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Gentleman caller # 1

14 Apr

Of course through out the last 26 years of life I have had several gentlemen callers, but I am labeling this bro as # 1 for no real apparent reason other than this situation popped into my head today.

I was 19 years old, working at Target, and possibly considering going to the local community college. Yes folks, I was living the dream.  I was wearing khaki pants with red shirts and wanting to know more about getting a degree in liberal arts (which is the equivalent of being a barista at starbucks).  So during this particular time of self loathing I had met a gentleman that was of no use to me other than to have a roll in the hay with every so often.  He claimed to be a former wrestler, no not like olympic wrestler, like weirdo pay per view wrestling with masks and spandex leotard.  He was quite pathetic, but the sex was rather enjoyable.  I would honestly go to his house, do the deed, and leave because he had the personality of a spoon.

Anyway, about two months into this fucked up relationship when I would go to his apartment he would want me to do things for him (not fun things you are thinking of pervert) like bring him a drink from the local store or bring in his mail.  Okay, I was fine with that.  But one day things took a drastic change…

After our fun time he asked me to change his laundry over in the laundry room and fold his clothes.  WHAT THE FUCK?  Do I look like your maid?  Is my name Maria the migrant worker?  Hell no.  So I did it (sorta I just kinda lumped the clothes in a pile) for some ungodly reason and as I was ready to walk out he asked me to put another load of his dirty ass draws and arm pit stained t-shirts in the washer.  Listen ladies, no random sex is worth having to touch some douche bags dirty ass underwear.  So I did what any other woman with tits, ass, and a brain would do… I filled the washer with bleach and threw in as much clothes (mostly already clean ones) as my hands could grasp into the washer.  Turned that bitch on and walked out of his apartment.

Later that evening he sent me text calling me a cunt and various other obscenities and that I would pay for ruining his favorite Nickleback t-shirt.  I simply replied, no hablo ingles.  Boom.

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Posted by on April 14, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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