Asshole Tax

After I post about needing a little bit more for rent, someone sends a text, says he wants to shoot pool and have a beer. I get ready and go to the expected meeting spot. I’m on time, which is kind of amazing considering the round the way adventure I had getting there. He sends me a text and says he is running 5 minutes late. I order two pints of stout so they can settle, figuring he is about to walk in the door.

I see someone staring in the door and seeming nervous. Refusing to believe that this is the dude I came to meet I continue to chat up the person who is next to me in this very crowded and totally male filled put. When I got to the place I went in search of captain-save-a-ho and noticed that there was one other woman in the place, well aside from the waitresses. The patron was in her late 40s / early 50s and kissing all over the dude she was with.

The guy I planned on meeting was sitting in his car across the street texting me about not being able to come in. “There is someone I’m trying to avoid in there” — Great Drama!

I go outside and let the pints sitting there. There is a squirrely looking dude sitting in some sort of shiny black generic thing. Nissan maybe. Something that looks like it wants you to notice it but is so totally nondescript that all I saw was the turtle wax. Whatever, he is sitting in this car and through a course of texts and calls and hushed ducking low and waving at the same time I decipher that this is the dude I am supposed to meet. I approach the vehicle that is parked in the street. I go up to the window and put my hand out ‘money first” he hands it to me. Then he tells me that he is avoiding a Puerto Rican lady with long dark hair. I said, what is this your wife or something, yes he says.

We decide to go someplace else. But I have some errands to run so I tell him to go wait for me, like I waited for him, and I would be along in a few. I went to the post office and while I was in there dealing with post he sent me several texts and then he called. When I left the post office I looked at the texts only to discover that he was whining and asking me why I was not there yet. It had been seven minutes since I left him in the street. He was told to go and meet me at this new place, somewhere where his wife would not meet up with us. But he thought it would be a good idea to drive around the corner when I came out of the post office. He pulled up and tried to talk to me wile I was crossing the street. I guess he thinks that women want to be engaged in conversations with men who should pay attention and drive. I told him to have some patience and I asked him if he was following me. He assured me that he was not a creeper, a wanker, nor any sort of weirdo. I walked away from his car, he did what people in cars do — he drove.

I found a super secret shortcut to where I was going but in the mean time I processed his story, his behavior, and wondered what he must think of this. If I am totally off base, why is it that this behavior seems totally fine to him, and others who pull this sort of shit.

The thing that struck me was that there was only one other woman patron in the pub, a blond who was all over some dude. Anyone who could be described as Puerto Rican with long dark hair was working there. I remembered the experience I had ordering the drinks. I was confused because there were so many long dark haired women in the same stupid uniform with their hair in a ponytail. They looked like clones of one another. But there were no women there drinking. None. I know because when I got there I went around and looked for him, I saw everyone in the pub. I sat facing the door, waiting for him. He showed up 15 minutes late with some strange story about avoiding someone who was not in the pub.

He parked so that the most logical thing for me to do would have been to get in his car. While I was at his window I almost got run down by not one but two busses. Yeah.

Then when he should have been warming up a stool at the top of the hill he just happened to pull out of the post office parking lot, just at the time I was crossing the street.


This guy seems like some sort of creeper to me.

Maybe he has some totally legit story to point to the fact that I am a paranoid person. I am paranoid, because I need to keep creepy men away from my world.

I don;t know if this dude is a stalker, was trying to get me in his car, if the guy is a pimp, or a wanna be pimp, All I know is that his squirrely actions and his shady story add up to equal ‘stay the fuck away.’

But this is not the first time he has seemed like a creeper to me. He has been sending me random texts since April. He would not tell me who he was. He assumed that I was writing about him. I’m not sure who he thinks he is. Either way he managed to act like a creeper asshole.

So I decided that I was not gonna meet him at the place I told him to go, which had been my intention. For the reasons I have just laid out I opted to charge him an asshole tax.

For a few minutes I felt like the bad guy. Taking his money and not meeting him for a drink. But I did meet him for a drink, he was just to chicken to come in and drink the drink. His story about the woman was the most suspicious part of this little encounter until I examined the unexpected arrival of his vehicle at the post office. He was clearly following me. I don’t feel the slightest bit bad about the situation. He is up to something.

This happened last week. Tonight he sent me a passive aggressive text. I asked hime ot please go away and never approach me again.

Every time a fan tries to become a friend it gets creepier and creepier. I really hope he goes away.

One thought on “Asshole Tax

Add yours

  1. You are awesome Mistress. I love your blog. I came to see you once for a session in LA. Your private dungeon was spectacular. You ordered me around in just the way I love. The session was the best I ever had and you were dressed to the nines. I like sessions where the Mistress gets inside my head and makes me beg for more. I am so sorry to hear of your horrible health problems. If there is anything I can do to help just let me know. Please move back to Cali. Please.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: