a womans rant (timekilla)

[mustynutz]

It began innocently, with my friend Frank and I going to see his boyfriend's band. After the show was over, Frank helped carry out the band's equipment, while I stood inside the bar waiting for him to come back. I lit up a cigarette and stared at the side door because I wanted to go home. A scrawny skate-punk kid with long greasy hair and faded black jeans was leaning against the bar, also looking for the person that he came with.

"You waiting for someone?" he asked.

No, I was standing there because I wanted to know what it was liked to stand around with a skinny little shit next to me.

"Yeah," I said.

"Your boyfriend?"

"No, my best friend."

"Oh. I'm waiting for my best friend too," he said.

He shuffled his feet, trying to look and me without looking at me. Frank, hurry up, come on, I kept thinking. I noticed that I was inhaling very deeply and I finished my cigarette in sixteen seconds.

"That'll kill you," he said.

"Yeah, if I'm lucky it will," I said, as I hoped that I would die at that exact moment.

As soon as I was getting ready to leave, Frank walked back into the bar. "Sorry, I was, well, you know."

"Hey Frank," the little skater said.

"Brian, what's up? I didn't see you before. What's new man?"

Great. Fucking great. They know each other. The world was coming down, and I was in the middle of it. Now, I would run the risk of having to see this junior shit head again.

"Did you meet Brian? He's in my communications class at school," Frank said.

"No Frank, but I guess I did now, didn't I?"

I was pissed. This little fucker was in the same place I was every day, and now I would definitely see him around. I tried to put on my best, "Yes, I care about who you are" face, and smiled painfully as he complimented my clothes and hair.

"Frank, can we go now, I'm tired," I said.

"Maybe I'll see you around, pretty girl," Brian said.

I muttered under my breath, "God I hope not," and flashed him a fake smile.

At first, I didn't see him anywhere, but then Frank told me that he was asking about where my classes were. Frank asked me if I liked him, and I said, "No, don't tell him."

But he did. So Brian started showing up outside of my classes, trying to act like Don Juan while I was trying not to vomit. The conversations were terrible. Brain tried desperately to be smooth and I fought to pay attention.

"Are you afraid of zombies?" he asked me one day.

"No, zombies are fucking gay. They can't run, and when they do try to move quickly, their arms and legs fall off. And, oh, they aren't real," I said.

"Oh. But they're scary," he said.

"Dude, they don't even exist! How can something that doesn't exist be scary?"

"They could be real."

"Well, show me a zombie and I'll believe you. And if you do show me a zombie, I'll punch it in the face, and its head will fall off, because they're fucking weak. I have to go to class," I said, tossing my cigarette.

"Fucking zombies. I can't believe he just asked me about zombies. Is he twelve? What a retard," I said as I walked into the building, not knowing that he was right behind me.

"I'm not a retard, and I'm not twelve. I'm scared of them," he said, tears nearly welling up in his eyes.

Since I really don't like hurting people's feelings, I was a little upset, but I didn't really worry about it. I figured that he wouldn't bother me again, so it was worth it. I thought that maybe he would understand that I thought he was a reject.

Brian was another person who thought he was smarter than me, and he started to follow me around campus. He would stand in the hallway while I was at work, and when I would step out to make copies or pick up the mail, I would see him ducking into corners. It took me a while to realize what he was doing, but the more frequently I saw him, the more I understood what was happening.

So, I turned the tables. I found out where his classes were and went and stood outside of the room. When he would come out, I would scuttle away, making sure that he saw me. Then I would talk very loudly, saying, "Look, there he is officer! That's the guy who's following me around."

Brian stopped showing up, but on the day of his last final, two years after we had met, he made sure to find me. He stood in front of me, his lower lip quivering, and said, "You led me on, you fucking tease."

"Brian...we're from two different worlds," I said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's just that, well, Master wouldn't approve," I said.

"Your master?"

"Yes, the Zombie Master," I said.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I belong to a cult that worships zombies. I know that you hate them and my Master would disapprove of our relationship. If he knew we were talking now...."

"What? What would happen?" he asked.

"He would...Oh my God!" I shouted, "Brian...run!"

He looked over his shoulder, and quite coincidentally, there was an elderly gentleman who was shuffling down the hallway. Panic spread over his face, and I swear there was a urine stain spreading on his pants. After a small gasp, he took off down the hallway, nearly ripped the door off the hinges and knocked over a few people as he tried to get away from the "Zombie Master."

Brian never spoke to me again...I wonder why?

 

[mustynutz]

I've met a lot of fucked up people in my twenty-five years of life. Most of these people I met in college, and most of them disappeared from my life not long after graduation. Thankfully, John was one of them.

John was an interesting fellow. He was short and thick through his midsection, he parted his hair down the middle and wore wire framed glasses. His wardrobe consisted of flannel shirts, t-shirts, faded black jeans and flannel shirts. On campus, he was the resident anime freak, and would often be heard trying to start a "Sub not dub!" chant in the courtyard.

He was in most of my English classes and we worked in the tutoring lab together. At first, he seemed like the stereotypical misunderstood English major. Basically, he was an unstylish Emo kid who was obsessed with video games, knives and fucking up the campus' computer network.

Somehow, I got placed in a group with him in one of our courses. I reluctantly gave him my email address, and soon after, my inbox was flooded with forwarded emails and updates about our project. He suggested that we use AIM so that we could talk about the assignment easier. After a lot of convincing on his part, I gave him my screen name.

The messages moved from the group work to more personal matters. I became his shoulder to cry on, and I didn't really mind. He didn't bother much with me at school because I was only there for classes and didn't hang around the campus after I was finished.

Then he told me that he liked me, and that there were things he wanted...no....needed to tell me. I told him that I had a boyfriend, which was true, and that I was flattered but that there was no way anything was ever going to happen between us. He said that he understood, but there was something I had to know. At that point, he failed to tell me what it was.

It was a Saturday morning. I opened my inbox to find an email from him titled, "The things I need to get off my chest."

I clicked on it. He explained that he was five thousand years old and that his true form was that of a regal silver dragon. He had sex with his cousin because she was his soulmate and that they had been together in their previous lives. His aunt and uncle had a restraining order placed against him. He couldn't sleep because in his dreams, a shapeshifting werewolf tackled his wife (his cousin) and killed her, and if the werewolf touched him in the dream, he would die and would not be able to protect the earth as he was called to do by the gods. The last line read, "IF U TELL NE1 I'LL KILL YOU!!!!!!11"

I decided I should believe him, about the killing me part, that is. But seriously, did he think I wouldn't tell anyone? This was too good not to tell my friends about. I ended up telling only one person, my best friend Jaime.

When he told me he couldn't go somewhere because he didn't have a car, I would silently laugh to myself and think, "Why don't you just fly there?" In class, when he decided to go into his drive on the server and use some images for an assignment, I spotted some pictures of silver dragons. Again, I laughed and thought, "Are those your senior pictures from high school?"

One day, I walked into the office of the tutoring lab. He was sitting behind the desk carving the flesh off of his hands with a knife.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, trying to hide my disgust and concern for my safety.

"No."

"Where did you get that knife?" I asked.

"At the Renaissance Faire," he stated coolly.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm just peeling off some dry skin," he said casually, drawing some blood.

I sat down at one of the two computers in the office, signed onto AIM, and started working on one of my papers. A few moments later, my friend Jaime walked in and sat at the other computer.

I received an IM. The conversation went something like this:

Jaime: OMG like WTF is he doing?
Pentameter: I'm clueless. He's a fucking freak!
Jaime: Maybe he should just fly away!
Pentameter: HAHAHAHA! He should fly into the sun and become engulfed in flames.
Jaime: Oh fuck...we can't laugh at the same time or else he'll know something's up.
Pentameter: Right on. Hey, I'm pretty tired. I'm "dragon" my ass.
Jaime: Fuck you! Don't make me laugh.
Pentameter: I'm going to fuck my cousin. He's my soulmate.
Jaime: Yeah, watch out for those shapeshifters. They're...shifty.
Pentameter: Fuck! Stop laughing so that I can.
Jaime: Gimme a second.
Pentameter: You know, after 5000 years of life I still can't come up with a thesis statement?
Jaime: Last night I burped and I burned Dan's face.
Pentameter: Oh God! I have to sign off before I pee my pants!

Right after I signed off, a few students came into the lab for tutoring. Our unspoken rule was that if anyone was working on an assignment for class, the people who were fucking around tutored the students.

A girl came into the office and asked, "Do you guys work here?"

Dead silence. Finally, I answered with a "yes."

"Can you help me with my paper?"

"Um, he will," I said as I pointed to him.

After he shot a thousand tiny knives at me with his super dragon skills, he reluctantly stood up and tutored the girl, who I felt very sorry for. Jaime took the next person who came in, and then naturally, it was my turn if someone else happened to stop by for help.

John finished filling out the required paperwork and took his place behind the desk as I continued diligently working on my assignment.

Then he decided to start "talking to himself."

"It would be nice if SOME people around here would do SOME work."

"Boy, it would be really great if I could use a computer so that I could get MY work done."

"Wow, it must be awesome to get paid to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!"

I promised myself when he started that I wouldn't break down and tell him to go and fuck himself with a cucumber. When he bitched, I sat there and typed away, trying not to pay attention to one word he said.

"If Dr. Miller doesn't bring me the rest of the things she wants me to fill out, I'm going to perform an abortion on her with a rusty coat hanger myself."

What. The. Fuck. I probably wouldn't have been so upset if I didn't think he was being completely serious.

"John, what did you just say?" I asked.

"I'm sure you heard what I said, or were you too involved in your 'work?'"

"Listen, dick. There's just some shit that isn't funny. What you said is not funny. At all."

"Whatever, cunt."

"If I were you, I wouldn't shoot my mouth off too much. You might burn the place down, if you know what I mean," I said.

After that, it was a brutal torrent of cursing and screaming. The words, "fuck," "cunt," "dick," and "whore" were said no less than three thousand times each. Poor Jaime just stood there, unable to say anything. We were so loud that the priest in the office next door came over to see what was going on. After I explained to him that it started with a comment that was made, he asked me what it was that made me so upset.

 

[mustynutz]

"I really don't feel like repeating it," I said.

"Is it that bad?" he asked.

"It's just something I don't want to repeat."

"I see."

Basically, the priest threw him out and told us that he was going to see Dr. Miller about him during the week. As I walked back over to the computer, I started flapping my arms up and down. We both started to cry with laughter.

Jaime looked at me with tears in her eyes, and said, "I guess that made his whole day go up in flames."


My old job totally sucked ass. Dislocated workers who needed retraining would come into my office, clueless as to how to start their lives over again. I understood the problems these people had, but most of them really didn't give a fuck and just wanted to collect their unemployment a little longer.

One day, an older gentleman came into my office looking for a little direction. As we stood there talking, I realized how tiny he was. We were completely eye-to-eye, and the only man I've ever been eye level with was my brother when he was ten years old. His tiny little wire-framed glasses sat on his delicate nose. They were so small, they could have been a child's. Everything about him was petite.

He was a nice guy. Very friendly and talkative, and always had something interesting to say. But there was something about him that just wasn't right. Sometimes our conversations would be so odd that I would wonder if there were any truth to them at all. For example:

"Miguel told me he was sad last night," he said.

"Who's Miguel?" I asked.

"My parrot. He told me that his girlfriend broke up with him," he said.

"Your parrot has a girlfriend?" I asked.

"Of course! Whose doesn't?"

After a while, I noticed him starting to change. His hair, which was silver when we first met, was now a dark, rich brown. He replaced his Pony sneakers with Nikes, and he also started sporting a new leather jacket. He began standing so close to me that I felt as though I should ask him if he wanted to sit on my lap. I was forced into the corner numerous times, with my back literally against the wall.

His visits became more frequent, and I became more uncomfortable. The other people who worked in my office would become tense when he came in. After hearing some of the things he said and witnessing the way he acted towards me, they were worried that he was a complete psycho. I tried to pretend that he didn't bother me, when in reality, he did.

