Callee (The Psychotic Psychologist)

Callee

Really Bad Date #72

As a bar tender, there are a lot of rules to follow in order to cover your ass. This day and age, you can actually legally blame your bartender for over serving you if you get into some sort of legal trouble.  You're bartender is also responsible for any fatallities that might occur in a drunk driving accident. On the other hand, being a bartender also has a plethora of plusses. For one; you are in charge of how much the customer is allowed to drink for the night. You are also in charge of how much it will cost the customer, and if they get too rowdy...you also have the power to force them out of your bar without even having to make physical contact..in short, you are basically given the powers of god.

This power is acceptionally awesome if you are a single dude and you are interested in a single female customer. I have come up with a gazillion pick-up lines right off the top of my head. These pick-up lines are a magical gift that somehow was bestowed upon me, and I have no idea where they come from.  For whatever reason they have actually been proven successful for the most part. Sometimes they are just rediculous and stupid, but i say them with confidence and poise. This was the worst one that ever sort of worked...

        A very attractive girl walked up to the bar and asked if we had any specials. "Well, anything with booze in it is special isnt it?" I replied. "Haha, yeah i guess so" she belted back. 

        A couple more attractive girls walked up beside her (obviously her friends) and none of them knew what they wanted. I was pleased because I had recently come up with my own recipe book for drinks, and every last one of them has the name of a drug reference or sexual position.  I asked if she was lactose intolerant, and she looked at me like I had a ball sack tattoo'd on my forhead. "Nope" she said curiously. Do you like butterscotch milkshakes? I asked with a grin. "Who does'nt" she reported back while shrugging her shoulders. I had the attention of the two other girls, as well as the girl that was currently ordering.

"How do you feel about doggystyle"? I asked

Bwahahaha!!!  The two other girls cheered.

"No, really it's one of my own recipes" i chuckled back

"Whats in it?" the girls all synchopatedly chimed at me.

"Magic, Happy, Roofies, Viagra, and Unicorn Blood" I shot back with speed and precision.

"I will take a double!!" she giggled

I made her a doggystyle with a happy ending aka whipped cream and a cherry.  Her friends ordered a similar drink  called a "Reacharound" but insisted that a happy ending wasnt necessary because it was too messy. I asked who would be paying for the drinks and the first girl handed me her credit card. I happened to notice the last name on the card and couldn't help but bring up the fact that our last names were almost identical....We will just pretend my last name is "Hefner" to avoid any conflicts with true identity.

The worlds most in-bred pick-up line ever:

I like to call that...turning inbred into funbred.

However, realistically; Ms. Hafner was immediately written off, on the other hand her friend Callee and I hit it off that night. She continued to come in almost every weekend for a while.  Her friends told me she was married so I kept the conversation very PG-13, but we definitely hit it off. Callee and I flirted pretty heavily whenever she would visit the casino for a drink, which made me a little inquisitive of her relationship , but I knew that she was married so I never really pursued her. She told me that she was "happily" married, but her husband never came out with her...."which is just friggin' dangerous". She would ask me to dance with her every time she came out to the casino where I was bar tending, and since I was working; I never was able to go out and dance with her. The more Callee would flirt with me, the more I wanted to see her. Unfortunately, the more she flirted, the more obvious she made herself  "Stand out"  that she needed attention that her husband wasn't giving her. 

After months of tormenting each other with flirty-babble, Callee came in to my casino one night and said that her husband and she were getting a divorce. It was precisely that same weekend that Luisa (my on and off girlfriend) was packing up the last of her shit and moving out of my house. The timing was perfect!!

Despite a long drawn out wait for each other to be single, Callee and I officially just had our first real date on Halloween 2012 it was almost immediately following the day she served her husband divorce papers. I don't feel like I really got the whole story of why she and her husband were getting a divorce. I've heard her side and it seems kind of half-assed. She claims he is a serious alcoholic and his parents don't really like her. However, from what I understand from word of mouth: He treats her well, and it sounds like the guy is willing to tolerate her bullshit (which is more than most guys will do).

