"No, that's what I said when you stole my debit cards," I replied. "But you stole my checks on top of that. Of course I'm gonna call the cops. You psycho stole $7000 from me!"
"If I have to go to jail, I'm going to lose my kids! DCF is gonna take them away from me! I can't live without my kids! If you press charges, I'm gonna kill myself!"
"Don't worry," I said. "Just admit everything. If you cooperate, they'll take it easy on you. You'll probably just get probation, or you'll have to pay me back or something. You're not gonna go to jail."
I was just lying to her to get her to confess everything to the detective. I wanted that bitch to go to jail so badly! I wasn't just mad about her stealing from me. My feelings were hurt, because she kept telling me she loved me, and then she just used me like that. And my pride was hurt, because she made a fool out of me. Now it was my turn to pay her back. And when someone fucks me over that bad, I get really vindictive.
Hussy went to the Sheriff station and admitted everything. She gave a full confession. Then the detective called me: "Did you tell this girl she's not going to jail if she admits everything?"
"Well, uhh, yeah. I didn't want her to run away," I said.
"You can't promise something like that. Check fraud is a serious crime. Each check she wrote is an automatic 1 year in jail. She wrote 8 checks, so she's going to jail for 8 years," the detective explained.
A few minutes later, after Hussy left the Sheriff station, she called me up, sobbing: "I'm not going to jail! I'm not losing my babies! I'm gonna kill myself! If you press charges I'll kill myself! I've tried to kill myself many times, but this time I'll really do it!" She was crying so hard, it was difficult to understand her.
I have a soft heart. I guess I'm what they call a bleeding heart liberal. When someone fucks me over, instead of feeling bad for myself, I end up feeling bad for them, because I think about what happened in their lives to make them the way they are. What got them to this point? If I went through what they went through, wouldn't I be at the same point now, doing the same things?
I wanted Hussy to go to jail for a bit. Maybe 6 months. Maybe even a year. But 8 years? Wow, that was harsh! Yeah, DCF would definitely take her kids away, and yeah, I really could see her kill herself over that. I didn't want to live with that guilt. So I called the detective back and told him to drop the charges.
Hussy and I didn't talk to each other for a few days, but she kept calling me over and over, asking me to forgive her, and that she loved me, and she wanted to make it up to me. A few days later I caved, and she starting coming over again, and we had sex two or even three times every day again. At that point I didn't know yet that she was still with her "ex" Dick, and that they were living in my duplex together.
Easter was coming up. I took Hussy to Walmart to pick out some clothes for her kids, and candy. We planned to spend Easter together. But then, the day before Easter, she said her parents were coming down from Ocala, and they were going to bring along some other relatives, and that they were all a bunch of rednecks who argued at family gatherings, and that I wouldn't enjoy being around them. So suddenly our plans were cancelled. I was all alone on Easter.
That really bummed me out. Easter isn't that big a deal to me. Being alone on Christmas or my birthday would have been a lot worse. But just the fact that, for the first time in my life, I was spending a major holiday all alone, really got to me. Up until now, I had spent every holiday with my parents, or my ex-wife Donna, or my ex-girlfriend Alice. But now Hussy totally left me hanging on a big holiday. I was depressed. I felt really alone.
I spent Easter playing around on Facebook. I stumbled across Hussy's Facebook page. I didn't even know she had one. On her page, she was posting in real time about her Easter. Her family had not come down from Ocala. That was just another one of her lies. In fact, she posted on her Facebook page how much she missed her family this holiday. Instead she was spending Easter with her own little family at home: Dick and the kids. That was the moment when I found out she had been lying to me for months, about having left her "ex" and being a single mother. None of it was true.
I was really upset. I got on a plane and flew to Europe for a few days. Hussy had been trying to come over the day after Easter, but I wouldn't answer her calls or texts. She got scared and asked me why I was ignoring her. I texted her that I had found out the truth about her and Dick living together in my house and that I wanted nothing to do with her anymore. We didn't talk to each other for a few months.
I wanted to get them out of my house. At first I was going to evict them, but apparently that takes a long time in Florida. So instead I just sold the duplex, with them in it, on Ebay. A real estate investor in New York bought it. I told him that the tenants were nothing but trouble, with criminal records and a history of domestic violence. He thanked me for the heads up and evicted them.
PLENTY OF FISH
"Online dating is just as murky and full of lemons as finding a used car in the classifieds."
Laurie Perry
Obviously the ad for a mutually beneficial relationship backfired. So I put a half-assed profile on Plenty Of Fish, or POF for short. It's a free dating website.
