Sometimes you just gotta rant
Well, I know I get mad. Maybe you do to. Feel free to use this thread to rant on.
I'm going to start it off.
I fucking HATE saying goodbye.
In fact, I usually do so with a slap to the tit and as few words as possibly. Maybe as few as "hey, where's my change, I gave you a fifty." Nobody pays that much for a suck off, no matter how romantic.
One time I was at my friend Justin's house chilling and beatboxing. Now, Justin is a pseudonym for my friend Rachel, but since that bitch won't accept a drink from me anymore, I'm going to change her name out of spite. So there we were at Justin's place when her dad comes in. He looks tired again, and is stumbling around slurring his words in anger.
One time I asked Justin why her father always yelled and threw things, and why his breath smelled like my uncle's car seats, she said it was because he was tired, and he became mad when he got tired. Now I was only a pretty big kid at the time, and I didn't yet know of the joys and smells of cheap whiskey. I wish I could ask her today what he was thinking drinking so much when he was that tired and angry... such a waste of good liquor.
So anyway, the important thing to remember was that I loved Justin. She is the only good friend I've ever had these feelings for. And I've never spoken of them before this day.
One time I was coming over to Justin's house to play. I was really excited... so excited I even brought some of my dad's beer so we could get wasted. When I got there the door was locked. Fucking inconsiderate of them to lock me out like that, I thought as I broke a window out back and climed in.
I walked up the stairs, taking two at a time, because lets face it: far from being a slobbery wet-assed man mower, I was a pretty big guy.
I got to her room just as her father was stumbling out. He looked dishevelled so I told him to have a drink and get some sleep before he hurts someone or himself.
He just looked at me and said:
"Immagum wha, whora blum... ma tmmmb" I never found out what language he was speaking... probably wop.
As I boldly walked into Rachel's room, and pinched her ass hello, I noticed that instead of greeting me happily, or as is more common giving me an apathetic "oh hey" she was shaking on the ground weeping.
GAY, I thought to myself.
But, having nothing better to do, I got down there with her, and stayed there until she stopped.
"are you alright?" I asked. I was starting to get worried, because those beer I brought were getting warm.
"We can't see each other anymore..." she said.
"I don't understand... I brought you beer" I motioned to the beers. Getting warmer bitch, I thought.
"I can't... I can't stand that you saw that...." she replied.
"Saw what?" I asked puzzled. I actually was more drunk than puzzled. I had originally brought more beer than I had on me, but the walk is like ten minutes.
"... please don't, you saw... my dad..." she weeped. I HATE when girls weep. Why can't they just punch weaker people like guys do?
"Your dad?" I asked... then suddenly it dawned on me. "oh... he was probably just so tired that he stumbled into the wrong room. I have an uncle who goes into other people's houses by accident all the time. He gets so tired that sometimes he even mistakenly sells their stuff to pawn shops. When he gets some sleep, I'll bet he just feels right foolish"
She started crying again, so I tuned her out and opened a beer.
After about three more, and her pleading for me not to make it harder (believe me, at this point I doubt I could have made it hard if I was offered a free suck off), I stood up and said... "ok, if you're sure you want me to leave... I'll miss you."
Now I was feeling damn emotional. Don't get me wrong: I'm no pillow biting gas station cock gobbler. But losing the woman you love is about as hard a thing as you'll ever face. The only thing that came close was getting to level 7 on the original mario then having my mom trip over the wire and ruin my game.
As I slowly walked away I heard her call my name.
I turned, hopeful...
A single tear rolled down her pretty face, and she said in a barely audible whisper, a ghostlike mournful sigh," nothing.... goodbye."
My heart broke in that instant, and I knew it was goodbye for real.
Wiping the tear from my own eye, I licked the palm of my hand and have her tits, very well developped for a girl her age, a good slap. Then I walked out of her life.
I didn't see Justin again until college, when I as at a party and I offered to make her a drink. Not just any drink my patented whiskey/vodka/tequilla/unlabled bottle power drink. I ended up spilling some on her dress and she didn't talk to me again, or accept another drink from me. I think she likes beaver now.