Callee had just gotten her psychology degree from Evergreen State University, which is kind of a hippie/lesbian school where you can actually make up your own degree and syllabus , so unfortunately with a degree like that... It bears very little credibility in my mind. It is almost impossible to start a career with a psychology or sociology degree. let alone one you can make up along the way, and even if you can find a job in the field that you magically created, it usually starts with a long internship which means she is not actually making money, but she is still working all the time. I can assume from her interest in that field that she is very good at reading people. However, she must have read me wrong, and that is why she was willing to go out with me.

I don't come off as a crazy guy when you first meet me, in fact I don't really think of myself as crazy either. Maybe just a little goofy, promiscuous and free-spirited. I work out pretty regularly so, despite my beer drinking and terrible diet I appear to be extremely healthy, so no one would guess that I go on regular benders and go out with random “Bad decision” girls with absolutely no intention other than to simply have a story to write about them later. I'm what most of the clam bumping female psychology majors from Evergreen state University would refer to as “A sick, misogynistic, chauvinistic pig”. Which frankly I would consider an understatement.

This Halloween weekend started off with a bottle of tequila and a bunch of broken promises with girls. One of them being “Kristina” the banker. Which just so happened to be, the mother of the four-year-old that I was supposed to go take trick-or-treating this Halloween, however I had woken up at the crack of 4:30 in the afternoon. Which just so happened to be the exact time that we were supposed to actually be trick-or-treating. Unfortunately for both of them, I give such a small amount of fuck that I didn't even bother to call with an excuse.

I was still so tequila drunk that I was crawling to the shower. I proceeded to fabricate my usual hangover cure with a couple of Percocets and some vitamin water....and more tequila of course. I took a scalding hot shower and just as soon as it all started to kick in Callee had sent a text message to me that said she wanted to go out with me for Halloween. Of course by this time I'm feeling pretty good and agreed to the date. I put on my costume, which made me about 4 inches taller, (which is awesome because at a mere 5'9”....I'm kind of short) and I wore a dread-locked wig, (which made me appear as though that I have hair.... “awesome hair!”). So I was feeling pretty good about myself. Not to mention the 1/2 of a Cialis I took in the middle of my tequila, percocet bender so I could pretty much perform sexually anywhere...with any thing.... at any time....and on top of that; not only could I do it over and over, but it felt better every time. It was like having Superjunk.

She explained that she had moved in with a friend during the divorce process and texted me the address and said that she would be ready at 7. I pounded down a couple more shots of tequila to wash down another round of the vitamin P's, took a toke of some awesome medical marijuana that I had scored from some other dick magnet that spent the night a couple nights prior. I packed my freshly used one-hitter (that conveniently looks like a metal cigarette) into my pocket, and headed out the door. I pulled up to the house right at 7pm, it was just starting to get dark but I could see everything very clearly. Much to my surprise there was a police car in the driveway of the house that Callee had told me she was staying at. As it turns out she was staying with the 36 -year-old cop, his three-year-old son and his 19-year-old hardcore christian girlfriend. Needless to say, showing up to my date's house with a cop car parked in front while wasted on a cocktail of drugs, alcohol and debauchery seemed like a pretty bad idea in itself, but even at the risk of going to jail I was committed to this date because I can't stop myself from kicking the sleeping bear.

The cop, his son and the girlfriend were all standing outside getting ready to go inside from trick-or-treating so there really was no turning back even if I was so inclined to do so. I sort of stumbled up to the front door where they were standing in front of their surprisingly large and luxurious house. They had already started decorating for christmas....it was weird.

I introduced myself quietly and tried to talk out of the corner of my mouth so no one could get a whiff of the weed that I had just smoked or the tequila that I had just downed 3 minutes ago. Ryan the cop was fairly soft spoken but polite, as was his girlfriend. His son Jake kind of hid behind the girlfriends butt as I tried to introduce myself. Lets face it, I was dressed up as a cross between Brett Micheals and The predator. I would be scared too. He invited me into the house and said “wait here”.