I ended up going out on a date with Maxine. She was 32, I think, and taller than I was. And she wore high heels when we met at a little Italian restaurant on Bonita Beach Road. She towered over me like a giant Amazonian. And she had broad, manly shoulders. She reminded me of a Football player. She probably could have given me a piggyback ride around the parking lot.
Over dinner, she told me about some of her weirder experiences on POF. She said one guy asked her if she was into taboo stuff.
"What do you mean by taboo?" she asked him.
"You know, tabooooo," he replied mysteriously.
"You mean like child pornography or something?"
"Sex with dogs," he said with a sparkle in his eyes.
As it turned out, he wasn't really looking for a date for himself, but for his dog. He asked Maxine if she'd like to have sex with his pitbull.
Apparently there's this whole big underground dog sex fetish scene. Maxine told me that this guy said there are dating websites out there that specialize in this sort of thing. People post profiles for their dogs, and then other people pick which dog they want to have sex with.
She told me that dogs can cum over and over again, without needing a break inbetween, like men do. And she described different dog breeds' penises to me.
"Uhmm, you know WAY too much about having sex with dogs," I said.
"Oh, I just asked that guy a lot of questions," she replied and laughed.
After dinner we went back to my place and talked for hours. We were sitting on my living room couch, and Maxine was smoking weed. She lived in Naples and managed some sort of charity for low income families in Immokalee.
By 2 am she was so high, she said she couldn't drive anymore. She asked if she could spend the night. I said sure. We slept in bed together, but nothing happened.
The next morning she went home to change, and then drove to Immokalee. On her way to work she texted me: "Why didn't u try to have sex with me last night? R u not attracted to me?"
"I didn't know u wanted me to," I replied.
"Why do u think I spent the night in ur bed?" she asked.
"I thought u really were too high to drive home. I didn't want to take advantage of the situation," I texted. Man, I felt like a dodo.
Later that day she texted me again: "R u an ass man or a tit man?"
"What do u mean?" I texted back. Apparently I'm a little slow sometimes.
"Do u get off looking at ass or tits? What do you like better?"
"I like breasts. So I guess I'm a breastman," I replied.
A few minutes later she texted me some pictures of herself in her office. She wore a dark, professional-looking business suit. Her white blouse was unbuttoned and her bra was open. She was flashing her breasts at me.
I guess that shoulda really got me going, but I was so n
o interested. I didn't even text her back. She was just too damn weird.
A few weeks later, I met Flora on POF. She was 35 and kinda heavyset. She had monster boobs. Not the porn star kind. The ten ton tilly kind. She said she managed her own party business. We went out to dinner at her favorite restaurant in Naples.
Then she asked me to come over to her place for dinner a few days later. She had a son. I think he was maybe 9 or 10 years old. She had told him all about me, before I arrived.
At the dinner table, he suddenly asked her: "Is Oliver going to be my new dad?"
Flora replied: "Well, Mommy and Oliver have just met a few days ago, but we'll see how things go. Would you like him to be your new dad?"
"Yeah, he's nice," her son replied.
She thought that was adorable. I thought it was crrreepy.
After dinner she put her son to bed and we talked on the couch for a while. She kept telling me that she thought I was brilliant and amazing: "You're such an amazing cartoonist. You are just so brilliant."
Did I mention she thought I was amazing and brilliant?
She kept flattering me so much, I was getting really uncomfortable. I guess I'm not very good at receiving compliments, and she was laying it on really thick.
She invited me over again a few days later, but I made some excuse. I really didn't feel like hanging out with her and her kid.
We didn't talk to each other any more after that, until we reconnected again a year or two later, when I was going through some drama with my girlfriend Veronica. But I'll get to that later.
So, when I reconnected with Flora again, we hung out a few times. Usually at her place. She cooked dinner and we watched a movie.
Then one day she texted me: "How come u have never tried to have sex with me? Is it because I'm not European?"
"I didn't know u were interested in that. I thought we were just friends," I texted back.
The next time we met, she made sure I got the hint. She talked about sex a lot that night. She told me she had threesomes with some of her guy friends. And she told me she met a guy online who was into cuckolding. She said that's when a guy likes to watch his girlfriend have sex with another guy. I told her that was not my cup of tea.
Then she asked me if I was into breastfeeding. She told me she found a fetish website a few months ago, and all the guys on there were into breastfeeding. She said she joined the forum, and started talking to a guy from Alaska. A few days later, after she sent him pictures of her ginormous udders, he flew from Alaska to Florida to meet her for a wild suckling session.
