So I’m at work the other night, and on one of my breaks, I was talking to a tech by the coke machine. She is a pretty blonde, so I tell her a blonde joke. She laughs, so do I, and so we become casual acquaintances. No big deal. Or so I thought…
Later, her boyfriend comes up to me. He’s this friggin’ dominant male mokey mofo who is a total putz. I just had to yank his chain.
Our conversation went something like this:
HIM: Are we gonna have a problem?
ME: Who?
HIM: You and me.
ME: Doing what?
HIM: Getting along, man!
ME: <doesn’t look up from magazine> I dunno, are we?
HIM: You tell me.
ME: About what?
HIM: You know what I’m talking about. You talking to
Cindy*. What’s going on?
ME: Nothing. Why? Did you break up?
HIM: Should we?
ME: <smirk> Is that any of my business?
HIM: No! So don’t talk to her!
ME: Why not? Is she a bitch?
HIM: No! Why are you talking shit? What’s your problem?
ME: You brought it up. I just met her today. Besides, I have a girlfriend. We live together.
HIM: So? That doesn’t mean shit. You-
ME: Actually it does really. It means I am with someone and don’t want to be with anyone else. Get me?
HIM: Then why were you flirting with my girl?
ME: I wasn’t.
HIM: Yeah you were. She told me all about it, you telling her jokes at the coke macines.
ME: She talked to you about me? What did she say?
HIM: She said you were funny, and were joking with her, and that you introduced yourself.
ME: Did she tell you I pinched her ass?
HIM: What?! I, uh, you, man, I’m gonna, er,
ME: I guess not. Good. Cause I didn’t. She’s your girlfriend right?
HIM: Yeah. So what the fuck? Did you touch her?
ME: Yeah, I want to get fired and shit. Are you retarded? Only dipshits date their employees. Not only that, but I told you, I have a girlfriend. I was just being friendly. What’s the big deal?
HIM: She said you were flirting with her.
ME: Maybe that’s the way she took it. Maybe she wanted me to flirt with her, to make you jealous. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me and more worrying about her.
HIM: What the hell is that supposed to mean?
ME: If you have to ask, you’ll never know. Work with me here, man… Why would she tell you something like that, unless she wanted to get a reaction out of you?
HIM: I don’t know.
ME: Right, and why would she want to get a reaction out of you?
HIM: I don’t know. What are you getting at?
ME: <puts magazine down, looks up> Look, man, you’re a dick. You think very highly of yourself, you think you’re the shit. You treat your girlfriends like shit, I should know, I work with the last 3 of them. She’s telling you that other guys like her to indicate that if you don’t treat her properly, she can replace you. Not with me, but with someone who makes her feel good about herself. She’s trying to tell you not to be such an ass, or she’s gonna dump your ass. Comprende?
HIM: Really? That’s bullshit, man. I think-
ME: It doesn’t matter what you think. That’s the truth. You can’t stop her from talking to people. And that’s the kind of shit that’s gonna make her dump your stupid ass. If you really care about her, stop being such a “guy” and be a man.
HIM: <mad>I think we’re gonna have to talk about this privately.
ME: <stands up> Okay, let’s go.
HIM: Not right now! We’re at work!
ME: Then why’d you talk to me about it here, then… asshole?
HIM: We’re gonna have problems, I think you should be careful.
ME: And I think the “meet me at the flagpole after gym class” shit played out in 5th grade. Look, let’s just leave it at this: You don’t like me, and no one likes you, so we’ll just agree to disagree on this one. And no one tells me who I can and can’t talk to. Keep pulling that shit on people. See what it get’s you.
HIM: Whatever, man. I’ll see you around.
ME: Yeah. I’ll see you first.
HIM: <walks away>
ME: <sits down, resumes article about Blink 182 in Rolling Stone>
After work, some of us went to the pub for last call. Lo and behold, there’s our favorite neighborhood dumbass with his girlfriend. She says “hi” to me. I just wave. In few minutes, they’re in a fight, and she leaves. Now he’s really pissed. He gets up, walks toward me…
and walks right past, without a word, and leaves.
I was so scared, I’m so little, hopefully my 5 friends (they’re little, too) and I could have taken him. He was a lot bigger than me, at like 5 10 and about 180.
Good thing I didn’t say “hi” back. Who knows what would’ve happened then?
You will all be happy to know that I made it out alive and well, and that no further occurrences have taken place.
Even thought that guy is a prime, grade-A, top-choice putz.