So there I was wasted on Tequila, Percocet, weed, and Cialis waiting for Callee to come down from her room. I was lucky enough to have created a costume where where I had kind of a heroin junkie rockstar theme going on, complete with eye make-up. So, my eyes were relatively disguised even when I took my sunglasses off. I could comfortably look someone straight in the eyes because they would never know, so as a precursor to not blowing my cover, I made eye contact with everyone that I talked to, especially the cop. The second wind of percocet was starting to take hold but, I could feel free to scratch an itch anywhere I wanted to because I was wearing a wig. (For those who don't actually know: copious amounts of Percocet makes people itch).

When Callee came downstairs she looked hotter than the stove top of Hell's kitchen, she kinda reminds me of my first girlfriend Jessica but hotter....crazier..... and sluttier. Her costume accentuated her crazy-slutty-hotness as well. She was a slutty Ladybug, complete with wings. Her hair was short but all over the place like she had just finished having an orgy with a gang of Tibetan Yaks in a blanket factory.

Callee had a magnificent set of headlights that were heaving themselves out of the seams of her silver costume top. I was turned on and ready to start our halloween bar hopping adventure.....but probably should have squeezed off the easy one before I left the house. I was a little too eager to get down to business.

    The first bar that we went to was called Peaks bar in Port Angeles, Washington. It's kind of a little dive where the locals (that aren't afraid to admit to being the town drunk) show up and quietly get wasted. It is not a club by any means. Just a hole in the wall bar, and for some reason or another, this is the kind of place Callee really likes. I suppose I can kind of understand that, since she comes from a very small town in the middle of nowhere, and she likes to be the center of attention. When you're in a bar that small and the majority of the patrons are lonely drunk men, you can only imagine the attention she gets when she walks in being the hottest thing that's walked in to their lives in months.

It's funny how open and honest people are after a few drinks, especially when they're lonely. We had probably been sitting down having a beer for all of 10 seconds before one of the barflies walked up and complimented Callee on how hot she looked, of course he noticed me sitting next to her and had to make some sort of comment on my appearance too, so it didn't look like they were blatantly hitting on her. They asked her if I was her date and then said that we were very attractive couple. Neither one of us argued, we were officially on a date.

We had been sort of touchy-feely for a while but had never really taken the next step. The bartender wench offered to take a picture of us in our Halloween costumes, so that was when I decided I should go in for a kiss and it was a doozy. It was the kind of passionate kiss that you would normally experience while making love to somebody that you were actually in love with. I was instantly in heat. The Cialis that had been surging through my system, punched my Boner rate down my pant leg and I had to excuse myself to the bathroom to adjust. I was starting to get antsy at this point because I felt like she had this sexual aura about her that made her appear as though she was just ready to go anytime, and since the place was dead. It gave me an excuse to lead her out of that bar and straight my car where I had hoped that she would want to fool around for a little bit. Since we had already gotten to the next step; I knew that we were into each other physically and I was...well “prepared”.

My theory is as follows: if she will make out with you in public, she will let you feel her up in public, if she lets you feel her up in public, she will let you play with her muffin, if she lets you play with her muffin, she will fondle you , if she fondles you...Game On Bro, just find a place....Hell, find a port-o-potty!!. 

I was prepared to start at step 4 or 5 with Callee when we got to my car. Instead, i started getting bombarded with text messages from another girl that I was also interested in, as well as my ex-girlfriend Luisa (who I was still in love/ lust with). This is when I realized that I need to focus in on one girl at a time per night because I obviously don't do well when my cell phone is on and other girls want to hook up at the same time. I tend to just go for all of them at the same time. I call it going into “Hef Mode”.

What is “Hef Mode” exactly? You ask?:

As most men, and few fortunate women know; Hugh M Hefner was the original player. He started playboy magazine in the early 50's and created an empire based on exploiting beautiful, successful, and educated women. Even in his late 80's he is rarely seen in public without at least one girl on each arm and a good woman at home waiting for him. He has been documented as actively dating up to 7 girls at a time since the 60's....the man is a god!!! When I go into “Hef mode”, I thank god that there is a living being to live up to in the highest standards of the sexual revolution.

