From the diary of Pamela Barnes Ewing, a.k.a. Pammy:
I did a stupid thing. I married Bobby Ewing after one lustful and drunken weekend in Austin. I am so ashamed! But there’s nothing to about it now – I have my pride and reputation and a quickie divorce would make me the laughingstock of Dallas County.
Bobby and I drove out to Southfork together after the “wedding” and moved into his parent’s house. We have one room. Even though it’s an enormous house, I feel confined. I went down to the kitchen to get some warm milk after Bobby and I made love the other night and Jock was sitting in the dark at the kitchen table, drinking.
The entire time I heated up my milk, he stared at my chest and talked about oil fields. But I didn’t have the guts to go tell Bobby!
Bobby’s mother is no better. I’ve wondered more than once if Jock had her lobotomized. She sits with this blank, bland look on her face all the time. When she does say something it’s either to tell Jock how much she loves him or to comment on the intensity of the wind.
The Ewings are a strange lot. They have a little moppet who lives with them, the daughter of the missing brother, Gary, who packed it up a long time ago when he decided he didn’t want to be part of the family anymore. She wears such strange clothing, much of it red, and talks with such an odd cadence that I can hardly understand what she’s saying. She stopped me on the stairs one of my first nights here, trying to tell me her story, but I hardly understood it and then she ran away. I feel as if I’m living in a Bronte novel.
I do try to make myself useful, since I’m not working. I organize Poloroid photos of me and Bobby into albums. I make coffee whenever Bobby’s mother will let me. I go shopping. I even took on making Lucy (that’s the moppet) go to school, which involved me buying her some normal clothes, dropping her off and picking her up. Then she had to go and pretend that she was attacked by the principal and things got weird.
My only respite so far has been the hours I spend at the downtown Braddock disco. It just opened. All the finest people hang out there, doing the latest dances. It’s grand! I went with Bobby on opening night. We were like the king and queen of Braddock; all eyes were on us. Probably also people had never seen such fine clothes as what I wore – white slacks that highlight my ass (Bobby is an ass man) paired with a white turtleneck and my hair done up in a bun. Bobby said, “You’re going to get very hot, dancing in a turtleneck,” but he doesn’t realize yet that I don’t sweat.
My only worry is Ray Krebbs, the ranch hand. I don’t know why I dated him last year. I guess I was bored or the sex was good (nothing compared to Bobby!) I found out the other day that he’s having relations with the moppet! It disgusts me. And… if I’m going to be totally honest here, makes me a bit jealous. I wonder if Ray and I will ever have an affair? What about me and Bobby’s all-powerful brother, J.R.? Or maybe, out of pure boredom, I will hook up with J.R.’s wife, Sue Ellen. She’s not bad looking but she does have the demeanor of a puppy that’s been kicked one too many times.
But, even more important than all that (and that’s pretty important!), is figuring out how many different ways can I wear beige. And doesn’t the city of Dallas deserve it’s own Pamela Barnes Ewing Sculpture Garden?
From my photo collection:
