1% of the population is clinically psychotic, and I just f*cked one
If you aren’t already familiar with the writings of Mike the Master Dater, then you are surely missing out. Not only is he one of my best friends but he’s also one of the few men that has actually called me out on my shit and lived to tell about it. He’s raw, brash and completely unapologetic. He’s the male version of me! Oh, and he’s hot. What’s not to love? He also has an incredible knack for attracting psychos…
“Please… All I want is for you to leave me alone. Stop threatening my friends, stop calling me, stop texting me, and just leave me alone.” The girl looking back at me had her teeth clenched and looked as if she were going to gouge my eyes out and eat them like dumplings. She was the reason I have been carrying pepper spray with me for the last two months. I looked right to a large rat knocking over a can, when… “WHACK!” she slapped me so hard that even the birds flying around my head looked dazed.
2 months earlier…
I was having a great time in Saigon, I was drinking too much, smoking too much and according the callous forming only on my right hand, masturbating too much. I hadn’t had sex in a while and I was feeling it, I caught myself either eying the inappropriate or the simply disgusting. This felt a little bit like when I ran out of food while on a cycling trip, and started eying dead bugs and discarded fast food bags. This is when I ran into Monica, she was cute, Thai and Horny. “You show it to me (she grabs at my crotch and I pull away) I wanna know if it is big enough!” Now, without going through the tacky, nauseating details of our drunken courtship, we can both assume that she was wild, I was hungry and it seemed like a pretty good exchange.
Later that night…
I was incredibly satisfied, we just finished a sex marathon and I felt like a starving man after a buffet but hopefully with less food on my face. I grinned ear to ear but when I saw her face in the dim light my smile faded. “How you do that? I never do like that before…” her disturbed look softened, getting a bit doe eyed. Something was really really wrong here, I thought in silence for a while, “Monica, how many guys have you been with?” It looked like she was preparing to lie when she said, “One guys,” the way she said it felt honest. I remember closing my eyes in a major “Oh fuck…” moment. I was silent for about 30 seconds trying to figure out how to phrase my next question; I cocked my head and said, “Monica, do you love me?” To my horror her lower lip started to tremble like my father’s restless leg, “How you know? How you know ‘bout my thinking??” she burst into tears and through the pillow I could hear her say, “Yes I love you, I love you so much.”
Oh fuck, this is going to be bad but if I knew HOW bad, I would have proactively pepper sprayed myself and jumped off my balcony.
The next morning…
“Monica, you have to go home now, my friends are coming over soon and we are going to the gym. Please put your clothes on and go,” I said this a bit clipped because I had been trying to get her to leave for the last two hours. “You go to gym, I stay here wait for you.” This is when my friend Matt, as usual, burst into my room without knocking, “Stop bloody wankin’ and put the kettle on Govenaa!” He collapsed on the sofa and lit a ciggy, I motioned to the girl in my bed and we both stared at her, she had, while sitting up, pulled the comforter over her head, looking like a Scooby Doo ghost minus the eye holes. WTF? As we stared she started to shimmy towards the far corner of the bed to obscure herself, it was like a child covering her eyes to make herself invisible. Thirty minutes later, the comforter teepee started to work it’s way towards its clothes. We got silent as a tan arm reached for the pile of clothing on the nightstand. Five mins later, it emerged, looked at us in fury, and bolted out the door. “What the fuck was that?” said Matt. “I have no idea but I hope I never see it again.”
Three days later…
“Jesus, this girl won’t stop calling me, I think she is about to hit 20, fuck… there it goes,” my phone buzzed in my hand, I hung up. I looked at my chain-smoking friend Masahiro and explained the story. The phone rang 5 more times during the telling. Masahiro said, “My friend’s ex was like that, right before she jumped in front of a train.” I looked at him, “Seriously??” He put out his cigarette and smiled, “No…”
Three hours later…
The total calls were about to hit 50 and my buddy Ben sitting across from me with his camera looked delighted to see me open a can o’ whoop ass. “Okay, okay, I’m ready, answer the phone,” he started filming and I let loose. “What the FUCK are you doing Monica… I don’t fucking care if you want to see me, are you a fucking lunatic??? Don’t ever talk to me, look at me, call me, or message me ever fucking again.” This same conversation looped for about 4 minutes until I hung up, and she called back, I hung up and she called back. Damn it!!! I want to be able to use my damn phone! I barely was able to activate the call-blocking software, finally It stopped… Whew.
Four hours later…
From 11 to 3 in the morning she managed to hit redial 450 times. Oh fuck, I think I just hit the loony tunes lottery. Would I be stabbed in my sleep? My penis decapitated, stuffed, and a suction cup stitched to the base?
She has, to my relief, stopped calling me and my penis is still attached. Did I handle things correctly? Nope… Would I have preferred to have not had the experience? Hell no! What a ride! Do I want to repeat it? Nope… this was kinda like surviving cancer, I learned something but it fucking sucked.
Crazy Monica also sent me hundreds of texts, and each one was answered with the autoreply, “Monica, this is an autoreply and not me. I don’t read or receive your texts. Please, leave me alone or I will involve the Police.” Unfortunately, she never understood and kept hammering her head on the glass similar to one of the sharks at my local aquarium but I think the shark might have been more intelligent.
Here are a few of her texts for your enjoyment, none of these were ever responded to:
Message: Hi, how are you? I would like you to introduce my sister..but im scared maybe you hurt me again…
Message: Why you make me say it? but I love you.
Message: Hi, how are you? What are you doin?
Message: Your bulshit in my life!
Message: I dont want trouble! Do you understand! If you like trouble.. trouble yourself! Dont want a bad conversation from you!
Message: ..dont force me to tell this to my parents my parents are here ! Dont ever force me i do..you just wait let see!
Message: Go to hell!!!
Message: My boyfriend ws very angry with you..i am with my boyfriend europe..he want to kill you bec. people like you very stupid i ever know! (She didn’t have a boyfriend, she is referring to a guy that blocked her on facebook)
Message: …sorry i drunk..i know no body like me..i admit..sorry if i annoyed you..:) ..just want you to know im not bad person. Thanks.
Message: fuck u ashole guy!!
Message: Do you think i believe you? Hhahaha! You need shychaitress (Psychiatrist, this apparently was in answer to my autoreply message)
Message: TeXT later ganna drive motorbike fuck tonight if you like..choose the younger or the old woman..?
Message: Hahahahaha miss your fuck baby..
Message: No your so funny love it!
Message: You need mental..
Message: Haha! Why im with you now? Of coures your alone there..
Message: Peace be with you..
Message: Gush i miss your fuck only fuck i miss it!
Message: Much better your change your number bec. If not i always bothering you make me angry..!
Message: Hey american are you really a guy or gay?
Message: Your ashole..how come you call the name of the lord.out of pure heart! Your nonsense person! (In response to her sitting outside my building, I drove by saying “oh god…”)
Message: Baby where are you? Here in your home.. I knock the door..
Message: If you like that i knock your door very loud..!
Message: fuck u ashole guy!!!
This is a guest post by Mike from mikethemasterdater.com