She said it was the most intense, most erotic bonding experience of her life. She told me that he took great care to pay attention to each nipple equally, to not favor one over the other. And then he suckled on her clit for the grand finale.
Then she asked me if I would like to suckle on her breasts like an infant.
"Uhh, I'm not sure," I replied.
She got all emotional, and said: "You are so brilliant, so amazing. I would be so proud if you were my son." She teared up.
She had been drinking a lot that night, and this was just getting too damn weird. I wanted to get outta there!
She kept telling me how amazing and brilliant I was, and how honored she would be to breastfeed me.
"Hmm. I'm hungry," I said. "I need a snack."
"What do you want?" she asked. She probably thought I meant I wanted some of her milk.
"What do you have? You know what, I'll go take a look myself," I said, got up and walked into the kitchen. I was going to check her cabinets, and pick something that she didn't have, so I could pretend to go get it at the store. It was after midnight by now, but there was a 24 hour Walmart just down the street. I noticed she didn't have my favorite: Nutella.
"Hmm. I'm really in the mood for a Nutella sandwich right now. Too bad you don't have any. I'm just gonna run to Walmart real quick and grab some."
"Are you sure? It's late."
"Yeah, I'll be right back," I said, and quickly exited her apartment.
I had seen comedies and sitcoms, where two people meet on a blind date, and one of them pretends to go to the bathroom and then ditches the other one. I always thought that was so unrealistic. Nobody does that. Even if you have a bad date, at least you finish your meal and say good night. Nope, tonight I found out that sometimes people really do run away. I just did. I literally ran away from a girl who wanted to breastfeed me.
While I was driving back to Bonita Springs, she texted me: "R u coming back?"
I didn't respond.
A few minutes later she texted me: "Ur not coming back, r u?"
Then a few minutes later: "REALLY?"
Then: "Wow. Seriously? WTF"
The next morning, she texted me: "I guess I'll just never be pretty enough or skinny enough for u."
Aww. That made me feel so bad, because I really hurt her feelings. I had been a real jerk. So I texted her back: "No, it's not that. U were really drunk, and u know I don't like being around drunk people. So I thought it was better if I leave. I'm sorry."
I had brought over two DVDs the previous night, because I really thought we were going to watch a movie after dinner, not have her mammaries for dessert. A few days later she texted me: "I don't hate u for leaving like that. I still got ur movies. When do u want to come get them?"
I didn't reply. She could keep the movies.
I was not a fan of Plenty Of Fish, after meeting Maxine and Flora. I figured I might as well go back to plan A, and see if I'd meet someone nice with my ad for a mutually beneficial relationship.
MORE OF HUSSY'S LIES
"I can take any truth; just don't lie to me."
Barbra Streisand
"A single lie destroys a whole reputation of integrity."
Baltasar Gracian
"We tell lies when we are afraid... afraid of what we don't know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us. But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger."
Tad Williams
I started seeing three girls who answered my online ad. One of them was Manuela, a medical student from Equador. She was petite, skinny, with long black hair and a perfect body. She was only 20 and had this really timid, mousy little voice. She almost sounded like a cartoon character. But she was unbelievably beautiful. She could have been a professional model. And she was smart. We often made fun of those annoying illiterate American kids, who spell everything wrong, trying to emulate some idiotic gangsta rapper, and quoting asinine lyrics, because they think being dumb and shallow makes them look cool.
Manuela was going to go back to Ocala when the next semester started, but for now she was staying at her parents' house at The Forum on Colonial Boulevard. She didn't have a car, so I usually picked her up and we'd spend time together at the The Hyatt right there. But when her parents weren't home, we had sex in her bedroom. It was a typical teenage girl's room. It hadn't changed since before she went to college. There were teddy bears on the shelves, and a lot of pink everywhere. I felt like I was living in one of those pornos, where a guy has sex with his kid's gorgeous babysitter or something.
When Manuela moved back to Ocala, I saw on her Facebook page that she started dating a one-eyed firefighter. Apparently he was the love of her life. I never heard from her again.
I was also seeing another 20 year old girl at that time. Her name was Kayla. She was a quirky math student who grew up in Sayville on Long Island, New York, not far from where I had lived in Brooklyn. Kayla was 6 feet tall and a little chubby. She had long bright red hair. She was not nearly as pretty as the medical student from Equador, but also very smart. Kayla had a great personality and she always made me laugh with her silly little jokes. We both had the same strange sense of humor. She was a little punk, with a lip piercing and the word bitch tattooed right over her pussy. She liked to wear ironic t-shirts and paint each of her nails a different color.
Sex and Crime: Oliver's Strange Journey Page 23