The little shit had stolen the limited edition U2 CDs I'd been given in Madison. He didn't even like U2. *breathe* *breathe*
A few days after Seith had gone home I got a call from the lovely people at Bowflex. They wanted to reconfirm that the machine I ordered should now be delivered to Southern State, and not my house.
I explained that they had the wrong person, I did not order a Bowflex, and the other person who lived at this number had moved to Southern State, and I had no way to contact him.
I send Seith an e-mail telling him the Bowflex people are looking for him, and that I want my CDs back.
He informs me that he tried to send my CDs back to me, but he accidentally put his address in the to: portion of the envelope. He'd try again in a few days.
I replied that you couldn't fit my CDs in an envelope, and I didn't understand why he would have to wait a few days. He had no job. He wasn't in school. Blah. I also asked him how his grandfather was, and how long he thought he'd be down there.
That pissed him off.
I got an angry e-mail back about how I treated him like he was stupid, and how he had decided to get back together with Poor Boy because Poor Boy always treated him right. He said he'd send me my CDs after I sent him his chinchilla.
If I could go back in time, I would have sent him Que Mal's corpse. I mean, really, had the chinchilla still been alive, how did he expect me to mail it to him? Also, I paid for the future fur coat, I even named it. I had only referred to it as his because it annoyed me, just like him.
We exchanged nasty e-mails for about a week before I blocked his eddress and tried to banish him from my memory. That was when his Dad called looking for him. We had a nice long chat. I told him that Seith had told me he had gone home. I'd even put him on a bus to Southern State. Seith's Dad informed me that Seith's Mom lived in Southern State, but he lived in An Even Southerner State. Seems he and Seith's Mom had gotten divorced a few months ago, and Seith hadn't taken it well.
I told him that Seith told me his dad had died when he was a kid, and that he lived with his mother and a stepfather who molested him. Seith's Dad was not amused. "Stepfather? Eleanor dumped me for a woman, not a man."
That little shit.
A month passed. Bowflex called me back looking for money. I reexplained that the person who ordered the Bowflex didn't live at this number anymore. "Is this insafemode?" "Yes." "You're listed as his credit reference. Should he default payment, it becomes your responsibility."
"I didn't authorize anyone to use me as a credit reference. I think you've made a mistake."
"Is your social security number xxx-xx-xxxx?"
That little piece of fucken shit. "Yes, but I did not agree to be a credit reference for anything. I didn't even know about it until you called to ask me about a change of address. Don't you need my signature or something to use me as a credit reference?"
"No. All we need is your social security number."
"That's bullshit. I didn't sign for anything. I didn't give anyone permission to use me as a reference." I hung up the phone and called Seith's Dad (God bless Caller ID), and began ranting about The Bowflex situation.
He called Bowflex and straightened it out. I made another effort to not let Seith be involved in my life in any manner. I invested myself in school, made some new friends, and began writing again. I tried not to write about Seith, but that was like trying not to inhale during a tour of a sewage treatment plant. You don't want to, but there's not much choice.
Big Gay Tom tried to fix me up with one of his friends, but I was crushing on a friend of my own.
After three months of celibacy, though, I caved. I called Big Gay Tom's Friend and invited him over to watch Good Will Hunting. We met at a nearby bar at around 7:00. He was pretty average looking, kind of shy, out but not proud. We had a few drinks, dinner, and then I gave him directions back to my place. "You live in Cranberry Lake Condos? I've been there before."
"Really? I thought I was the only one there under forty."
He turned rather red. "I've done some things I'm not proud of."
"Yea, me too."
We had a lot in common. Neither of us would ever be on the cover of GQ or Out magazine. We'd both gone through a bit of a whore phase at around the same time. We both knew Big Gay Tom, and we'd both had a huge crush on one of Tom's cute, straight friends.
We had another thing in common.
"Wait. How long have you lived here." he asked when I answered the door (he had stopped to pick up the video on the way).
"Ummm..about two years now."
"So --- you lived here last summer."
"Yea." I was staring at one of those Magic-Eye 3-D pictures. A shape was starting to form, but I couldn't yet make out what it was.
"Do you have a roommate?"
That little shit.
"I had a roommate."
"Yea. Let's pretend that we didn't have this conversation, though, ok?"