The other girl that I was interested in is a Hooters girl named Kirsten, For those who don't know me, Hooters girls are Hef's Kryptonite. I have dated Hooters girls before and for whatever reason, I will choose them over any type of girl. They don't even have to speak English... in fact, I would prefer they don't speak it all. I love those sexy little Hooters outfits with their shorty shorts and tight tops with their push-up bras, making their tits look like mount Everest and k2 are trying to erupt right off of their chest cavity. It sends me into a downward spiral of lust like an incurable plague. Kirsten was in the area, so naturally I tried to tie the two dates together. I didn't even know if Kirsten was single. I didn't care. She is the epitome of my sexual appetite and currently I'm high on copious amounts of drugs, and on Cialis... and starting to get drunk.

Kirsten sent me a text message from the bar right down the street and I felt that it was in my best interest to take my current date there. Callee was actually okay with the idea even when I told her that we were meeting up with a Hooters girl at a different bar. I told her that I barely knew her, which is true and I also told her that I really had no interest in dating her....which was a lie. It was a short walk from my car to bar nine where we planned to meet up with Kirsten and on the way there I was starting to feel my stomach churn from the ridiculous amounts of tequila, beer, Cialis and Percocet that was starting to make a poisonous little cocktail in my guts.

(Myself with a few choice Hooter's Girls at a show somewhere..that's me in the middle=)

        I was trying to track down a lighter on the walk to the bar where Kirsten was waiting for us so I could light up a cigarette, because God knows I chain smoke when I'm starting to get my buzz on. Also, the cigarette and the cold might help put the old pork sword back in its flaccid sheath. I was walking like I had just sharted sulfuric acid. We got all the way to the front door of bar nine before I finally found a small group of fellow smokers. I politely asked Callee if we could hang out outside so I could smoke first. I huddled in with the smokers...oh thank god it was all ugly dudes. My boner went straight into the ground. I was trying to avoid kissing Callee so I could keep the ol' bone buried and walk normally again, but she didn't care. Every time we made eye contact she went in for a wet one. I happened to know the doorman so I didn't get carded, but she did. I always feel like it makes me look like a badass when I'm high-fiving the doorman, but it probably just makes me look like a barfly-drunk or a douchebag....or both.

We made our way up to the bar. I popped another couple of Percocet to try and even out the obnoxious bloodflow pushing toward my groin and washed them down with my Capt. Morgan and Coke. I bought her a beer and we headed back to the pool tables were set up. It was also where Kirsten was hanging out. I could pick Kirsten out of the crowd of a thousand people so it was easy to pick her out of the hundred or so that was in the bar. She radiates hotness. You don't even really need to see her at all. You can just feel the hotness radiate out of the crowd. She wasn't wearing a costume but she looked hot in anything that she wore. She could be wearing a White moomoo covered in Elephant shit, and still put every other girl in the bar to shame. When she saw me she got up and acted as if she had known me her whole life, which I really like. even though we've really only hung out once or twice. It made me kind of feel like I went out with the wrong girl for Halloween. I was in with a Hooters girl who happened to be the hottest girl in the bar. Callee wasn't impressed.

(Kirsten and I in the pool hall)

        Callee and I agreed to play pool on teams and I tried to get Kirsten to play on our opposing team, but she wouldn't do it. She said she would be our cheerleader, so she picked out a couple that was in line for us to play against. The girl was an adorable 4 foot nine blonde girl in some sort of S&M getup, and the guy was a beastly lumberjack. The lumberjack broke the pool balls up and he had some serious power behind it. I was actually rather intimidated by his size and force. He was a badass. The cute little blonde was very friendly and sweet and we sort of passed the phrase “God I suck at this” to each other at least 10 times throughout the game. I have a pretty vivid imagination, but when tons of drugs and booze come into play I start conjuring up ridiculous visions like putting antlers on people or imagining what the 4 foot nine inch blonde girl would look like, crossed with the big ass lumberjack....

(It certainly takes any intimidation away that I might be feeling towards the lumberjack.)

