My ‘friend’ Ned* (Yeah, I won’t be calling him a friend anymore…) called me last night. I worked with him my first go-around at Guitar Center, I made friends with him and his wife. When they went out of town, I took care of their pets for them. When they moved from Aliso Viejo to Seattle, I drove from Escondido to Aliso Viejo daily to take care of their evil cat. He offered me a job here, and a place to stay until I found an apartment. Shortly after I moved here, he and his wife moved to the east coast, and again, I watched their place and their pets for them. Before they moved, they gave me a couch and a microwave.
So Ned called last night under the pretense that he hadn’t talked to me in a while, and wanted to see how things were going post GC. His voice sounded funny, but I couldn’t quite place what was wrong. Something just seemed…off. All was revealed when he started breathing kind of heavily and told me that he couldn’t stop thinking about me, and how often he fantasized about coming into the other room while I was sleeping on the couch and waking me up by sticking his dick in my mouth.
…Yeah, I hung up on him. He tried calling me back a couple of times, but I don’t want to hear it.
Seriously, WTF? WTF WTF WTF?
Getting a new couch has been moved to the top of my buying priorities list.
*Names have been changed to protect the guilty except from those investigative souls who take it upon themselves to dig through my journal archives.