptionally beautiful, ringed by several mountain ranges, and its motto is The Most Livable Place. I still live here. Located in Gallatin County, approximately ninety miles north of Yellowstone National Park, Bozeman has abundant outdoor recreation. The county has a trail system called Main Street to the Mountains that can be biked, walked, and even skied, starting from inside Bozeman, and trickling into the nearest mountain range, The Bridgers.

      My eastside, second-floor apartment was behind a bus depot and near a gas station, and it was nothing special at all. It was a studio apartment in a building of eight, which had a basic bathroom with only a standup shower, small kitchen, plain carpeting, and one big window. It was about as basic as you could make an apartment. Across the hall was one other apartment, recently vacated by a girl I had been friends with and then, for some unknown reason, we became enemies. As luck would have it, a good-looking guy around my age moved in after her.

      By looking out my window at the parking lot below, I spied him grabbing boxes and taking them up the stairs. When he got to his door, I would peek through a crack in the door frame, desperately peering out for a closer look. Only tiny pieces of him were available for viewing, and what I could make out was that he was thin and tall. I was convinced he was an answer to my request from the universe, but now the problem for me, being a socially awkward woman, was how to meet him. I didn’t completely know it at the time, but I look a little like Natalie Portman from Star Wars and Thor. I have brown eyes and brunette hair, am of average weight and slightly above-average height, with a cute little head and long legs with prominent shins. (I was on vaguely aware of just how attractive I was until I got much older!) I’m always preening my clothes, with a special obsession for my pant legs, making sure they are a certain length and sit on top of my shoes perfectly. I decided I would use my beauty to lure him in, and all I needed was a plan!

      After thinking it over for weeks, I decided to make a slow approach, gradually working my way into his life, trying not to impose myself too much or too fast. I could borrow something like a cup of sugar, but that tactic had been done to death, so, I waited for weeks for a real need to show itself. One day, my computer crashed and I could no longer play solitaire, so I decided the need is a computer and I would go and borrow his! I didn’t know if he had one, so this was a real chance I was taking, and I had no plan B if he didn’t.

      I finally got up the nerve to go over there. It was a Friday, and I chose this day because it was the start of the weekend, just in case he had a Monday through Friday job, and the probability of him being in a good mood would be increased. I walked over to his door and carefully knocked, and he answered,

      Do you have a computer I could borrow? I said, trying to sound a bit like a little girl looking for some candy. Mine crashed.

      Looking into his brown eyes that looked like mine, he frowned at me like he was going to say no, and, after the dramatic pause, he replied with an enthusiastic, Yes! He motioned to me where it was and I walked in and sat down, grabbed the mouse to wake it up, and began intently playing the game. Peeking at him from the corner of my eyes, I noticed he was nervously walking back and forth and it seemed that perhaps he was doing that before I came over. He had no TV, hadn’t been using the computer, and pacing seemed to be the thing he was into on a Friday night, which was about the same as my Friday night.

      I played solitaire for about twenty minutes, then got up walked to the door, briefly glanced at him and said goodbye, but before I left, he spoke.

      That’s all you wanted?? Whew!

      I thought it sounded kind of rude, but that’s why I was slowly working my way into his life, so I went home.

      I let maybe a week go by and then decided to see if I could use his computer again. I went through the same ritual, knocked, sat down, played for a bit, then got up and left without saying anything. A few days later, I did it again, and this time he stopped me at the door and had something say to me.

      Listen, can we just be friends? Because I’m mean. I’m really a mean person.

      He went on to explain, I grew up in Georgia. I had a crush on a girl, and we became friends and she told me she loved me. Then I started to call her horrible names and couldn’t stop. Then she became afraid of me and I began compulsively following her all over town. I would appear in strange clothes, in different cars, in restaurants and stores and just in areas where she was, and I just couldn’t stop myself. Finally, someone in my family realized what was going on and managed to take me to a psychiatrist and I got prescribed an antipsychotic, Clozapine. After a while, I was using the Clozapine for anxiety and began popping them all the time and I became addicted to them.

      He paused for just a brief moment and then added, My behavior got so bad that I had to leave town, and it really sucked because I loved her.

      I was astonished and intrigued by what he was saying and at a loss of words for a reply, but being desperate for companionship, I thought that friendship was a better alternative than loneliness and I believed I could change his mind about being just friends later. Figuring for now what he really needed was in fact just a companion, my plan was to get him used to hanging around me and comfortable with me so that he wouldn’t want to be separated from me and desire to be my boyfriend. Also, I know the male sex drive is very strong, and thought that if we were around each other long enough and enjoyed each other’s company, then he would fall for me and want me as his girlfriend! This was my simple plan, and I thought it would be just a matter of time and patience for it to happen! Plus, I knew I was attractive and that was a big plus. I said nothing, and after a few minutes he continued and said quietly, Whatever you do, don’t tell me you love me.

      Another pause and he looked up from his hands and with a higher voice he said, Oh no, look at me I’m everywhere! like he was thinking about the future.

      To me it seemed like what he was describing was mental illness, but I didn’t care. I was desperate for affection and was willing to take a chance that he could grow out of the illness. Besides, if a person is aware and takes medicine for it, it means they are learning to live with it, right?? While he never used the word, stalking, he and I both knew what he was describing to me and, his stalking seemed like I would win him over no matter what I did, if he chose to do it. My charm and beauty would get him or his stalking compulsion would. I did not think he would be able to deny me love, after we got to know each other. Besides, this is the man of my dreams and what I asked for the universe for, and he has to be the one, otherwise, it was a cruel joke the universe was playing on me. So, the plan was, if he was not going to be my husband someday, then I was going to toy with him with his own inability to control his malicious stalking behavior. Whether it was malicious or benign stalking I wouldn’t know for sure, but this was a chance I was willing to take for love. To me his stalking behavior could mean he was merely pursuing a girl because he loved her, and that is not compulsive and psychopathic. Again, he stopped rubbing his hands together, then looked up at me with brown

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