Kirsten performed her role as our cheerleader with cunning enthusiasm. She followed every shot of the game and cheered us on even though we sucked at it. Every time Kirsten got up to walk around I would catch myself staring at her ass and then I would look over it to Callee, who caught me staring at her ass. Whoops! Despite my eye groping and flirting with Kirsten, Callee and I were intermittently making out between every other shot or so. I think she started to get jealous that I was giving attention to another girl at the bar....a hot one. So she picked the closest guy to the pool table to strike up a conversation with, and started blatantly eyefucking every guy that walked by.

Callee was balls deep in a conversation with another random guy that she had just met and that's when I started to see it... Her desperate need for attention. Even though I was wholeheartedly trying paying attention to her the whole night, and keep her as my first priority, she felt the need to have more than one guy gawking over her, even if they were ugly. The guy she was talking to wasn't necessarily ugly, but he wasn't interested, and he knew that we were on a date. She kept pursuing him anyways, and that's when I started to get pissed.

I went outside and smoked a cigarette by myself and ran into a couple of girls out front that were all very flattering with compliments. Apparently my eyes look pretty rad when I am wasted on drugs and drunk while I'm wearing guyliner. Who knew? This smoke break gave me my confidence back. After watching my date eye fuck every other guy in the room it became more and more apparent what Callee's motive was this evening. It wasn't necessarily to have one guy to fool around with for the night. It was to have the attention from many and she got it. I was actually pretty disturbed at that point. I looked for Jessica so I could at least have somebody to talk to, because Callee had moved from that one guy to another guy in the corner who was by himself and looked lonely and miserable. I want to say that she was just being a good humanitarian and wanted to make this guy is feel wanted and appreciated, but honestly I think she just picked out a homely guy to get the extra attention that maybe I wasn't giving her. He had zero interest in her. It was more than obvious.

I wanted to get out of there so bad that I sort of threw the pool game that we were playing. I fucked up some of the easiest shots in the world just so the other team could beat us so we could leave. That was about when the Percocets started to really kick in like a freight train crashing into a mountain side. Callee was talking to the first guy she had been trying to suck attention out of when I exclaimed to her. It's your shot!!! and right as I exclaimed the word SHOT!! I threw up in my mouth and a little bit went up my nose.... And I'll tell you what folks; Percocet, Cialis, tequila, Captain Morgans, and beer vomit does not feel good running through your sinuses. My face turned bright red, but nobody saw me do it. It felt like I was about to give birth to a flaming porcupine through my nose holes. I quietly looked for a garbage can to spit out the cocktail of poison that was lingering in my mouth and sinuses. I tried desperately not to make eye contact with Callee because I knew that she was going to sneak in a smooch before it was her shot, but I failed. It wasn't really an open mouth kiss because I didn't open my mouth, but she started with her tongue and her lips followed. She has that vacuum like kiss where she actually likes to suck on your lips. It is a great feeling but, I couldn't help but feel incredibly sorry for her when I realized that she had just cleaned the spittle and vomit off of my lips unbeknownst to her. I stepped back and saw just a tiny drop of what was undeniably “my vomit” drip from the corner of her mouth. I winked at her as if everything was perfectly fine, but she gave me kind of a weird look as I looked around the room for a trash can. I finally found a trash can next to the bar and low and behold; there was Kirsten standing right next to it. Once again, I tried everything to avoid eye contact, but I had already trained myself throughout the course of the day to look everyone in the eyes no matter how desperately I wanted to avoid it. It was inevitable that I would look her right in the eye because I could see in my peripheral that she was looking right at me. I couldn't think of anything else to do. I had that nasty poisonous vomit in my mouth for a good solid 45 seconds and the smell was starting to emit from my nostrils. My cheeks were pushed out to the max and although Callee had sucked a slightly relieving amount out of my barf reservoir, I knew if I allowed myself to smell it for too much longer it would be a full blown projectile vomit so I did the unthinkable. Don't judge me.....

I swallowed it.

