Have you ever, part deux...

Have you ever...

...become very, very close friends with a person you used to have a mad crush on...

...despite that fact that he seems to desperately want you sexually....

...but you become rather adept at ignoring that tension, and the two of you are super close...

...so close that one of his favorite past times is sending pictures to your phone of his tiny white kitten, despite potential questions to his manhood, because he trusts you to not make fun of him to his face...

...and had that friend, whom we shall refer to as Muscles, send you one particularly cute picture of himself with said fluffy white kitten which you notice, who knows why, that he has copied a second phone number on.....

...so that night, at 2:30AM, your phone starts ringing...and ringing...and ringing...

...and you finally jerk awake, drowsily croak out a "Hello?", and you hear a very bitchy, angry, drunk female saying, "WHO IS THIS?!"...

...to which you ever so brilliantly answer, "Huh?"...

...to which the bitchy, angry, drunk female replies, "WHO. IS. THIS?!??!"...

...to which you reply, "Excuse me????"...

...to which the bitchy, angry, drunk female replies, "WHO. THE HELL. IS THIS!!!!!!!"...

...so you hang the heck up...

...and lay there stunned...

...and curious...

...and you think to yourself, "Damn. What a psycho-hose-beast."...

...and the light-bulb goes on...

...OMG....Psycho. Hose. Beast....

...and you know EXACTLY who the culprit is...

...so you fire off a somewhat freaked out text to Muscles at 3:00AM, and include the phone number of the psycho-hose-beast for proof...

...and when he calls, confused as hell the next day, you have to practically hold his hand to explain how his psycho-hose-beast got the number in the first place...

...and you bite your tongue when he says "Wow. I didn't realize she was that smart."...

...then, that night, you go to this year's version of that rather infamous staff party that you got smashed at two years ago....

...and first groped Muscles' muscles...

...you walk in, and feel his eyes on you...

....and you can tell he is following you at a somewhat discreet distance....

....so you wait for him to get up his nerve....

....and it only takes him about 30 minutes and five beers....

Him: "I called her and bitched her out. She's really sorry, and claims it was her girlfriend who called you."

Me: "Right."

Him: "Well, she said if it had been her, she would have masked her number."

Me: "Great, THAT makes me feel SO much better."

Him: "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I made her cry."

Me: "Huh?"

Him: "I told her you were an old lady with mental problems on heart mediction, and that the middle-of-the-night phone call terrorized you in to a major anxiety attack."

..........?

...so you shriek, and stomp on his toesies...

...and you realize you enjoyed it very much, so you stomp on his toesies a second time...

...and then you realize that all of his friends are standing there, witnessing your tantrum....

...and then it dawns on you that they all know exactly how Muscles described you to the psycho-hose-beast, so you try to stomp on his toesies again...

...but he jumps...

...and you stare in wonder as he expresses extreme surprise and confusion over you having a temper tantrum for being called an old, mentally unstable, anxiety-attack prone lady with a bum ticker....

Him: "But...but....but.....I thought you would be HAPPY that I made her so sorry!!!!"

Me: *groowwwwwwwwl*

...so you spend the rest of the night, visualizing his torture....naked, cuffed spreadeagle...clover nipple clamps firmly in place...perhaps some strategically plastic clothespins 'cause they hurt more than the wood ones....lots of slapping...flogging....crop action...orgasm denial.....then you pour hot wax all over his naughty bits until he screams like the pretty pretty girl you know he is...

Excuse me, while I take a moment here to visualize again.....

Ahhhhh......that's better......I heart my happy place.

...so the party ends, and you go home, and whine to your husband about being referred to as an old lady with mental problems...

...and he replies...

"Well, at least you aren't old..."