*THIS IS A TRUE STORY*
Now, I'm going to tell you this story for all sorts of reasons, but primarily because I am hoping someone will read this, put it together with everything else I have been through, and offer me their spare bedroom. Or maybe make me a kept boy... but not in that prison sort of way.
The other night, as I explained earlier, my friend of the female persuasion came by and we were going to enjoy one another's company. But she has another friend of the male persuasion and he kept calling her because he knew she was over here and she kept trying to explain to him... well, all sorts of things, but primarily that it was not the way he seemed intent on making it out to be. Of course, I had no problem with him coming over, so long as he wasn't looking for a fight. She assured me he was not.
In walks this baby-faced boy - all of maybe 22-23 (she just turned 26) - and he's all swelled-up. Just about the facial area, I mean; he was not a big guy, he was just puffed-up because he was so jealous. But I really did not care because... well, that's just how the MD rolls.
The first girl I really "dated" (as in I was dating the living hell out of her) was way too pretty - the perfect kind of girl to date when you are single and carefree, but also when you are about 25-30+ - and like this guy, I was just a kid and - as this guy proceeded to tell me throughout the night (over and over, ad nauseam) about our fair and mutual friend - she broke my little heart. After that, I moved straight on to... well, they prefer to call themselves "dancers." You learn quickly that, with young women in that occupation, the whole jealousy thing gets you nowhere but back in your mama's house. Alone. Needless to say, I have my moments, but by and large, I am not the jealous type. So I had no problem with dude hanging out and having a good time with us.
Well, he decided he was going to be all puffed-up for the better part of the evening. But I handled that. (If I told you how, you would L right OL, but taken out of context, you would also think me a ribald prick... regular readers already know this is true, so let's just say I'm erring in my favor on this one.) It was nothing violent nor was anything or anyone exposed - nothing like that - I can be a smart-mouth, but I'm no asshole. Still, let's just say I managed to break the ice a bit while staying just out of trouble with my female friend... and I mean just.
So as the evening wore on, and he continually impressed upon me how enamored he is of her and how she "breaks his heart" and blah and blahbity-blah, he finally started getting the message that I am not really in competition with him for her affections. And I truly am not. Still, you could tell he was upset, even though we both accommodated him as much as we could without allowing it to become a hindrance.
Anyway, I made a huge spread (BBQ chickens, sliced potatoes, chili beans, rice pilaf, and a can of biscuits), ate a plate, and offered him do likewise. He ate a piece of chicken but nothing else, and kept drinking. By this point in the evening, the puffy face was more from exhaustion and pure alcohol than anything else. A few more rounds of YouTube-surfing and I was out of the game; I went on to sleep.
Her ride woke me up when he finally arrived and I went to the bathroom. When I washed my hands, I was like, "EW!"
If you get the gist of where this is going, you can stop reading now... it gets much worse.
I walked back in the living room as they were explaining where he lived and where she was going and etc. and said, "Dude! Did you puke in my sink!?"
I really didn't mean to embarrass him and when he, wide-eyed, began declaring his innocence far too vehemently, I simply cut him short with, "It happens, just... gross!" My female friend agreed, "Yeah, gross!" Now I really felt bad for embarrassing the guy!
So yesterday, I was too hungover to do anything and there was this awful smell just everywhere. Of course, the leftovers were still on the stove, the trash was full, and the litter boxes needed cleaning. So... take your pick, you know? I was just too busted to do anything about any of it, so I dealt with it.
This morning, I lifted the lid to the trashcan and was physically assaulted by an odor the likes of which I refuse to describe. So I'm running down the list of what could possibly be in there that had gone so incredibly Bad that it bordered on pure Evil... pork, beef, chicken, various side dishes, catshit - there was a list of stuff it could have been, but in the back of my mind, I knew all of these things and more had been in the trash before, yet I had never before even imagined the acrid olfactory indecency with which I was now confronted.
I carried the entire can outside - I was not pulling that bag out and walking it across my home - and passed a neighbor. She physically gagged and swore aloud!
"I don't know what that is, but get it away from me!"
I apologized and brought the can into the shower, where I scoured it under hot water.
Sink down, trashcan - check... what the living hell is that smell!?
Again, a list of chores remained. So I emptied the litter boxes. The air cleared, but upon reentering the domicile, there was still a pungent presence which I was either going to have to find or build an altar unto and begin making sacrifices.
I emptied the leftovers on the stove and started pulling the dishes from the sink...
With each new dish I rinsed, the smell reintroduced itself. Everything was greasy. I kept thinking it was Italian Dressing and I kept wondering what in the world I had made with Italian Dressing!?
By this point, I was thinking someone had stuck a plate with all the food on it at the bottom of all the rest and whatever it once had been had mutated into a living, breathing beast made of pure hatred and halitosis.
By this point, whatever it was had stopped-up the drain and I was having to plunge it with my fingers. Mushy things were mushed and little bones were fished-out and the entire sink was filled with a swirling, oily morass. A fetid, hateful morass of the foulest stench!
And that's when it occurred to me:
Dude puked in my kitchen sink, my trashcan, my bathroom sink, my toilet, and my tub! I had been elbow-deep in the guy who is occasionally sharing a female with me all day long - and not in that "let's keep this between the three of us" sort of way!
So I scrubbed my arms to the elbow with concentrated dishwashing liquid, scoured the sinks with Mean Green, and then rewashed with bar soap. Then showered. Yet I cannot get that smell out of my nose!
And I'm basically out of groceries. All I have left is tuna fish salad, spoiled milk for making cornbread, a Crockpot full of white beans and neckbones that's about two weeks old, meatloaf, some cream style corn...
Wha-at? I told you it got worse!
Needless to say, I am guaranteed to be sober throughout the Labor Day Weekend. And my female friend called and was supposed to have been here like 5-6 hours ago, so I'm pretty sure wherever she is, she is not (sober). And she is not on her way over here (though she is very likely to pop-up late this evening and need gas money for her ride), so you got to hear the Lovecraftian story I was going to tell her about her young boyfriend's inability to hold his liquor... anywhere in my house!
Enjoy your BBQ and beer!
© C Harris Lynn, 2008
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