I was completely in shock and took a journey deep in my soul to avoid thinking about what I had just done to avoid a guttural aftershock. I shot Kirsten a very confident wink as she had no idea what kind of physical and psycological hell I was going through at that very moment. I ordered another Captain and Coke in hopes that I could wash the smell and taste of vomit out of my mouth. I used the first drink of my Capt. and Coke as kind of like gargle and just swished it around to get the chunks from out of my teeth. I no longer felt the need to projectile vomit, but I could smell the vomit breath coming out of my mouth every time that I talked to somebody, so I completely avoided Callee and Kirsten as I ordered a shot of Rumpleminz peppermint schnapps.

The pool game was finally over. We actually won by default, but we decided to quit playing, so we offered up our spot to whoever was next in line. I told Calllee that we should probably go to the next bar, which was called the cuckoo's nest to see you what was going on there, but really I was just trying to get her off of the homely guy that she was all over in the corner.

She was getting up and grabbing her purse when all of a sudden the song. “I've had the time of my life” from the “Dirty Dancing” soundtrack started playing. It was karaoke night and for the first time that whole evening somebody was able to carry a tune, so I asked her to dance....After all, nobody puts baby in the mother fucking corner.

To my surprise, we actually danced relatively elegantly together for being drunker than 10 Indians on Thanksgiving. She followed my lead with smiles and cheers with my cheesy drunken spins and dips. I was actually starting to have fun with her. We were making out intermittently throughout the beginning of the song. I always thought it was trashy when I was on the sidelines of the dance floor watching other people do this, but at this point of my drug driven drunken stoop-er I knew why people pull off this sleazy display of drunken debauchery. I forgot why, but I knew it at the time.

Before the song ended, she tried to get one of the guys that she was talking with earlier to dance with her. She asked me if it would be okay and I said “sure, I guess” because I am a huge pussy whipped pussy. He then proceeded to deny her so she came back to me on the dance floor and we finished the song together dirty dancing style, which ended with me picking her up off her feet and making out with her with my freshly peppermint schnapped vomit mouth. That was when we decided to leave and go to the cuckoo's nest.

Looking back, that was probably when I should have taken her home. Chances are pretty good that we were both sober enough to actually be able to fool around and remember it. Instead we went to the Coocoo's Nest Bar (kicks self in ass) . We pulled into the parking lot of the Coocoo's nest in Port Angeles about 3 miles away. Immediately after I parked, we started making out heavy and hard. We started groping each other, and she started to rub on my package which immediately got hard. So hard in fact, that when I leaned back to unhook Callee's bra it actually busted the seams on my pants. She asked if I had a condom and I said “yes, let's use it”, and she said “not yet. I want to go in and have a drink first”. I was actually starting to feel the redness in my face as I was getting upset about this. Why do girls do this? They get a man all riled up and asked the right questions, we give them the right answers, and then they would just want to save it for later. That to me is annoying. So with some reluctance, we went into the bar and it was pretty much dead. I said, “this was probably a really bad idea, we should probably just go back to your place and ravage each other”.

Once again, we started making out...things started looking up...Then...She whispered:

“Well, lets just have one beer and then I'm all yours”. Well, pretty much anything sounds sexy when its being whispered in your ear by a hot chick and you are fully aroused. She could have whispered something like “I have explosive diarrhea, and my hemorrhoids are flaring up, so I should probably change my colostomy bag”. It wouldn't have made a difference at this point.

We hung out for a little bit and nursed beer at our own little two person table. We started talking about getting back to her place for a movie night and sensual massage. That was of course the same moment that she noticed the group of older gentlemen on the other side of the bar. She didn't even ask me if it was alright to flirt this time. She just bolted right towards them. She sat down pretty much right in the middle of them, which gave me no room to sit down next to her. I slowly walked my way towards the small crowd that was gathering around her. I stood behind her as she was explaining to them what she does for work. She teaches autistic children at the high school, which sounds very admirable on a first encounter even though she didn't actually get paid for it.

