I've been making more Faceshit friends recently. I think 3 people I'd pretty much forgotten ever existed have friended me in the last week or 2 (they're all girls...). One of them kind of stands out because she is one of the girls who I have been stalked by (I know, you're wondering, _____ how can you forget someone who stalked you? And believe me when I say, she is fairly easy to forget. I mean she's a bit snaky looking, to be frank {not Jason's Drunk Roommate Frank}). This happened back in around the fall of 1993/winter & spring of 1994. At the time I was living in an apartment north of campus about 1 and 1/2 miles, right up on High St (I'll have to tell you about my downstairs neighbor later in the post). I was hanging out quite a bit at that time with a guy named Rob Leimgruber (and I could tell hundreds of insane stories about the trouble the 2 of us got into). One place Rob and I used to hang out quite often was Papa Joe's. For those of you who never had the pleasure of getting drunk and picking up random members of the opposite sex there, let me quickly describe the bar: There were 3 parts 1) the dance floor to the right of the entrance 2) the back part of the place that was more like a sports bar and had tons of video games and stuff 3) the main bar, which was 2 stories. Now the 2 story part is critical to this tale. From the top floor you could look down on the bottom, as the top floor was basically just like a track around the walls, you could probably fit 40/50 people up there - whereas on the main floor, there were hundreds of drunk kids crowded in there on real busy nights (to say nothing of the jammed dance floor, you could almost never move in there). Now, Rob and I would sit around there, get drunk, and wait for some random skanks to approach us. We seemed to do this quite a lot during this period. Enter the girl I mentioned earlier, the one who just friended me on Faceshit the last couple weeks. Well, I went to school with her in 9th and 10th grade. Then left that school and never thought of her again (about the only "interaction" I had with her during 9th and 10th grade was that I and some friends toilet papered her house for some stupid reason - I don't know why, but in my defense we toilet papered lots of houses for some reason - we didn't discriminate). So, about 6 years passed from when I left the one school and the night she comes up and starts talking to me at Joe's. I'm afraid I wasn't very nice to her because I was probably drunk and she was pretty unattractive (at least to me, if someone else thought she was hot, rock on). Well what started happening after I shot her down the one night is this: I started noticing her on the 2nd floor of Joe's, leaning over the railing staring down at me. I noticed this a number of nights over several months (probably a dozen or more). I didn't really say anything to her and just continued to hang out with Rob, get drunk, and mingle with skanks. One night, and I believe this was in the spring of 1994, I was in Joe's by myself for some reason (Rob was married at the time, so he didn't always make it out - it's a long story...) waiting for someone I knew to show up or waiting to get drunk enough to venture onto the dance floor (things always got dicey fast on that dance floor, the only dance floor where things got dicier faster was the underground place across the street {I mentioned it about a month ago in a post}). So, this is this girl's chance to come and talk to me again, as I'm alone and getting drunk. Remember she had to hurry and come hit on me before I started talking to god knows who. She seized the opportunity. And I gotta say, she was hammered. And she bought a number of shots for us. I hung out with her for awhile, with every intention of getting away from her after a bit. She could barely put together 3 cogent words to be honest. And she got very grabby, and tonguey. Her inhibition trigger was off. She was begging me to take her home (don't worry, this story has a happy ending - keep reading). It got to be 2:15 and the bar closed up. This girl could barely walk and I have no idea where her friends were or even if they had come out with her that night, as I'm getting no solid info from her at all.The only thing I'm getting from her is groped. And then I did the right thing. I gave this stalker girl a ride back to my apartment north of campus. Thank God she was so drunk that she was passing out. Otherwise, I might have had to fend her off for who knows how long. So, I managed to put her in bed, and went out to pass out on the couch. I didn't take advantage of the situation. In fact, she woke up after awhile, went to the restroom, and puked. And I got up, got her somewhat puked stained top off her, got her back into the bed, and went back out onto the couch to sleep. The next morning, she was super apologetic. And super thankful I didn't take advantage of her too (admittedly, the reason I didn't take advantage of her wasn't because I'm a good a person or anything. It was because I found her slightly repulsive). I drove her to Westerville (she was living with girls she'd gone to college with - I have no recollection of where they had gone, but they'd all graduated) and dropped her off. I went in with her and 2 of her roommates were super excited because they assumed she'd finally got me to fuck her. Well, I sat there hungover and took off after about 10 minutes. And I have never seen the girl since. I went into Joe's pretty regularly for a good year and a half after that and she never did turn up. I'm guessing this girl had some kind of epiphany over the whole experience that night I could have taken advantage of her and didn't. Hopefully, she quit stalking guys in bars and met them in some different manner. I think I'm right because in her Faceshit photo, she looks happily married with kids. So, for all of you who are convinced I'm the embodiment of evil, remember that, at least once, I did the right thing.