"Maybe we can do something sometime, I mean, if you don't have anything better to do," he said.

"Well, I am pretty busy. I don't have a lot of time to myself, and when I do have time, I usually spend it with my large, angst-filled Nazi Skinhead boyfriend," I replied.

"Oh."

"Yeah, he is something. He gets so angry when other guys try to mess with me. It can get pretty ugly," I said, snickering.

"Sorry I can't stay, but I have to get over to the studio," he said. He fumbled his art supply box around in his hand, and nearly tripped on the plant near the doorway. He looked nervous, and that made me smile.

Nicky, a student who worked in our office between her classes, sat at her desk laughing. "That guy is such a dork," she said.

"Yeah, no kidding. At least he isn't bothering you," I said.

We were silent for a few moments, when I said, "Nicky?"

"Yeah," she said.

"His old balls were near me. When he was standing there, they were right in my face."

"Oh my God, that is hilarious. Old balls!"

"Oh, sick...and those stringy gray pubes," I said.

At night, I would devise plans that I thought would make him go away forever. Even though I told him terrible things about my "boyfriend," he still kept coming back. Either he really didn't care, or he was even more of an ass than I had initially thought. I hung pictures of my boyfriend all around my desk, making sure that I put them right in his line of sight. I borrowed my grandmother's engagement ring and wore it everyday, waving my hands around so that the light was sure to catch the diamond. How could he not catch on? I was sure that by this point, it was getting through to him.

But it didn't.

Right before Christmas, he made his usual visit. "Hey, are you going to be here for a while? I got something for you while I was visiting my son in Florida."

"Yeah, I'll be here for a little bit," I said.

Instantly, my stomach started doing flip-flops. I was never so nervous in my life. He seemed harmless, but how could I know?

"What the hell is his problem?" Nicky asked.

"I have no idea, but if he tries anything funny, I'm going to flip out."

I was so lost in my fury that when he returned, I didn't notice him standing in the doorway for about five or six minutes. When I looked up, I could only imagine how twisted my face became when I saw the tiny little bag he was holding. Motherfucker.

"I brought you something," he said, smiling like a little boy who just picked some flowers for his mother.

"Listen to me you dirty old slimy fucking cock-sucking asshole. I don't want any of your shit. You're a cock smoker. I hate you, I hate everything about you, and I want you to get the fuck out of my sight before I shove a thirty foot spike up your puckered old asshole!"

"Luce?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I was lost in thought. Listen, I can't accept whatever it is you have there," I said, in reality.

"But I can't do that, I bought this for you in Florida. If you don't want it, throw it away, but I can't take it back," he said.

"Seriously, I'm not allowed to accept gifts from our clients," I said.

"You don't have to tell anyone. Just open it, please?" he begged.

No words. I had no words, so I just sat there, pretending as though he didn't exist. Eventually, I caved in and opened the bag. Inside was quite possibly the gayest thing I had ever seen. It was a little cow that screamed, "MOOOOOOOOO! WHOOOO HOOOO! WHOOOO HOOOO! I'M GOING CRAZY!"

"Wow...this is um...funny," I said.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"I love it. Thank you," I said.

With a big bright smile, he walked out of the office. What he didn't know is that as soon as he turned around, I chucked the insane cow directly into the garbage. Nicky laughed, and I told her to shut up before I went out there and kicked her ass.

Out of everyone who had ever pursued me, Old Balls was the most delusional. He was fifty years old, which was close to my mom's age, and he had a son who is twenty-six. Hypothetically speaking, if we got married, I would have a stepson who was older than me. It was not right, and as hard as I tried, I couldn't figure out why he thought I would be interested in him.

When I told my mother, she thought it was hysterical, but I didn't think that it was funny. "I can't believe some old fucker bought you a gift," she said.

"Believe it, he's fucking wacky," I said.

After Christmas, he stopped by to see me. I could see him checking around for the cow.

"Where's the cow I got you?" he asked.

"It's in my desk," I answered.

He looked down for a moment, and then slowly lifted his eyes as he asked, "Do you like me?"