. The guys at the bar pretended to be interested in her conversation because she was the only girl in the bar, and she is pretty. She started clinging on to the guy sitting directly next to her and was proceeding to be very touchy-feely with him and despite the fact that she and I were kissing intermittently during her conversation (that was directed at everyone in the room), she proceeded to be blatantly slutty with this guy that she didn't even know. At this point I had completely lost interest in her. I was about to head for the door and just leave her there.. She was no longer my problem. I actually turned my head to look at the door and make my move. In my peripherals, I saw something beautiful....

Kirsten the Hooters girl walked in. I'm saved! I knew that flirting with Kirsten for a while might get Callee's attention. Callee was no longer the only girl in the bar. This could be the ultimate slut showdown!!

Kirsten is very down-to-earth and you can actually hold a conversation with her. So, I continue to do so while Callee tried to make a spectacle of herself with the local barflies. I had to pee all of a sudden so I bolted on the conversation I was having with Kirsten. “I'll be right back” I said.

I had the most philosophical pee of my life. I went over every aspect of every conversation that I had with Callee throughout the whole evening. What does it all mean? What did she mean by that last comment? Why does she keep flirting with everyone but me? We are on a date right? Shouldn't we be trying to get to know each other? I know I am better looking than any of the guys at the bar...ya, that is kind of vain but, there really isn't a whole lot of competition when the next youngest guy in the bar is 30 years older than you

I walked back to the bar where she was still surrounded by the same group of old men. I was fully prepared to just say “I am over this whole “Halloween date idea and I just want to take you home and never talk to you again”. Instead, when I tried to inject myself into the conversation, she turned to me in distress, with tears in her eyes. She said one of the guys in the group that she was talking to made fun of her, and they were all laughing at her. I guess I wasn't really paying attention to her alcohol intake, but by this time all of the shots that she had taken at the last bar were starting to kick in. She is one of those “sober to blackout, with no in between kind of drunks”. Unbeknownst to me.

Hef:What were they making fun of you for?

Callee:They call me a slut. (slightly slurring)

Hef: That's weird, why would they call you a slut? Because you're on a date with some guy, and you jumped into the middle of a group of guys and started flirting with all them? (sarcasm intended)

Callee: So you're not going to back me up on this?!?!?

Hef:No I think it's pretty slutty too!

Hef:Do you want another beer?

Callee: No, I want to leave.

Hef:Okay, fine, lets go.

Callee: Why is everyone being so mean? Every other guy tonight was really nice to me!

Hef:Are you starting to see a theme here? The first bar we went to you begged for attention, and got it. The second bar we went to, you begged for attention and got it. The third bar we went to you begged for attention, you got it, but they were honest with you, and now I'm being honest with you... You do in fact act like a slut.

Callee: Why can't you just stand up for me? I'm just trying to have fun! (noticeably intoxicated at this point)

This is when I become a little skeptical about her psychology degree. How could she not see this scenario from other peoples perspective? Don't they teach you this in college? “If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck”... I was actually starting to believe that old theory about people becoming interested in psychology because they actually just want to find out what is wrong with themselves.

She packed up her purse and we left. On the drive home Callee continued to banter about how nobody stands up for her. This apparently was a problem in her relationship with her husband, who incidentally also calls her a slut. And that's when it got psycho.

She had been texting somebody throughout the course of the night, but never told me who it was and I didn't care, but I'm assuming it was her husband because that's who's house she wanted me to drop her off at after I had made it very clear that everybody she talked to throughout the course of the night thought she was a whore.

I was just about to fall asleep while driving. I had the heat all the way up, but my window was down all the way so I could stay awake. It was cold, but I needed the air flow to avoid the vom. Callee asked me to pull over at the Chevron a couple of miles before the exit that leads to both of our houses. She was very broad about her query and said that she just needed to “grab something from Chevron”. When we got there she didn't say anything, she just got out of my Explorer and slammed the door on the way out. She stomped quickly towards the door of the Chevron as a big white Chevy truck pulled up into the parking spot to the right of my car. I was thinking to myself “what is the purpose of lifting an unusually large truck, even higher?” My eyes were still focused on the front door of the Chevron. I was annoyed at this point. I thought that we were going to have a nice romantic body massage rubdown and possibly some much needed physical attention for both of us. I was imagining her body, naked and warm. I was envisioning how her hair would look the next morning after I had roughed her up. How could I make her sex hair be any more “sex hair” than it already was? I had planned on just grinding her head into the pillows no matter what we did, just to keep that hair crazy. I was so relaxed in this fantasy that I may have actually closed my eyes when I heard the CRASH!!! From my passenger side window. I was still entranced, but I slowly turned my head to the passenger side. I was slightly in shock, but I remember the red brick that bounced on my front passenger seat....because I still have it.

