Monday, February 14, 2011

Dump Truck

I had a rather odd house guest come by last weekend. One of my female roommates, we'll call her Schilling, and I decided to have friends over for her 30th birthday.  So, a few guests arrive, and then at one point she lets in a portly Black fellow who she assumed was on of my guests. He gave her a hug that was a little too tender and long, wished her a happy birthday, walked in with his bottle of tequila, and made himself at home. A good hour elapsed before she heard him introduce himself as Dump Truck, and her heart sunk at the realization that she in fact knew this man as an idiot she met at a bar a while back who Facebook stalked her and her friend. As it turns out, Schilling was wise enough to decline the "friendship," but her friend failed to have a working stalker gage, and friended "The Truck." Because he had access to her page, he was able to see the event for our gathering and just fricking showed up!! Who does that?! The Dump Truck; that's who.

His actual name was not Dump Truck, but it was something very similar, and he claims that that is his DJ name and he hosts the midnight shift on a local radio station.

Anyway, for another uncomfortable half hour or so, she was unable to get me alone to tell me that there was a big stalker weirdo in our living room watching the fights with us, and chiming in with surprisingly insightful comments for a guy who was undoubtedly a social pariah and perhaps a menace to society. Finally, she was able to catch me when I got up to go to the kitchen for a beer, and I must say that I was shocked at this news. Shocked, yes, but mostly I just thought it was the funniest thing I'd ever heard. Instead of doing what a solid roommate and friend would do, kicking the nut out of the house before she got brutally raped and murdered, I first thought I should pull at least three of my friends into the kitchen one-by-one to tell them about the Dump Truck situation. Naturally, they all found it as hilarious as I did; Not surprisingly, I have sick friends.

I may not have thought it was so funny at the time had I known that he was creeping out the guests with scary pervert comments:

Creepy comment number one: Grabbing Schilling's arm and looking her dead in the face, he said to her, "Did you get your birthday spanking?"

Creepy comment number two: He said to the gal who played the female lead in the play I wrote, someone I hadn't seen in at least a year, and I may never see again now that she thinks I let nuts like this into my home, "Do you like this violence? Does it make you moist."


Instead of simply asking this wacko to get the hell out of my house, I thought it better to just see if I could get everyone out to the bars because I hate conflict and thought he might stab me if I offended him. I made repeated attempts to get people motivated for the bar scene, but it was tough because only half the people in the room knew that this cat was not a friend of anyone and was here for the sole purpose of stalking the shit out of my roommate. Just when I was ready to burst with frustration, I saw him grab his tequila bottle and head out the door. It turns out Schilling strapped on the pair that I should have and just told the guy that she was uncomfortable and it would be good if he left, and he did, with his tail between his legs, feeling shocked and jilted. This was great news for us because now we could all talk about him and have a laugh at his expense!

And laugh we did, all through the night at the karaoke bar, and I wore the ugly powder blue sport coat that I got from a barfly woman for buying her an MGD. Surprisingly, the hideous coat was money. Everyone was coming up to talk to me all night, and I got a number from a girl after she spanked me at Galaga and met her out the following Thursday for a drink.

Thank you Dump Truck for giving me this story to tell, and please now that you know where we live, don't hide in the bushes and try to rape my roommate. Or me.

Also thanks to the powder blue Mr. Furley sport coat for reminding me that you don't have to dress like everyone else if you do it with some confidence and style, just like Mr. Furley and just like Dump Truck.


b.burjan said...

that blue coat is pretty tight. also, it'd be great to get dumptruck's radio staion and time slot he's on in for a request or something.

Andrew said...

I love this story, though I'm kind of pissed you didn't tell me about it sooner.

Sounds like something that would happen to me...

Gorilla Bananas said...

Actually, the birthday spanking remark was pretty good. I might use it myself. The was a Hawaiian Sumo wrestler whose nickname was "The Dump Truck". I wonder if your dude was named after him.

BeckEye said...

Sounds like an awesome party. Wish I could have been there, partly to see your sweet coat, but mostly because televised violence does indeed make me moist.

JerseySjov said...

that's CRAZY! that's happened to me/my friends a few times, but i feel like the rules for just showing up places change drastically when everyone involved is NOT a college student

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Burjan: Wait, we should call up his show on the next podcast and call him out! Wait, that will get us murdered . . .

Andrew: I would have told you on IM, but I don't think I could have done it as much justice as this post. I think this is back to my hey-day.

Gorilla: A Hawaiian Sumo wrestler? Why do you have such a vast knowledge of all things weird and awesome?

Beck: But you CAN see the coat. Don't you see the pic? That's me/Dennis Leary.

Jov: Yes. I would agree. Party crashing in college is normal, but it gets you arrested in the real world. What a nut. You know, the worst thing about this story is that he took the tequila back. Party foul! Throw the flag!!!