What the fuck? I was completely lost. Hadn't I shown him that I didn't want him around? Weren't the pictures, the stories, and the engagement ring enough for him? Most normal people would have taken off after the first signs of disinterest, but this fucker didn't even get it.

"Let's go outside," I said.

I took a deep breath and said, "Look, I work here. I'm not supposed to become friendly with our clients. It really makes me uncomfortable when you come in to see me. I could get into serious trouble with my boss, and I think it's best if we keep our relationship professional."

Finally, everything I wanted to say to him was out.

"It doesn't have to be sexual," he said.

"What? I didn't mean anything like that at all. It just has to be a professional relationship. Nothing more," I said, and then I turned around and walked back into my office.

A few months later, he stopped by to get his transcripts and to tell me that he was moving to Florida. I pulled his file up on the computer, printed it out, signed it and sealed it in an envelope. Before he left, he turned to me and said, "Hey, maybe you can come and visit me some time."

"I don't think that's going to happen," I said.

"So I guess you don't want to see me anymore?" he asked.

"You would be correct," I said sharply.

He snatched the envelope from my hands and stormed over to the door, which he gripped tightly. Before walking out into the hallway, he looked and me, screamed, "Bitch!" and slammed the door behind him.

I was never so happy in my life.

 

[mustynutz]

Frankie was your typical big dumb Italian Stallion - big on brawn and looks, small on brains. His personality was really like no other. He was and still is a show-stopper and is also a very talkative guy. Everyone loved him and wanted to be around him. Being one of our local sports stand-outs, I was completely charmed and impressed by his high social standing in my small town. Plus, I was eighteen and he was twenty-two. I was a victim of Schoolgirl Syndrome.

His father was the one who made the match. He came into where I worked, noticed me right away and said, "You're a nice Italian girl. I think my Frankie would like you. I need to set the two of you up." He lightly slapped the side of my face twice, pinched my cheek and then winked.

A few weeks later, we were dating. It wasn't an exclusive thing, since I had another guy I was seeing and he had another girl. I was fine with that. I guess I liked him, but not enough to cut the other guy I was seeing loose.

I don't even remember how long we were together, but I do remember the precise moment things started to fall apart. He took me down to his school for a weekend during my first semester of college. What I didn't know is that his girl, Yuki, was going to be around.

She was not pleased with my presence. At all.

During my stay, I watched Yuki smash her face off of a cast iron stove when Frankie told her we were going out for dinner. The next day, as we watched the football team practice, Yuki came up over the top of the hill, spotted me and Frankie, then dramatically threw herself over the edge, rolling down the entire length.

"Dude, are you sure you guys aren't serious?" I asked.

"No, we're just dating. It's a loose kind of thing. Besides, I like you better," he said.

It seemed like they were pretty serious to me, and after the course of the next few weeks, I stopped calling him and when I stopped returning his calls, he stopped calling me. There were no hard feelings, which to me meant that apparently I didn't have any real emotional tie to him.

Years went by. I was with another guy and he was married to Yuki. It was Easter Sunday, and on my way out of church, I spotted him.

"Heeeeeeey!" he shouted.

"What's goin' on man?" I asked.

"Nothing. So what's new? Tell me what's up? How are you? Do you have a boyfriend? How's school?"

"Everything's fine," I answered as I continued on my way.

"Heeeey...are you mad at me?" he asked.

"No. I have no problem with you," I said.

"Good. I know that things kind of ended pretty shitty between us. I mean, I could have handled things a little better," he said.

"I thought things ended just right," I said.

"Oh, well, I just want you to know that I always loved you."

"Ok. Well, take it easy!"

After that, every time I saw him, he would throw his arms around me and kiss me and hug me and tell me that he loved me. I wasn't impressed.

A few months ago, I was going to a meeting when I heard someone calling my name across the courtyard. When I turned around, there was Frankie.

"Oh my God what are you doing here? Do you work here? Are you taking classes here? Oh my God you look...wow...just wow. I mean, you're even more beautiful than you were when you were younger. That's hard to do. So how are you?"

"I work here and I'm fine. I'll see you later. I have a meeting to go to and I'm already late," I said as curtly as possible.