It was Callee's husband! I was in lala land thinking about this poor bastards wife, so I wasn't really coping with reality the way I should have. I didn't know what to expect if I were to have had an encounter with Callee's husband. I knew he worked for the government, but never heard any details. Somehow I imagined a beastly man. He sounded like a WWF wrestler screaming through his truck window. He kept shouting a lot of loud and hateful words out of his truck window and incongruously through my freshly broken window that were very vulgar and loud, but the only words I could make out were: cheating!, slut!, whore!, manwhore, and bitch!. I can only imagine that he was on the phone with her as she was in the store but aimed his vulgarity through my broken window. I boggled those words in my head as if he was yelling them at me alone, and as calm and relaxed as I was, all I could think of at that point was....”dude my car didn't have sex with your wife, it wasn't even thinking about it”. He opened the seemingly gigantic door that I would have thought to clear the top of my explorer judging by the lift of his truck. I could only see his feet hit the sidestep of his truck both at the same time like he was trying to break it off of his truck. He stopped for a second to shut the door of his truck and to adjust his underwear out of his asscrack (I only assume) I was still very relaxed, maybe due to the drugs and booze or perhaps the shotgun that I had planted comfortably in my lap after the brick flew through my window and his truck door opened up. I still never leave home without a shotgun behind the seat. Nothing quite says: im not here to play like a 12 guage. Nonetheless I was curious what kind of story had been fabricated by his wife to make me look like the bad guy. I was prepared for a full blown blood bath. He got to my window and saw the gun. I calmly asked him to “step inside my office.”

Hubby:What are you gonna shoot me?

Me:Yup..

His eyes widened as I picked up my shotgun and slowly stashed it in the back seat.

Me: im just kidding man. Hop in the car I think we need to talk.

Hubby: haha ok.

He got in and I calmly explained the whole story to him about the bars and her attention whoredom. Callee had apparently fabricated a lie that I hit her in the face at a bar and needed a ride from Chevron. Apparently this scenario had happened a time or two, which was the real reason he was divorcing her. Thats right....HE served HER the divorce papers. He said he worked a lot and really wasn't very affectionate with her in the first place. He wasn't ever really into her, and the crazy shit she was doing was getting out of hand. He apologized for the window and offered to pay for it. I told him that Callee should be the one to pay for it since it was her fault. He agreed.

We started our vehicles and planned on abandoning Callee. She raced out of the store like a bat out of hell and She yelled to her hubby “can I at least get a ride home with you?” He poked his head out of His rig and said "Ummmm, No sweetheart, you can walk from here".

We both peeled out from opposite ends of the Chevron parking lot in opposite directions. I drove home alone, frustrated, annoyed and once again losing another glimmer of faith in the opposite sex. Not to mention its 30 degrees outside and I don't have a passenger window, destroying any possibility of going back to the Coocoos nest to try and start a fire with Kirsten.

Callee had toyed with me, and every guy in every bar that she went to with me that night. Maybe just for attention that her husband wasn't giving her. Maybe she just wanted her husband to know that she was desirable to other men, so he would see what a great catch she was and he should appreciate her more. Maybe she is actually a succubus from the depths of Hell and farts fire. Who knows...either way...

That was one really bad date

As a follow up: Callee did bring a blank check into my workplace a week or two later for the passenger window for my Explorer. She came with a companion....any guesses? Believe it or not, it was the guy that showed no interest in her at all from the second bar. I am certainly no psychologist but does anyone see the pattern?