I met this girl while I was bartending a party one night. Her third sentence to me was “Are we going to your place?” Now, to most guys this sounds like they just hit the jackpot, but to me, for some reason, I saw a huge red flag. Did I heed this red flag? No!
This girl had what seemed to be an accent. It's not an accent you have ever heard before. This girl had made up her own accent. She would roll her R's in every word. It's not even Latino-sounding. She would even add rolled R's to words that had no R's. Sounds impossible, right? I thought so too but not for her! I guess that's what people from L.A. do with their spare time. They make up accents.
We started to talk on the phone. The second time we hung out, she gave me a
LesPaul guitar. Second red flag. Ladies, if you ever want to blind a guy from reality, give him a guitar. It will blur and distort every bit of his rational thinking. Gentlemen, if a girl starts giving you $1,200 gifts the second time you hang out, you should start asking questions! Did I ask those questions? Absolutely not!
One day she decided to visit me while I was bartending. It was during a private party of pure frat boys who wanted nothing more than to talk to her. I didn't care so much until I found out they were giving her shots. Next thing I know, she was sitting on the bar stool with her head on the bar. That wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that vomit was gliding down the bar from under her face. Third red flag. I raced her over to the bathroom. At this point I had a choice between taking her home – I could get fired for leaving the bar unattended – or leaving her in the bathroom when I knew she was in stomach-pump land. Mind you, it was only 11 p.m. and my shift didn't end until three! What did I do? I risked my job and made a door guy cover the bar while I snuck her out the back and into my car. Have you ever done 100 m.p.h. down Ashland at 11 p.m.? I have. And because she did not live in Chicago, I had to have a roommate make sure she was okay till I got back. Long story short, I made it back to work without anyone finding out I was gone.
One night, I was going to bed around 12 p.m. because I had work at 6:45 in the morning. I got a call from her that went something like this:
Her: “Marrrrrshall, I'm drunk and I'm with my frrrriend. Can you come pick us uprrr?”
Me: “No, I have to get up.”
Her: “PPPrLrLrLease Marrrshall, just come get us, we have no idea where we are.”
Me: “NO! I can't”
Her: “Please! Were right by your house!” (Note her last sentence)
Me: “No! You are smart enough to find a cab and get home. I have work in the morning.”
Her: “Please!”
Me: “No!”
Her: “Please!”
Me: “No!”
Her: “Please!”
|
Me: “No!”
Eight more times.
I hung up.
I lie down and not two minutes later, I heard giggles coming from outside my window. I peeked outside and, lo and behold, it's her and her friend. She rang my buzzer and I didn't answer. I can see her friend laughing hysterically from my windows but there is no sign of her. I keep looking out and I can't see what her friend is laughing at. Pretty soon I look down on the floor of my second floor balcony and soon realized she just climbed a two-story wall and reached my porch. I also realized I left my door open a crack. I wedged my foot at the bottom of the door with my hand bracing the top. As she is knocking on the window, she also tries to open the door. This went on for four minutes before I realized she could see me holding the door through the blinds. As I open the door she barges in and says “Hi Marrrrrshall” with a tone of voice like we just met up for coffee. She runs in and sits on my bed. I tell her to leave and she, as though she didn't hear the anger in my voice, asks, “Are you mad at me?” Fourth red flag.
Any girl that's going to scale a second story wall to get to you, had better be damn sure that you want her in your room. In my case, yeah, I was mad. It took me four red flags to put an end to it, though I bet it would take a lot of guys seven or eight. It's no easy task to kick a girl out of your apartment, who has just overcome a two-story obstacle to get in your bed. But after four flags, it's fucking time to take a stand.
She's out there lurking, and you know what to look for. Let's review:
- “Are we going to your house?”
- $1200 guitar gift on second date
- Vomit on bar
- Spider-like wall-scaling abilities
- ex-stripper ( Oh, I forgot to mention that one, didn't I ?! )
At first, any one of these tasks performed by a girl with a made-up accent may not seem alarming. Add them all together, and you are dangerously close to adding one more fucked-up relationship to your growing list of them.