"Ok, I'll see you around. I'm coaching the wrestling team so I'll be up here a lot. I love you!" he screamed as I walked away in a hurried pace.

About three weeks ago, I was sitting in my office when Frankie showed up at my door. His hair looked like it hadn't been washed in about a month, he had stubble that was close to qualifying for "beard" status and he was wearing holey sweatpants and a t-shirt that was covered in paint.

A little bit of small talk a little while later, he left. I stared blankly at my computer as I tried to absorb what had just happened, when my boss said, "There's another one who would probably like to be with you."

"Hell no. First, you know I have a boyfriend. Second, he looked like a friggin' bum. You don't come up to me dressed like shit and expect me to fall all over you. I used to date that guy and believe me, he's an idiot."

For the past two weeks, I had to supervise at our Alumni Phonathon. As I stood in the doorway greeting the volunteers, Frankie appeared.

"Oh my God I can't believe you're working tonight. Wow, you look beautiful, just beautiful. How are you? Are you going to be here all night? I just can't believe you're here, this is going to be awesome!" he said as he picked up a hoagie and crammed it into his face.

I sat down at the table and moved the divider so that I would be completely out of his line of sight, although it didn't really matter because he kept getting up to throw SweetTarts at me. About halfway through the night, I got up to have a cigarette, and he followed.

"Hey, can I bum one from you?" he asked.

"Yeah, you can have this one when I'm done," I said.

"But there will be nothing left to smoke," he said.

"Precisely," I answered as I took a mother drag.

"So what's new? Do you have a boyfriend? How are things? You know, every time I see you it just makes my day. I love you. You're beautiful. We should go out for a coffee tonight after we're done here."

"I don't think so," I said.

"Why not?"

"Why? Because you're coming on pretty strong, pal. Maybe if I were with a shitty guy, I would play with fire. This guy that I'm with isn't shitty. I'm not going to play games with him because I care about him too much. I'm sorry, I just think that we should just leave things the way they are," I said.

"I'm not coming on strong," he said.

"I beg to differ. Most of my friends don't hug and kiss me and tell me that I'm beautiful and that they love me. I just feel like there's an ulterior motive here. Besides, if the shoe were on the other foot, I wouldn't be pleased. By saying no to you, I'm being respectful towards him which is all that matters to me. And by the way, aren't you still married?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"So why are you asking me out for coffee?"

"Yuki's in Japan," he said.

"I'm sorry, but it isn't going to happen," I said as I put my cigarette out with disgust in the ashtray.

The night ended without incident, but Frankie showed up at work after that, asked me out to dinner, and called me at work. He showed up at my house twice.

Yesterday was the last straw.

I was laying down with a sinus headache that was making me both dizzy, nauseous and incredibly miserable. Frankie knows me, and he knew that when he saw my car, I was probably home and in my basement. I heard a knock on the door, so I put the hood up on my sweatshirt and went to answer it.

And there he was.

It's a mistake to repeatedly piss me off, and it's an even bigger mistake to piss me off when I'm tired, and the biggest mistake you can make is to piss me off when I'm already pissed, tired and extremely sick.

The first words out of my mouth were, "What don't you understand?"

"Huh?"

"Look, I told you that seeing you around is fine, but going out with you somewhere or hanging out with you at either one of our houses is crossing a line that I don't want to cross."

"I just wanted to see you," he said.

"Seriously, get out of here," I stated.

"Ok, so I guess you mean we can't hang out," he said.

"Yes, you guessed right. Tell your wife I said 'hello,' and give your daughter a kiss for me," I said.

Completely dejected, he gave me a light hug and walked around the side of my house. I walked upstairs and looked outside to make sure he was gone. He was sitting in his Jeep staring at the steering wheel. I went back downstairs and laid down.

This morning, when I went to put some bills in the mailbox, he left a note saying, and I quote: "I'm sorry if I made you angry. I'd like to make it up to you. We should go out for dinner."

All I can say is, "NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR!" I've been nothing but clear and candid with him. What is there not to understand? I really think that I handled this situation correctly...is it possible that he's that much of a moron?

There may be more to follow....