I've decided to fold up a twenty dollar bill and put it in my wallet next to the condom, because once again I would have gotten laid but didn't, this time I didn't because I needed twenty bucks I didn't have.
I think my problems with women stem from the fact that I'm in Springfield. All the women I know here are cartoons. Take my roommate Amy, for example. When she had her face rebuilt after her ex-husband tried to kill her, her surgeons were very skilled indeed - too skilled. And her body is a caraciture of a beautiful female body as well; she's a few pounds overweight but very shapely, with a thin waist. She reminds me of the receptionist in the old '70s TV show taxi, except she's brunette, not blonde. That itself is a cartoonish coincidence because Amy drives a cab.
I mentioned Tami, who had been staying with me for a while because her husband, who is an alien, was fighting with her.
"Yeah" you're thinking, "now it's aliens on slashdot. McGrew's either writing rediculous fiction or he's out of his mind."
Well, it gets even crazier. She's 42, and every nerd knows the signifigance of forty two.
Her husband is from Peru, rather than Alpha Centauri as most nerds might expect an alien to be from, here on a green card. The fellow is 27 years old, which has Tami often wondering if he just married her to get into this country. I think "duh, wondering?" No way in hell I'd gone after a fat forty two year old woman when I was 27! Hell, most fat forty two year olds turn me off now, and I'm 55 (shut up, you Hagar fans, I can too drive).
Well, anyway, I was feeling a little better Friday afternoon, but maybe not quite well enough for the copious amounts of alcohol the girls were planning on pouring down my throat. It was a good thing, too because by late evening it was very hard to drive.
I should have told the girls "no thanks" but I'm a fool when it comes to women, even married women like Tami who I wouldn't fuck, or Amy who won't get it on with me because she's in love with her boyfriend and besides, I'm a geezer. When I do something stupid and someone asks me "are you addicted to crack or something?" I say "yeah, the crack between a woman's legs!"
So of course when Amy called and said that she'd had some dumbass from New York get a round trip cab ride to St Louis and back, and left her a huge tip as well and she and Tami were partying at Farleys come on down I did. One beer wouldn't hurt too much...
She didn't tell me how huge the tip had been. Amy had been looking for a car, but that was going to be after she got her nursing license back. Well, she paid off the child support and got the license back, and put five hundred bucks down on a 1997 Blazer, which she still owed five hundred on. It started sprinkling; freezing raid had been forecast.
One of the hookers I knew had seen Amy in the bar, and sold her the Blazer. The lady who sold her the car was way out of my price range. Hell, I've gotten laid for the price of a Budweiser befpre, I'm not paying that much even if I could afford it (and I couldn't anyway). Well, this one is one of the few I know who has a pimp, maybe that's why they get pimps. Maybe the pimps get bigger fees for them, I don't know.
But any way, the hooker had a job lined up so after a beer Amy and Tami wanted me to drive them and the pimp to the blazer so Amy could pick it up. He was a personable fellow, I liked the guy. So Tami and I drop Amy and the pimp off at the car and go to my house, where Amy is supposed to meet us. We stop and get beer on the way, and Amy shows up a while later with her new car and a bottle of her favorite cheap rotgut.
Amy's boyfriend had gotten tickets to the comedy club, and Tami had talked them into letting her go along. So about seven o'clock they go to Tami's to put on their makeup and whatever. I cook and eat a hamburger with thoughts of trolling the bars in search of mindless sex. Yeah, I write bad, don't I? Do you have visions of a hamburger that has thoughts of trolling the bars for mindless sex? "Time flies when you're having fun" but why would you want to time flies, especially when you're having fun? Give me that fly's water!
Before I could get out the door, it knocks and its bell rings. Amy and Tami came in. Amy looks mad and Tami's in tears. The spaced alien had locked her out; well, she had keys but he'd pushed a couch up against the door. All the lights were out, and it was obvious that he had a woman in there. Tami had been ready to kick the window in and commit the kind of felony that would have had her in prison for life, but Amy had talked her out of it. "I just want to catch the son of a bitch in the act. I have to. It's the only way I can let him go!"
"Damn", I'm thinking, "it's been so peaceful all week!" It looked like I was going to have two roommates again. They composed themselves, fixed up their makeup the best thay could, and left for the comedy club. I was a bit inebriated so I took off walking south, to the bar on Stanford. It was a good think I left the car, because it was slick.
