The story's beginning goes all the way back to a month ago, when this Italian chatted me up online. He is good looking and his body is nice but he is incredibly, hopelessly, outrageously stupid. I am shallow and I like simple pleasure, but I certainly do not hope to wake up to a guy asking me how to use a toaster, no matter how good the sex was.
'So what kind of clothes you like?' he asked.
'I am a very casual dresser'
'Bad taste'
'Well then what brand of clothes do you like?'
'I dunno, expensive ones. Classy ones'
...said the guy who showed me a picture of him in a neon green shirt.
Except my damned fashion style that he never saw, all he talked about was sex: what I did with my ex, how he was gonna wreck my behind, how my face was gonna be covered with…And that was it. It seemed as if his life only consisted of getting dressed and getting undressed.
And then he told me he got a crush on me.
Despite my hobo-like virtual style, somehow he developed a crush on me. He said a lot of pretty words (to the best of his ability, with his very limited vocabulary, like 'u got fine ass' and 'u r hawt') and he even spent half an hour telling me he loved me. As if he knew me at all. He concluded by saying I was special, so I told him you are too. And then I went into repulsion mode.
If your job involves dealing with people on a daily basis, you can somehow develop a kind of hunch like that of a bunny. When trouble comes your left ear will wiggle and you just know you gotta get the fuck out of wherever you are. This piece of meat has become stale and potentially more trouble than fun. I immediately declared I need to shut this person out of my life.
So I told him I got an extreme case of eczema on my ass and sent him the grossest picture I could find on Google. Extremis malis extrema remedia. Worked on Napoleon, worked on him.
