Dream a Little Dream of Me.

What Is The Difference Between This Post And Mine?

Joseph McCarthy, WordPress SpokesmanPsycho Women I Have Known.

A few years ago I was living in
Denver Colorado.. Friday nights were the big after work happy hours and my friends and I were always in attendance. I saw a very attractive petite woman who came in every Friday night and sat with her back to the crowd facing the bar. She had hair down to her waist and dressed very professionally. I told my friends I wanted to meet her and they laughed. She had been blowing off guys for 3 weeks.

I stood next to her while I ordered a drink. I noticed the wall behind the bottles was mirrored. She could see most of the bar even though her back was to it. Someone had bought her a bouquet of flowers, which lay in front of her.

“Wow, someone must really like you,” I said nonchalantly.

“You want ‘em?” She asked in a disgusted manner. “you could give them to one of your girlfriends.”

“I don’t have any girlfriends.”

“Sure! I see you in here all the time,” she said, again with a lot of venom.

“I’ve seen you here before too. You’re always alone and facing away from everyone. Why is that?” I asked.

“I don’t want to be bothered,” she said.

“This is a funny place to come to be alone. I did notice you can watch the entire bar from that mirror behind the bar,” I said.

“I have to go,” she got up to leave.

“Gee that’s too bad, we were just starting to have fun. My name is Dave, I hope we meet again sometime.”

With that she stomped out.

A couple weeks passed and I didn’t see her. The next time she came back, sat in the same place with her back to the crowd. My friends laughed and guffawed when I said I was going to try again. She was very pretty, way out of my league, but I had that backbone in a bottle working for me. I was also stoned and didn’t really care. My intention was to go screw with her because she had been such a bitch for no reason.

“Hi, how are the bottles doing?” I asked.

“Oh it’s you! I was hoping to see you tonight,” she said.

What the “f” was going on? She was hoping to see me? In hindsight I should have walked away right then but I was flattered. She handed me a flower.

“I bought this for you.”

“No way. Some guy bought it for you,” I said.

“No, I bought it for you when I saw you were here. I knew you would come to talk to me,” she said.

“That was very nice. Can I buy you a drink?” After that we made some small talk. Its vitally important to let the girl talk as much as possible. I did not say much at all about myself other than I was a sales manager at a large office equipment company.

“You know, they opened a new bar across town I was going to check out, do you want to come with me?” I asked. Always good to get in control and move them out of their comfort zone.

“I don’t even know you, but I think I can trust you. OK”, she said

As we walked past my friends they started hooting and hollering and making a scene.

“Your friends are assholes,” she said.

“Yeah sometimes, but they are really good guys,” I said.

“Did they tell you they all came up and hit on me and I turned them all down?”

“Yeah, come to think of it, I think they did. Why did you pick me?”

“Because you didn’t use some line. You were nice,” she said.

Make special note, I didn’t use a line. That was probably because I was stoned but canned unoriginal lines DON”T WORK unless the woman wants to get picked up. Well, except the palm reading gig.

On the way to the bar, I put on some real corny soft music. I think it was Linda Rondstadt and the Nelson Riddle Orchestra.

“What’s this?” she said almost with disgust.

“Its some music from the 30’s and 40’s that Linda Ronstadt did. I like it because it makes me feel like I am floating,“ I laughed. She was on guard against getting seduced.. I could have changed it to something harder like Van Halen or AC/DC but just left it. It was my car.

We talked and got to know each other. I was a perfect gentleman and when she wanted to go back at 11pm I didn’t complain. I figured I could still hit another bar. I asked her out for dinner the next night and she agreed. I don’t even think I got a kiss good night. She shook my hand. I figured the next date would be a total bomb but what the hell. If she wanted to go home again at 11pm I would be rid of her and still had time to hit another bar.

The next night I took her to a very quiet, romantic place for dinner. It wasn’t expensive but a place out of the way. Again I try to be a little different. At the end of the night we ended up in bed.

She had a very tight muscular body and I have always been about 20 lbs overweight. She had a lot of scars all over her body. Now here is where it started getting weird.

She said she was an undercover cop. Great! I smoke dope and try to stay as far away from cops as possible. She said she and her partner had gone deep undercover and had lived with a biker gang for over a year to break up a meth amphetamine ring. When the bust went down, the Feds didn’t tell the local cops and it turned to total chaos. She ended up getting all cut up and her partner had been shot and died.

Wow! How wild. Just like on TV. I pretty much decided right then I was not going to be seeing her again. I just don’t like cops. The next morning she wanted to go to breakfast and took me (she paid) to a nice place. I tried to leave around noon. She wanted to spend the day with me. OK, what the heck. I was already there.

She said she was now working on a white slavery ring. Some guys would come into
Denver and pick up run aways on the streets and take them to
New York and turn them into prostitutes. Pretty far out but it sounded believable at the time. Somebody does that stuff right?

