You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me

I'm trying to not post about this shit, but you know I can't help it. Especially with this episode.

So, hmmm, how to describe this?

Ok, so there's gonna be a couple more times that I have to be at … John's house. Mainly to clear out my life from there. But also, at least for now, I might be at the house for a night or two just to take care of all the little critters in the house while he's out tending bar and hanging with his now boy or something.

So, I'm here for tonight.

I got here in the early afternoon. And all the animals seemed happy to see me. But I figure they're happy to see anyone. Still, I miss them.

Anyway, I'm walking past the entryway from my… old room.
(geez, it's only been two weeks since I've left and I feel like a home invader)

Then, I hear keys at the door.

Crap! Well, I don't mind that, for some unknown reason, John has come home. I guess I can deal. But it is weird since he should be working till 8 or 9.

And then some guy opens the door.

Hmmm…. I wonder who this could be?

Our… the dog goes straight for him pant pant pant lick lick lick – see, if he didn't know him, he'd be barking.

"Hi," I said, with my eyes saying, "hello. Who the fuck are you?"

"Uh, hi, uh," he's holding the overgrown puppy back and clearly making some quick judgements, "uh, is John here?"

"No," I said. "And who the fuck are you?" My eyes insisted.

"Um ok," he said, and he backed out and shut the door.

Wow, ok, I need a drink.

No more than (I kid you not!) 30 seconds to 1 minute passes and I get a call on my cell from John.

"Hi, uh, did a guy show up at the house looking for me?"

"Yes."

"Oh, yeah, I needed a coat cause it's cold and I didn't dress warm enough so I sent someone over to get a coat."

"uh huh." See, I always do the "uh huh, yeah, uh huh, whatever" thing when I know he's full of shit. What's funny is he seems to always think I'm believing what he says. Guess he has no sarcasm detector.

See it's about 40 degrees. It's a very nice 40 degrees, jacket open 40 degrees – normally it should be like 25. And the house is like a 20 minute drive from the bar with no traffic. So, unless he went out in a tank top, I kinda don't buy the story.

Bottom line, I guess:
That's the guy. And he's already got keys to the house. Wow.
How long did it take for me, 6 months? I can't remember. But not two weeks.

Man, John must really think I am an complete waste of oxygen or something.

And I tell you, more and more I am inclined to firmly believe this man, John, that I used to respect is, and always has been, a complete and utter asswipe.

Anyway, just thought I'd share.


[UPDATE] In part, responding to Anapestic's comment, but also as a point of clarification. There is a reason that I am not making a clean break with John. I'm just not saying what it is. There are reasons that I'm blurring this - reasons that are unimportant.

But just trust me when I say: If I were to never ever ever ever interact with John again, it would involve a sacrafice that I should not have to make.

But I could.

But if I did, it would leave me with a greater sense of loss than what I have now.

So bare with me... Trust me, if this extra thing was not in the picture, I would do my damndest to be sure that I would never see, hear, or speak with "John" ever again in a million years.
And yeah - his loss :)