The place was full of women, and I nerdily couldn't think of anything to say to any of them. I drank two beers and walked home. It was still raining, and the sidewalks were slick. I managed to get home without falling on my ass. About twenty minutes later the doorbell rings; it's Amy's boyfriend. "Are Amy and Tami here?" he asks.
"Huh?" I say. "No, I thought they were with you."
"They were, they were supposed to meet me at your house. And I went all the way home," he said (he's a NEWT), "and fed the dog and a few other things, and drove all the way down here!" I live at the south end of town. "Where the hell are they?" He was angry.
"They'll be here", I said. "Harley locked Tami out, they don't have anywhere else to go."
He has a little pot so we hit his hitter while we waited. They eventually showed up, we hit a few more and Amy went home with him. Tami and I drank, she crying on my shoulder until I was nearly ready to pass out, past the wee hours. It was probably only an hour or so from sunup when I went to bed.
Tami woke me up before nine wanting to start drinking again. I've never been a morning drinker and don't intend to start now... oh shit. Shades of my late grandfather on my mother's side, who, when my uncle installed a bathroom at Grandpa's house said "I did without indoor plumbing all my life and I don't need it now" and continued using his outhouse. Just shoot me now, ok?
By noon I let her convince me to go to the gas station for liquid refreshments. The steps were iced up and she slid down them on her ass. Amy and her BF would have to be back, as Amy had left her Blazer at my house. Sure enough they were there not long after, he dropping her off before going home.
Amy's had a rough life. After her ex tried to kill her she wound up in another abusive relationship that lasted for nine years, before the poor lunatic hung himself about a year ago. Yes, you've heard the expression "to die for" and yes, Amy's a really good looking broad. Too bad she's nutty as a fruitcake, but with the life she's lived it would be hard to remain sane.
At any rate, her ex is under suicide watch at the jail, and Amy's thinking of the poor bastard who hung himslef last year, she blames herself for his death and wants to do what she can to keep her first husband from repeating it. So she'd found that visiting hours were at 3:00, and I said I'd go up there with her. I wanted to visit Linda anyway, who's there for selling pot to America's KGB Secret Police.
If you have secret police you live in a police state. Welcome to the USSA.
We didn't make it to the courthouse; she made a phone call and found you had to be on a list, and she wasn't. I should call the jail and see if Linda's put me on her list.
So they decide they want to go to Farley's. Tami's not dressed (that didn't come out right; I mean she thought she wasn't presentable) and Amy wants to leave, Tami's going to ride with me. We get to Farley's and Amy buys me a beer, and needs to break a hundred. They don't have enough money in the till to break it, so she decides to go next door to the gay bar to cash her hundred. Tami and another woman I didn't know, Shawna, go with her. They're supposed to slam a shot and come back.
So I'm sitting in the bar by myself waiting for these damned women to come back from the gay bar, and there's no way I'm going in there. I hate it when some gayboy hits on me; it's happened at straight bars before and there's no way in hell I'm visiting the bar next door.
They come in and try to talk me into going to the gay bar and insist they're going. I get mad; damn it, they asked me to Farley's and no sooner do I get there than they leave. I tell them I'm going home, with a few choice expletitives. I mean, Jesus, ask someone to go to a bar with you and leave for a place you know full well they wouldn't go to dead as soon as he shows up, that's about as rude as you can get. So I go home.
It's only about 6:00 but I'd only had a few hours sleep the night before, and I'm not 25 any more, you know? I cook some sort of food or other and go to bed. I'm sleeping and the phone rings; it's Amy. Her new car is driving really wierd and making really strange noises and she wants me to come get her. She'd been supposed to meet her boyfriend at five, but had been drinking with Shawna at one of her friends'.
So I go to get her, and of course she's all upset that she'd forgotten about the date with her boyfriend, and was upset about her ex-husband, and is pretty much a mess. The streets are slicker than snakeshit. We stop by the gas station and I spend the last of my cash on gas, beer, whiskey, and a pizza. We go to my house and I call her boyfriend for her, leaving a voicemail explaining about the car breaking down and asking him to come get her. "She really needs you, man," I say.
I sit there sipping beer and the phone rings again. "Hi, Mom!" she exclaims. Turns out it wasn't really her mother, but an older friend of hers closer to my age. They make plans to go find a 3:00 bar and want me to drive. It's slick as hell and I've been drinking a little (but I think my BAC was less than
I met "Mom," who it turned out was Shawna. She was real nice, and Amy bought our drinks while some 21 year old stranger bought hers. Must be nice to be a damned good looking woman. We dropped Shawna off at home and went home ourselves, she crashing on the couch and me in the back room.
I was awakened by the doorbell. I figured it was Tami, locked out of her house again. I was mistaken; it was Julia (not her real name), my thin, good looking hooker friend with the enormous fake boobies. She'd been flat chested in high school, her family had money, and they had silicone implants put in.
She'd run out of gas, she said, and was in trouble with her boyfriend because she should have had half a tank and it was on empty. "I'm desperate, I'll suck your dick for twenty dollars!"
One reason I haven't done it with her is because she charges too much; she normally wants fifty for missionary position and that's too much. Hell, "Cassie" (not her real name either) is only 27 and I only pay her twenty. Julia's in her forties (but looks damned good for her age).
I'm not into getting my cock sucked, because although it's better than nothing I'm a little bit too well endowed for a good cocksucking. But I could have gotten laid had I had the twenty in my pocket. I give her two bucks for 2/3 a gallon of gas, which should have gotten her home to the north end trailor she and her boyfriend share.
The poor sod doesn't know his girlfriend is a prostitute. I wonder what he'd think to know that the mouth he's kissing had some other guy's dick in it an hour before he stuck his tongue in it?
While she's there, Amy's boyfriend calls wanting to talk to her, and he's pissed. Someone had told him they saw Amy leaving Farley's with some other guy. I can't get the unconscious Amy to wake up and tell him I'll have her call when she wakes up.
Julia fell and hit her head on the way to the car, got up, and drove off. I went back to bed.
I was awakened by the door and yelling. Amy was in there arguing with her boyfriend. I went back to sleep. When I got up I woke her up and asked if they were still together; apparently so, someone had been lying to him. She went back to sleep.
The doorbell rang; it was Julia again, still looking for gas money. I called a few friends asking if they wanted a hooker, but nobody was horney and not broke. So I guess now I'm a pimp, albeit a very unsucessful one. I thought maybe somebody at Farley's might be able to "help her out" so we went up there. It looked like it wasn't open yet, so I got out to see while she sat in the car. I fell on my ass and skinned my hand. It wasn't open, even though it normally opens at 7:00 but the sidewalks were still slick as hell, even though the streets were mostly OK by then. We went back to my house, she got in her boyfriend's car and drove home.
As I was getting ready to taka a shower and brush my teeth, the phone rang. It was Brian. Farley's had opened, he was there, , come on up and have a beer. I was going to go there anyway, I still had his jacket and old phone, so I said "sure."
As I was getting out of the shower it rang again. It was Crazy Debbie, what was I doing?
"Getting out of the shower, I'm headed to Farley's for a beer." A seventy five cent beer; I only had three or four bucks. "Want to come along?" What the fuck is wrong with me? Oh yeah - I haven't been laid in a while. Duh!
So I go to the hotel she and the other crazies live in, and sit in the car for ten minutes until it gets cold, since I can hardly knock on her door because she lives with her boyfriend. No Debbie. So I go on up to Farley's, get a beer, and give Brian his jacket back.
The phone rings - it's Debbie. "Where are you?" I told her I'd been there, I'd be back in fifteen minutes "and this time watch for me, ok?" I get her and this time she gets in the car, asking who had answered the phone when she'd called Saturday. I told her I was drinking with married Tami, she'd answered the phone while I was on the toilet.
We leave for my house, as she's got a wet coat that needs to go in the dryer. We're making out in the kitchen, my dick's starting to get hard, and I say let me put your coat in the dryer and we'll get comfortable.
Amy starts snoring. Debbie remarks that I'm a player, that I have all these girlfriends...
Damn! I have too many girlfriends. They all keep cockblocking each other.
I'll never get laid.
Offtopic Update 12/11/7
The beginning of this journal mentioned that I live in a cartoon city; well, a couple of weeks ago, the power plant here in Springfield blew up. I tried to find the original story doing a Google search but it appears to be too old to find.
At any rate, there was a huge explosion and a fire at one of the three generators.
I noticed an editorial cartoon about it today. Note the supberb artistry; Renfrow's image in the cartoon looks just like the photo on this page; Renfrow is the one on the right, partially in front of the giant check.
I don't know who the spokesman was in the cartoon, but Gail Simpson is an alderman here. I assume her brother in law is Homer.
And you all thought I was full of shit, talking about aliens and all!
It wasn't Taxi with the georgeous receptionist, it was WKRP in Cincinnatti. Unlike Jennifer Marlowe, Amy is a brunette with brown eyes.