He worked in the kitchen, I was the impressionable young hostess. He asked me out and I went with him to a bar. He purchased drinks for everyone in the bar (it was nearly empty) and we played pool as he told me about all of the famous chefs he had worked with when he had lived in New York. He told me about his French cooking education. One of the girls at the bar pulled me over and told me "that he was a really bad scene" and red flags started to pop up all over. He was the prep cook in a pizza place... he HAD to be lying about... everything. Talking a mile a minute. He proceeded to get roaring drunk and then told me that he wanted a blowjob in the alley out back. I left, convinced that he was completely insane and I wasn't ever going to go out with him again.
He showed up the next day that we both worked together... with a yellow backpack. He comes over to me and tells me "You're the only person here that would understand how fucking cool these are" and he opens the backpack to reveal... three wet hairy things wrapped up in plastic newspaper baggies. I ask him what they were and he said "they're cat heads, I found them on my way to work. I'm going to put them in the backyard with the rest of the skulls. You see, if you dig a shallow hole and put a rock over the top of them then the bigger critters can't steal them, but the smaller critters will clean them for you". They were parked in the yellow backpack under the pasta station for the rest of the night.
He called me ...yes, I had given him my phone number before the first date... he called me crying, telling me that he was in love with me. The he told me that he even goes out at night and watches my house to make sure I am safe. He stands up bottles of whatever he has been drinking around my trash can so that I know how long he's out there. I told him to get a puppy or something. A week later, he shows up at my front door with two Mickey's Wide Mouths at 2 a.m. to show me his puppy. I have reason to believe that he broke into my house and stole my roommate's computer. He told me that he had broken into my car and sat in it because he wanted to be able to smell me. He raped another hostess and then told her not to tell me that they had slept together because I would get jealous and have her fired.
He lived with his uncle, who was confined to a wheelchair. This needs to be a movie some day.
Diagnosis: Bipolar or Antisocial Personality Disorder (Sociopath)
Monday, January 24, 2011
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SAME THING HAPPENED TO ME!!
ReplyDeleteI think "cat head" needs to be a new verb. As in, I was seeing this woman for a while but then she cat headed me and it was over. Then again, you put it that way and sounds like a good thing...
ReplyDeleteI disagree. I think "cat head" is an excellent verbed noun. You think it might sound like a positive verbed noun? Seriously?
ReplyDeleteOnly in context. If a woman "cat heads" me I start to imagine all sorts of wonderful stuff.
ReplyDeleteHmm. How about "cat beheading" someone?
ReplyDeleteSlightly Disheveled, you seriously need to date within your species.
ReplyDelete