Me as a Scottish Whore
So, though I dealt with steaming piles of nasty shit from old men, I also got to hit on a lot of girls, and I loved it. But one chick in particular taught me a valuable life lesson: women are manipulative and emotional and out of their Goddamn minds.There was a girl who was absolutely stunning- smoking-fucking-hot. She had legs for days and a very sexy, dark European look. Her name was Katia and she came in to see me fairly often. She would come in and the male bartenders would get boners underneath their kilts looking at her, and would never miss an opportunity to throw about lewd comments about how bad they wanted to bang her.
Katia always sat in my section. She would strut in, sit down at one of my tables, and flirt with me for hours. I really enjoyed when she came in- this girl was confident and seemed like she knew what she wanted. We were always very fliratious and animated when we talked with each other. But, she had a boyfriend, who she would sometimes bring with her, who would linger awkwardly on the side-lines as me and Katia talked. My instincts told me they were probably interested in a threesome, so I never really pursued her, and kept the relationship at a friendly, interested, but unobtainable level. Katia eventually got my number, I had given it to her not ever expecting her to really call or try to hang out.
A few weeks later, on a Tuesday night, I was getting off of work around midnight when Katia started blowing up my phone. I ignored the first call, but after she sent a text message that said “Please answer me, I need your help!” and another phone call, I picked up- warily.
Me: Hey, Katia! How are you girly.. what’s going on?
Katia: EVVVVVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Ah shitttttt… Katia was bawling. I had been hoping that her text message for assistance, and persistant phone calls would be to help her solve a stupid drunken dispute about some trivia fact that she knew I’d know the answer to. But no. She was wailing on the other end of the line, and I had no idea how to react.
Me: Katia, are you okay?
Katia (in hysterics): Noooooooooooooooo…. Eva! Eva my boyfriend and I are fighting and he’s threatening me and he just kicked me out of the house and I have nothing, no keys, no money, nothing and none of my fucking friends are answering their phones.. (sniff.. sniff.. sniff..) Oh my GODDDDDDD, I don’t know what to do. I can’t be by myself right now, I can’t, I want to go run into traffic. I don’t want to be alive right now.. Oh my GOOODDDDDDDDDDD.
Me (barely knowing this girl, and only knowing her as a fun flirt, not wanting to get involved): Umm.. well.. what do you want me to do Katia?
Katia: I only live a block away from your work, please, please just come and pick me up and sit with me until I can get a hold of SOMEBODY, ANYBODY! Eva, I feel so bad doing this to you, I know we don’t know each other very well I just don’t know what to dooooooo….”
Me: Okay.. okay.. I can come pick you up and we can go hang out for a while.. I have to get up at 5 a.m. and go do a promotion for work though- so I obviously want to help you but I really need you to try and figure out some kind of plan okay hon?”
Katia: (sniff.. sniff..) “Okaaaay. Thank you Eva! This means a lot to me, you are such a nice girl..”
So, she gave me directions to her house and I drove to go get her. When I pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, I was speechless. This girl was rolling around on the cement ground of the parking lot, wailing and screaming. I slowly pulled up next to her and got out of my car..
“Evvaaaaa I’m so glad you’re here I can’t stand him, he is evil and he’s in my house and I don’t know what to dooooo…” she cried.
I leaned down and pulled her up from the ground…
“We’ll figure it out Katia.. You need pull yourself together, gorgeous. We’ll figure something out,” I tried consoling her.
I packed her flailing, lithe body into my car and hopped back into the driver’s seat. Even though it was now apparent that Katia was heavily intoxicated, we decided we would go to the bar down the street until she figured out where she was going to stay and what she was going to do and if she could get a hold of anybody.
As I drove, she explained what had happened between her and her boyfriend that night, and I absorbed what I could through the sniffs and sobs. I tried to avoid looking at her face because at this point I just felt embarrassed for her. Her make-up was smeared all over her face, her cheeks were tear stained, and she had to keep wiping her nose because it was running from crying too hard. The sexy, confident, woman who always looked so collected was crumbling before me. I reached a hand out and rubbed her back as I drove, anxious to sit this girl down, wipe her face off, get a beer, and help her get her shit together.