I had just been promoted at work and needed to go in to the office to plan my week. Sunday nights were work night for me. I tried to leave. She started freaking out. She didn’t want me to go. I told her I had to.

“Do you think you can just fuck me and leave?”

Sharon, we have been together for 24 hours. I really have to go.” I really did too. She bitched and moaned but finally about 8pm I was able to get free. Now I knew I didn’t want to see her again.

She called several times over the next couple weeks but I was always too busy. I stayed away from the bar where I had met her. My friends said she had been there and was asking about me. Finally she just gave up.

A few months later I was on a date with a new “prospect”. We were sitting at a table when
Sharon saw me. She came up and stood in front of the table glaring at me.

Sharon, how are you?”

“Is this your girlfriend?”

“No, just a friend. We are having a drink,” I said.

She just stood in front of the table seething. I was a little worried she might have a gun and shoot me. Finally I took her aside and told her I would call her during the week. My date and I left as soon as I could.

“Who was that psycho bitch?” she asked.

“Somebody I knew a few months ago. I haven’t seen her in months.”

“She must really have liked you,” she said.

“I only went out with her once. I did spend the night with her, but she was too crazy for me.”

Weird thing happened, I ended up spending the night with that one too.

That Friday night I went out with my buds as I usually do. I was home asleep at 3am when the phone rang.

“Hi honey what are you doing?”

“Who’s this?” I asked totally groggy.

“I’m with that guy I told you about. He wants to have a party,” she said.

Sharon? Look, I’m asleep, can I call you back in the morning?”

Then she changed her voice. “Look, I’m on the job. When I couldn’t find you, I decided to go the a bar where the white slavery guy goes. He was there. I can’t get hold of my partner and I need back up.”

“What?” I said.

“Hi honey, my girlfriend wants to meet you. What’s the address here?” she said to a man in the room with her. He repeated the address.

“Did you get that honey? You’ll like him, he’s very handsome,” she said to me. I could hear him moving around in the background.

“See if she can bring some coke,” he said to

“She said she doesn’t have any. Do you know where we can get some?”
Sharon said to him.

“Here call this number,” he said and I could hear him leave the room.

“Did you hear all that? I need you to call the
Boulder police department and tell them Satin needs backup.” She hung up.

Now I mentioned before I don’t like cops. I don’t want anything to do with them. But this girl sounded like she was in trouble and I would feel terrible if anything happened. I called 911.

“This is 911, what is the nature of your emergency?”

“I have an officer who needs back up…” I was immediately switched to the
Denver police department. I explained the situation.

“What is your name, address and telephone number?” This was before the days of Caller ID.

“Do I have to give you that?”

“We can’t take the report without it.” I reluctantly gave them the number. I also gave them the phone number of the drug dealer the guy had talked about as well as the address where they were staying.

“What is the officer’s name?”

“Her name is
Sharon. I don’t know her last name,” I said.

“Why don’t you know her last name?”

“I just met her. She told me to get a message to the chief of the
Boulder police department and tell them Satin needs backup,”

“Satin? I thought you said her name was
Sharon,” the operator said.

“Yes, her name is
Sharon. I don’t know anything about this. She said Satin is her code name. She asked me to get the message to the police chief.”
”Ok sir, we’ll look into it.”

I laid back in bed staring at the ceiling. Was I being duped? Was she really in trouble? The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got. The phone rang.

“Did you make a 911 call to the police department?”

“Yes, I did,” I said.

“Well we called that number you gave us. Those people were asleep. The Boulder Police department has never heard of Satin…” Suddenly my call waiting beeped.

“Wait a minute, maybe that’s her,” I switched to the other number.

“Hi honey, its me? Are you coming over?”
Sharon said.

“I called the police and they have never heard of you,” I said. I could hear a man’s voice in the background.

“Who the hell are you talking to now?” he demanded.

“I’m calling my friend to set up two girls for you. That’s what you wanted,”
Sharon told him.

“This is bull shit, who the hell are you talking to?” he said.

“No, stop! Don’t do that. Get away…’ The line went dead.

I told the cops what had happened. They said they would look into it. I hung up and layed in bed looking at the ceiling. The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I became. That psycho bitch had just set me up. There was no telling what she would do next. I couldn’t get back to sleep. I started to worry she would show up at my house with the guy she was with. Finally I went to the Howard Johnsons and got a room for the night.

I know this story sounds like total BS but I swear every word is true. The story is too bizarre to make up.

I saw
Sharon about a year later. She said her partner had shown up a few minutes after she got cut off. They had busted the guy and taken him to jail. She said she got beat up pretty bad and had a broken arm. She thanked me for making the call.

I never saw the psycho bitch again.


Answer: Mine has a priest. His has violence and illicit drug use.

Well, that and mine is much better written.

Yet his story is still included in the category pages, while mine is not.

Filed under: About, Censorship, Equality, Erotica, Fundies, Literature, Literature and Literotica, Rants, Religion, Sex, UDoJ's Other Sites, WordPress

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