That guy I mentioned above, the guy who lived in the apartment under me for about 2 & 1/2 years - I still feel bad about how bad a neighbor I was. He was a real nice, hardworking brother - probably in his early to mid 50's. And he almost never made a peep. The only time I can remember hearing anything coming up from his apartment was on Sunday evening at about 7 - 9. He seemed to tune his radio to some gospel show and he played it loud enough so I could hear it. Me, on the other hand - I was an awful neighbor. I mean from 6 am to 2 am I was awesome. You'd never know anyone was living there. But for those critical hours of 2 to 6, the time when lots of folks are trying to sleep to rest up for another grueling day of work, I was really loud. If I had a girl over and she was loud, that was one thing. I figured the dude below wouldn't begrudge another guy the opportunity to enjoy loud, alcohol fueled, sexual deviancy with random skanks. But, the music - the music is another story. I had this awful habit of getting in between 2 and 4 (depending on what had gone down that night) and playing music at deafening levels. I was on the top floor, so there was no one above me to annoy. But, the poor black dude below me was subjected to lots of Nirvana, Replacements, Cure, New Order, Liz Phair, Lemonheads, etc. almost every night for 2 & 1/2 years. I did run into my neighbor around the time I was finally moving out of the place in December 1995 and apologized for all the times I'd kept him up and I asked him why he never called the cops on me once. He said something I'll never forget and it was this: "You're only a young buck once. And I sure as hell wasn't gonna get in the way of you having a good time." Now, tell me he wasn't the most awesome neighbor ever.
The next neighbor I had, oh man. I'll write about it another time. My life was spinning out of control, and she was hot, and her boyfriend was a cop...
One of the funniest stories about Rob Leimgruber, at least one I'll repeat, is this one time he had somehow gotten hold of a real police badge. He said he "found" it somewhere. I have no idea. I found it was best to not ask too many questions with Rob. All I knew is that he was 6' 4" and claimed he had been a Navy Seal and he was married to a very hot girl who he left at home lots of nights to hang out with me, get drunk, and get into...things. Oh, and Rob did resemble Rob Lowe. He really did. He got lots of tail. Of course I liked hanging out with him because he was 6' 4" and very good to have standing nearby when I shot my mouth off to the wrong person/people. And, he often carried a concealed gun with him. I'm not kidding. We had a good time. We'd trade buying rounds until something happened each night. And something almost always did. Back to the police badge. What we did was approach the hottest obviously underage girls in the bars. Rob would flash the badge and then the girls would beg for mercy. I almost always went into some ridiculous story about how "we are 21 Jump St type undercover cops. Don't worry we aren't here to bust anybody, blah, blah, blah..." I found the whole thing pretty entertaining. You'd be surprised how easily under 21 year old girls will agree to go home with a guy who they think is some undercover narc/cop. We quit doing it after a few weeks. The reason is that there were always real cops around on foot patrol and I was worried some girl would go up to a real cop and point us out. And cops don't generally like it when a couple of punks are walking around bars, using a real police badge, and pretending to be cops just to hit on hot underage girls (I mean under the drinking age - NOT under 18). If I ever got involved with a girl at that time who was under 18 (and I'm not saying I did), it was because she lied to me about her age.
Lots of media attention is being made of the idea that Barack Hussein Obama may not have been born in the United States. Evidently there are a sizable number of folks who think old Barry was born in Kenya or something. And personally, I don't care where he was born. It's totally irrelevant to me. But I do wonder why anybody would pay any attention to folks who claim that old Barry wasn't born in the US. And I also think the folks that really do believe this are just as weird and out there as the people who think that old W planned and was in on the World Trade Center attacks in 2001. The thing is, these 2 distinctly different groups probably both firmly believe in their cause and fervently think folks who believe the other one are kooks. That's the thing about kooks - they disagree with other kooks, and can never see that they're as kooky
as the kooks they ridicule. It's pretty funny. A bit sad, but...
When it's all too late
It's all too late
