I’m feeling a little better, though I still have some congestion in my chest. Time to get back to the plantation, my friends. Have a great week.
The Psycho Magnet Chronicles
Never sleep with anyone crazier than you my son.
When my father offered the above advice I was initially overjoyed. After all, there aren’t too many people crazier than yours truly, I thought. I was wrong. Really, I was dead wrong. I’m only half joking when I kid around that I’m a certified psycho magnet. I seem to attract the crazies in a way that makes me doubt my own tenuous grasp of sanity.
I’ve had a really great collection of psychos in my life. There was the spoiled rich trust fund baby who wanted me to cut her during sex and who was genuinely proud of the fact that she managed to total three cars in the six-month period we were together.
I had another who actually paid someone to kill me. Or at least hurt me really bad. The problem with her plan was that her hired “killer” was no killer. Besides, everyone thought I was connected with what was rumored to be some cartel. I caught him peering into my bedroom window one night and managed to sneak up behind him. We got high with the money she paid him.
I believe a large part of this phenomenon had to do with the fact that at one time I wasn’t very selective about whom I went to bed with. I mean, at the time my attitude was, like, who cares? If she’s gotta a nice ass and the chemistry was there, I’d hold off on that sanity issue when we got to it, right? Another part of it is that I’m very accepting of people. I tend to see past the quirks (such as cutting behavior, suicidal tendencies, and boundary issues, for example) and see the natural radiance of people. Finally, I think people who have “issues” gravitate to my ability to empathize at a deep level. I can’t help it, it’s what I do and empathy is for zanies what blood is for vampires — it’s irresistible.
A more recent psycho episode occurred with a lovely lady who was my tailor. When I was in a committed relationship, my significant other would tease me anytime we went to her because this woman had the most glorious beautiful ass derriere, and my ex knew how much I appreciated a well-rounded ass. She was Russian and a natural blonde. Her face was a bit too blunt, but was pretty in a peasant-girl kinda way, and she had great cheekbones.
My ex would tell me that she liked me, but I never paid it any mind, thinking it was her way of teasing me. Once I was no longer in the relationship, my tailor noticed ex was no longer in tow and, short story short, we began seeing each other. At first, it was fantastic. She was, like, eager and quick to me make me feel good. And the sex was out of this world.
Happy, happy, joy, joy!
Well, you know the deal. At first, she became very clingy, especially as our sexing became more intense. Clingy is a particularly unattractive character trait. I mean, it can be cute up to a point, but normally, clingy tends to repel people. I know, I can be a little clingy myself, but I tend to keep it in check. The clingier she became, the more I distanced myself. The more I distanced myself, the more her clinginess turned to anger. The angrier she became, the uglier the situation became. She transformed from this beautiful dream woman into a shrew, calling me all kinds of names, questioning my manhood and sexual prowess, and then immediately calling me on the phone asking to forgive her. Typical abusive behavior pattern.
Eventually the anger turned into full-blown psychosis. I was getting harassing calls at my job, at home, and she was turning up in person unannounced at all the wrong times. When I wouldn’t answer her calls, she would leave really ugly messages, like, “Who are you fuckin’ in the ass now, you fuckin’ faggot.” Shit like that. A concerned friend feared for my health.
Finally, I was coming home one day at 5am with a close woman friend. Now mind you, this friend is married to a friend and our relationship is purely platonic. I have known her for decades and she’s one of my closest, trusted friends. Anyway, she had driven me home after a night of hanging out and she wanted to use my bathroom before she headed home, a good hour’s drive from my place.
Well, you know who was waiting in the lobby of my building, right? At fuckin’ 5am in the morning! She started a huge stink, insulting my friend and becoming so unhinged, to the point that my normally peaceful friend wanted to kick her ass. Of course, none of that happened and I ended up calling the police. My friend still teases me about that night, by the way.
She left me alone after that, except for the occasional phone call, and I went on with my life. Then one day without thinking, I answered my cellphone and it was her. I still remember the barely contained psycho edge to the tone of her voice as she let me know how she had found a real man and not “faggot” like me, and all the while I’m mouthing the words, “Thank You!” I refrained from saying anything lest I encouraged her to rethink her romance and then she hung up. Whew!
There are more, too many to enumerate here, but I’m happy to say I’ve become more discriminating in my romantic choices. In any case, I’m sure I’m someone else’s psycho story. But in my defense, I’m not a stalker, or obsessive. I’m just self destructive! LMAO!
Any other stories for the “Psycho Magnet Chronicles”?
My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization…