is it really that unfair of a comparison? lovers get bashed because they do something others disapprove of, and bronies get hate form people like you because they like a show, and there's all sort of stigmatization and controversy surrounding it.
So, she still occasionally texts me highly suggestive things and constantly asks "Where you at?" which is followed by "My husband's asleep"
Red Flag #1!
As far as anyone knows, my only relation to her is I supply her with weed every week or so, which she intentionally gives me money for the next bag in advance to ensure she will see me again (which is kinda flattering that she wants to see me again, not gonna lie)
Now here's where things get worse: I know the wife because her neighbor is my co-worker & close friend Melanie [real name witheld], so there's times where we have social gatherings at her house and have beers with the neighbors, including Vicki [codename, the wife] and Matt [codename, the husband] with all of us sitting around, kickin' back brews with other occasional neighbors and friends. We're all in the same place together, sitting at the same table.
"Vicki" heavily flirts and pays far too much attention to me right in front of her husband Matt, and he is picking up on this. I'm on this fucker's radar. So, I play it cool and don't give into her blatant flirting antics, keeping it respectful to Matt (who's actually a p cool guy from NJ like me). Then she be doin' shit like, he'll get up for a beer and in that split moment she'll wink at me while provocatively running her hand down my shoulder/arm. My general feelings at this point are the epitome of conflicted.
There's Red Flag #2!
SO with that in mind, last night around midnight I get a text from her, "You around?" (which is the 42-year-old housewife way of saying "U up?") and while I look at this text, I'm making this dishonorable pursed smile while nodding downward and audibly say "My god, what am I doing?" So like the retrad I am, I said "Yup, want me to come by?" "Yes," she replies. So I park a neighborhood over and tell her "I'm close, but parked slightly far away" and she says "You're a trooper. Come to my garage."
I did just that. Stealthed through the cul de sac and into her her driveway where she is waiting for me with beers and a glass of wine. We sit and talk for a while, rapping about inane bullshit about past events and blahblahblah i cant stop staring at her tits, but anyway, at one point she goes "I wanna smoke some weed. Wanna come inside my living room and smoke some weed?" and I was like "Uhh, is that really a good idea to go in there?" "Yeah, we'll be fine, just be silent like I'm the only one walking in the house. My husband is upstairs sleeping."
Jesus jumped up Christ on a skateboard with a mullet, what the actual fuck am I doing right now
So we do just that. She puts on National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, which is indeed a fine selection, and we begin smoking a bowl of pot. She's talking and yammering away (somewhat loudly) as we're sitting one seat away from each other. Things are going okay, everything is innocent (no kissing/touching, etc) but I'm feeling uncomfortable as a motherbilly-goater. Not even 15 minutes into the movie, we hear footsteps from upstairs. Yep, you guessed it: the effing husband is out of bed and approaching the stairs to come down into the living room. In the few seconds of hearing him approach closer and closer, I said "Should I go?? I can flee right now." and she went "I don't know, what are you gonna do? You gonna stay right here and be chill? Are you man enough to handle this right now?" So, you can just imagine the sheer terror coursing through my veins at this point.
Then, he husband starts coming down the stairs.
He is oddly calm, looks at us and says "What are you doing?" and Vicki said "I invited him over, he's my friend. We're hanging out." to which his response is "I think it's time for you to go to bed, you have work in the morning." and at this point I immediately look at my phone and follow up with "Y'know what? You're right, it's late. I'm going to leave right now." and I said goodnight to both of them, and the husband was actually saintlike patient and said "Goodnight, man." But she then said "Well, can I walk him out?" and he goes "He doesn't need to be walked out." where I once again immediately responded, "That's alright, I can go myself." and I left.
Words cannot describe the simultaneous shame and relief I felt on that drive home. There was a whole lotta thanking of the gods inbetween bouts of slight panic from everything that had just transpired. I am so very, very lucky that this all didn't go any other way. It was a life lesson and I hope one day if any of you are caught in this situation, just remember what happened to me. I was very fortunate with my outcome... someone else may not be so lucky.
Thnks for reading my novel, its being published next spring out of my butt
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