Those slimy assholes are like disgusting slugs. Go back to your rock!

It’s Friday, so why not end the week with a slimy asshole story? I should invest in some rubber stamps
imprinted with the word “loser” so I can mark each new jerk… I’ll call this one Real World because at first meeting, he reminded me of a past cast member (with the same first name. Weird).

Anyways, we were drinking/party buddies for a few years, and then one drunken hot summer night, we made out. Because that’s what friends do, right? Anyway. All that matters for the end of this story is that we did not sleep together. Trust me.

This first base hook-up was about two years ago.

Fast forward to about two months ago, I receive a private phone call at work (he Googled me. Awesome). I’m surprised at first, being that it’s been some time since we spoke — in fact, I forgot who he was for a moment. Real World tells me that he has a girlfriend who he cares oh, so very much for, who happened to enter his life right around the time when said make out party occurred. Way awesome. Continue…

He says his girlfriend believes something happened between us by merely seeing a group picture from the night we all hung out (of which I was included) by the photo date on the computer. Crazy is gonna keep coming. Keep up…

Long story, short, he asks me to cover for him in the coincidence we may run into one another during baseball season. Phone call ends.

A couple weeks go by, I forget about the situation after a few laughs with my current BF, and I receive yet another phone call at work. Story changed a little bit. Real World came clean to his woman that I made out with him. And that’s, like, why we don’t hang anymore. Stupidly, I agree to his “plan,” you know, in case I ever run into this girlfriend who I do not know. I’m beginning to find new reasons as to why we are not friends and only bar buddies.

Maybe another week… (two?) go by, and I get yet another private call on my work number, but this time, it is HER. She explains that Real World came clean about everything. As if there was anything really to tell. Regardless, she’s apparently a masochist much like myself, and wanted FULL gross details of everything that happened on night in question.

Mind you… I’m at work. And yes, I work in a generally liberal environment, but in my head, at that time, it was completely awkward.

I then make the mistake of giving Slowly-Turning-Psycho my cell number to call me after work hours. She doesn’t call me until another day or two (I recognized her area code in the missed call list). Yes, I missed the call unintentionally, though she did not leave a message. But at this point, I’m annoyed and feel it’s not my place to be interrogated by Speedily-Turning-Psycho because HER boyfriend lied. Cheated on her. Whatever. I ignore all calls. She did call my office number a few more times as well.

And another week or two goes by. Once again, the memory fades of the story I’m not supposed to forget, and I see an unknown — yet slightly familiar — number come up on cell when I was on a mini-weekender-vacay. It’s Real World, but I don’t confirm that until he leaves me a message. He, again, needs to clarify events of the night in question… which in my mind reads, “Let’s get our stories straight.” She stalks calls me shortly thereafter. Once again, I ignore both of their calls.

Yeah, you think this has gone on for far too long too, right? I then get an email. Apparently, Holy-Crap-Psycho called ANOTHER girl (at her workplace too), harassing her about explicit relationship info (read: Real World cheated with her too). I know this because Another Girl is a friend of mine. They ironically met on Match, but I knew them both. Which, neither of us knew, nay were TOLD, that Real World had a girlfriend. Blah, blah, blah…

I get an email from Real World asking if Psycho has contacted me with a fake email address that looks like his name, but is not, save for an extra period and middle initial or some shit. He informs me that Really-Really-Psycho created an account to resemble his personal email — and to NOT respond — even if I thought it was him. I respond, copy BOTH emails — regardless of fake Real World, real Real World or Psycho-Psycho — and demand they stop contact.

Two points here: 1) we did not sleep together and there wasn’t anything more to “tell.” Sure, kissing is cheating in most eyes — I get that. He’s a dick for lying to me, lying to her… and well, being a dick. 2) there comes a point in relationships where you need to figure out shit for yourself. Whether I’m lying (“covering” for him), he’s lying (“covering” his own ass)… it’s the girl’s (in this story) decision to make — and that does NOT include harassing the shit out of an innocent third party to the point of threatening legal restraining orders. Yeah, the situation got to that point for me.

See? These slimy assholes really do exist.

I get it — we were friends, and apparently I was supposed to be “friend-like” by reciprocating the lie. Reciprocating? Perpetuating? What works here? My question, guys… ladies: where does the “friendship” standard end? Would you cover for a friend in this situation? Would you sell the slimy slug out?

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