The Dimwitted Boyfriend
Posted by thedarwinexception on October 25, 2006
So, admit it. I seem like a normal person, right? I seem friendly and nice
and pleasant, don’t I?
Well, I’m not. I’m not normal, I’m not friendly, I’m not nice and I’m
certainly not pleasant. Why? Because people are idiots. And they piss me off.
All the time. I can’t stand to be around people most of the time, and I hate
above anything else to have to “entertain”. You know, that stupid socially
obligatory chit chat and back and forth mindless chatter that most people like
to engage in. It irritates me. I hate people who drop by, unannounced, wanting
to hang around. I can’t get rid of them fast enough.
Now, this really wouldn’t be a problem, this anti social lifestyle I so wish
to enjoy, but I have a husband who is a fucking social butterfly. He is the King
of “Nice and Friendly”. Hubby has a way of making friends no matter where he is,
and he’s downright fucking pleasant to everyone. He has a way of listening, and
knowing when to nod politely so that the person he is listening to thinks they
are the most important person in the world. And hubby has the added bonus of
being “cool”. Men like him. Women love him, teenagers worship him.
All this means is a never ending stream of “visitors”. And when you factor in
the “idiot quotient” inherent in the fact that these are Malone residents, and
couple that with an intolerance for ignorance, and my own sarcastic nature,
well, it’s surprising no one has ended up in the woodchipper as of yet.
Case in Point: John.
I like John. Well, I *did* like John, until he became a Darwin Exception. He
reminded me of my own sons, he’s young (well, we *think* he’s young. He has
claimed to be, on several different occasions, several different ages. I can’t
quite pin him down to one age, as of yet), he’s an OK looking kid, and for some
reason, he brought out my maternal instincts.
We met him through his Uncle, who was a friend of Paul’s. John was getting
kicked out of his mother’s house where he was staying. Not because his mother
was mad at him or anything, but because she had gotten a new apartment through
Section 8 and wasn’t allowed to have other people living there. So after she
called John in Texas, where he was living and working, and talked him into
coming home to Malone because “she missed him”, she let him stay with her for a
month or so and then announced that while she was glad she was able to talk him
into coming home, he couldn’t like actually *stay* with her, he’d have to find a
different place to live.
John’s Uncle talked to Paul and asked if John could stay in our extra room,
and in lieu of rent, John would be willing to help out with some of the projects
we had going on around here, since he was a good worker. Paul agreed.
Now, John is a ladies man. Likes to fuck around with all the little ho’s that
are in no way lacking in availability in Malone. In the three months he was
staying with us he ran through a dozen different little twits. All in different
stages of maximizing their government benefits. Some had no kids (yet – these
were the really young ones), some were staying with their own mother’s and only
had one or two kids, some were in possession of their own Section 8 vouchers and
had one or two kids, some were scouting out for suitable baby daddy’s.
I really didn’t want John to get trapped. I knew at that point that the best
possible scenario for these teenage mama’s was to nab an unsuspecting guy, get
pregnant, and thereby be ensured of either a raise from the government for the
dubious skill of being able to fuck and expand their family, or the promise of a
check for starting a new family. I tried to explain to John over and over and
over – “Wear a condom!” “These girls will trap you!” “Don’t Fuck without
*knowing* you won’t get her pregnant!”
And then he met Daniele.
Daniele was obviously “in love”. She damned near stalked the boy – running
off any other ho who was sniffing around the house, coming around at odd hours
to see what he was doing, calling constantly. I knew this one wasn’t going to
give up without getting pregnant first.
And John ended up moving in with her. And her kid from the last guy she got
pregnant by in order to “keep a guy around”.
I told him “It’s a matter of time, John, she’s going to get knocked up.” “Oh
no!”” He protested – “She’s on birth control!” And I told him, “Yeah, which
means she’s controlling when she gives birth.”
Two months later, she’s pregnant. Timed, coincidentally, to just about the
time John is losing interest and wants to move on.
And he’s fucking around on her with every little twit that walks by – he’s
fucked her friends, her sister, her next door neighbor, his buddy’s girl…and
although Daniele knows he’s fucking around, well, she really doesn’t care, as
long as he’s living with her and “being her man”, and as long as she gets a
check every month. Because her mama has taught her, and she has learned well,
that the most important thing you can do for yourself is Maximize Your
She’s due in November. But she has her own issues, and her own reasons for
being a prime Darwin Exception, able to piss me off just by living.