Too bad it was 1 a.m. on a Tuesday. As I pulled into the parking lot of the nearest bar, it looked like the chances of the place being open were dismal. The lights were off and there were no cars anywhere to be found. I slowed my car in front of the door and was about to ask Katia for any other ideas when she brightened up and declared, “It’s okay, I know the owners! I’m sure we can just go in there anyway!” and proceeded to hop out of the car and go and yank on the door as hard as she could.
The alarm started going off immediately. Looking like a scolded puppy, she ran back towards me..
“Oh my god.. I’m so sorry! I thought I’d be able to go in! I know the owner!”
I wasn’t really aware if she realized that “knowing somebody” to get drinks at a bar was different than being given the divine power of opening the locked doors when the place was closed. Needless to say, I sped out of the parking lot to avoid any questioning by the cops who would be showing up shortly, who would have made the night all the more uncomfortable.
At this point, I was tired. Tired from working a double that day, emotionally exhausted from trying to console the disaster in my passenger seat, and not looking forward to waking up in T-minus 4 hours to go get my pictures taken for advertisements for the Tilted Kilt. We drove around for thirty more minutes as she continued to suck out all of my energy with her crying and blatant inability to regain composure. All I wanted was solace. I wanted to drop this girl off somewhere so I could crawl into my bed at home and burrow into my blankets and not have to worry about what I was going to do with her. I kept holding out hope that she would get in touch with somebody and find a place to stay. But, eventually I decided that even if I had to continue to deal with an unstable, emotional Katia, I’d rather be doing it from the comfort of my home. So, I gave in.
“Katia.. I have a spare bedroom at my house. You can crash in it if you’d like, but I really just need to get home. I can give you a ride back to your place at 5 a.m. cuz that’s when I have to be at work.. is that okay?”
She whimpered and nodded. The rest of the twenty minute drive to my house was filled with her crying about her relationship and me silently nodding and inserting the concerned “Mmhmmm’s” when necessary. When we pulled into my apartment complex at 2 a.m., my ears were ringing from her sobbing. I was so happy to be home as we dragged our sorry asses up the stairs to my place. Then, as soon as I inserted my keys and jiggled my front door open, Katia was in my house and bee-lining towards the kitchen. Once there, she opened my refrigerator and pulled out a can of beer- which she then proceeded to stab in the side and shotgun. Once finished, she spiked the can onto the ground, and pulled out another. She repeated the process three times, as I stood there watching, stunned.
“Oh my GODDDDD I needed that,” she said when beer number four was gone, and shrugged.
I decided not to comment, because all I wanted to do was sleep, so I showed her back to the spare bedroom and went to grab her pair of pajamas. As I walked into the spare room to hand her the clothes, Katia knocked them out of my hands, grabbed the collar of my shirt, threw me onto the extra bed, crawled on top of me, and started kissing me. The pathetic looking tear stained girl who I had been trying to piece together for the last 3 hours had suddenly transformed into a vixen on the prowl. I was so tired, and confused, and completely clueless as to what this girl needed- I just went with it.
She wanted to be in control, and I let her be. She stopped and told me she had never been with a woman before but had always fantasized about it. I let her keep going. I was so defeated by how crazy this girl was that, and so bewildered at how premeditated this entire night had been to get to this point. She kept going for a while, then suddenly became unsure and asked me to take over. I did, and after we finished I was drained of every ounce of energy in my body. I rolled onto my back and looked over at her, and as I did, she sat bolt upright, suddenly, like some kind of switch had flipped.
She looked at me over her shoulder, looking somehow victorious, and said, “Okay! I’ll let myself out.. I’ll get a cab home.”
And she got up and walked out of my room, completely composed, as if nothing had just happened.
And though I felt like I had lead blocks for feet, when I heard the door slam, I ran into the living room and locked the door behind her as fast as I could.
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