“Hey you, asshole!” I heard a yell emanating from a silhouette in the sliding
glass door. “You are a sick fuck’n pervert and if I ever see you again I am
going to kick your fuck’n ass?” That girl was calling me a pervert? Just two
minutes before I was watching her participate in acts that would make Ron
Jeremy blush and she was calling me a pervert!? I didn’t have the courage to
respond though and just wanted her to get the fuck out of there so I could
drink myself into tomorrow and forget about the whole incident.
She finished her justified tirade and left. For a few minutes there was blessed
silence. I have never relived myself for so long. Rob eventually came outside
looking a little confused and handed me a fresh beer, which I immediately
opened. It didn’t take long for me to explain why I did what I did.
‘Well” he said as the final streak of sunlight dipped below the mountains “that
sure did the trick. I don’t think I will be talking to her again.” I glanced up at him
and he looked a bit saddened by the glorious failure of our seemingly flawless
plan. Perhaps, like me, he was stricken with guilt at the realization that we had
executed the worst break up since Henry the VIII. More likely though his
momentary depression was probably brought on by the knowledge that he
would never ever see her cha-cha again. There was no way he could ever
talk his way back into her good graces after that. “Fuck it man, let’s booze.”
