Well, the neighbour situation has finally gone bad. Extremely bad. Aw well, we had a good run.
Around Christmas I liked my next door neighbour; in fact, he was my first human case study in The Nice Girl Project experimental phase. I have never slept with him since. In fact since then, I have had absolutely zero interest in him. The sex was average. That means I forget what it was like. If it's amazing, I remember, and if it's horrible, I remember, but I literally can't tell you one detail of how things went that magical night in December. The only thing I remember is he has a nipple ring, (weird), and he's hairier than a muskox in the middle of an Arctic storm. After that I started dating the minor and my neighbour was seeing someone, so we didn't really talk much. It was slightly awkward, but so was talking, so I was happy to cap our hallway discussions at "How are you?". About a month ago we started talking again, and this quickly turned into our neighbourly old set-up where him, his roomie and myself wander back between each others apartments and hang out on a regular basis. It's lovely, like an episode of Friends. Except, remember that episode where Ross and Rachel break up and you want to cry and kill yourself? It's more like that one.
This past weekend I was hanging out with my neighbour's roomie and neighbour was on his way back. He phoned me en route and said "Hey...I'm bringing a girl back to hang out, so I just want to make sure you're not all over me...if you want to be all over my roommate, please, show him the love, go ahead, but just make sure you aren't all over me." Wait. Hold up. Was I sending off my secret sexual muskox calling whistle again? The egos on men never cease to amaze me. This lovely neighbour of mine managed to offend me in so many ways, logarithmic equations are needed to understand them. Not only did this piece of work assume that I am so in need of his hairy, pierced physique that I am not able to contain myself even in the presence of stranger spectators, he also suggested that I move on to his best friend/roommate and that would be entirely fine, like I'm some kind of hooker or something. Jesus Fuck. If I got paid every time I banged someone I'd be a fucking millionaire, get a clue asshole. In a nutshell, this phone call did not sit well with me. Did I mention I was drunk? Minor detail, but it explains why I reacted like this: there was a bowl of sugar-coated sour candies on the coffee table. Ironically, I had given my neighbours the candies the day before. I took the bowl of sour candies and dispersed them evenly on his bed sheets, under the comforter, being careful to ensure that every granule of sugar made its way into the bed. I lay the comforter over it and hoped that him and his date would have a hot, sweaty makeout session on the bed before realizing that melted sour candies had become one with his Ralph Lauren sheets. I went home.
The next day I got a nasty text message from him saying I was some kind of douchebag and to fuck myself. Then another "I will never forget what you did." What this guy for realsies? He'll NEVER forget what I did? Me neither because it was hilarious, but save the "I Know What You Did Last Summer" tone for the PO-lice, freakazoid. This nasty text message convo went well into the night. I told him he was an arrogant fuckwad and he told me I was negative and bad energy. You would be too around arrogant fuckwads, trust me. So I told him I don't want to talk to him anymore. Delete. 12 hours later I see him in the elevator. Fuck.
Okay, that's only half of the neighbour story. Remember my upstairs neighbour? I slept with his hot best friend months ago, then a couple of months ago upstairs neighbour tried repeatedly and aggressively to get me in the sack. It was exhausting to hang around him, so I didn't do it often, but that smart little devil knew that eventually, my blood alcohol level would be so high, I would be powerless against his un-stellar advances. I pity fucked the poor guy once, and that was that. He smells like smoke and has a straw up his nose more often than in his mouth...there's nothing I find appealing about this one. Which, in true male form, makes me irresistible to him. I've managed to keep him at bay, but then bumped into the hot best friend about a month ago and hooked up with him. He's still yummy, but I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings so lied to my upstairs neighbour and let on that nothing happened.
Then about 3 weeks ago I was hanging out with upstairs neighbour and his friend. All was going fine until his friends gradually left and there we were, alone. It was a ticking time bomb. I knew that in no time I would have to be beating away his unsexy ass, so I made for the exit, much to his shagrin. The next morning I woke up to a text message from him: "You told my friends that all I ever do is throw myself on you and you're not interested in me? I'm done with you, nice knowing you." Hm. Now that was a thinker. I don't remember telling his friends that but it was entirely possible. And I agreed, it wasn't a very nice thing to say to his friends. But bigger picture, was this some kind of incredible newsflash? I'm not interested in him and he throws himself on me incessantly every time we're together, which ends when I finally manage to beat him off me and say the word "no" anywhere from 12 to 60 times. Hm. Perhaps the combination of cigarettes and cocaine causes amnesia. They should really put that on the package.
I didn't have any kind of a response because frankly I wasn't interested in being his friend, and I had more interest in having sex with a celery stick than him. I didn't respond or give two shits. But for the next hour he texted me and told me I was a slut among other things. A slut? Do people over 12 still say that? Isn't any single person over 18 a "slut?" Since just 5 days prior I witnessed him doing lines of coke off a bathroom floor, I didn't take much offense to him thinking that I was the dirty bird here.
So there we have it. In the course of a week I've been called a slut by one neighbour, and told to fuck myself by another. Now where the fuck am I going to go when I need to borrow a cup of Stoli? Assholes.
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