T**y #6

So you all think I am an idiot… I don’t know what I am thinking, I agree with you all, I am never going to get my stuff back! FUCK! Including my beautiful living maiden hair fern which is doing so well (I hear they’re the hardest plants to keep alive). After we pick up all my things – mainly from my bathroom, we spend hours restyling his house… He tells me that he’s now going to get a good price for the house & he’s going to give me $1000 for helping… Remember this poll I did on Facebook? If someone offered you money would you take it? I don’t think I ever could…  Keep reading this story to find out if I get it or not…

As I am putting things in different places, he says that it looks heaps better… Ironically I find out later by stalking the listing online of his house, that the stylist wasn’t on crack like I thought she was. In the photos the professionals took for the listing, the furniture was actually originally where I put it. But the photos were done a week before! The fucking idiot T**y had moved everything the stylist did & made it look ridiculous!! When I shifted everything back I felt like the best ever stylist but in actual fact he was the dickhead who moved everything after she styled it! OMG. What a waste of time, when he should have been cleaning or putting up the shelves or leaving it alone, he was too busy moving the stylists furniture around, no wonder he’s so far behind. What a wanker. However remember I don’t know this till about a week later.

When we get back to his house he parks my car in his driveway & we unload, putting my touches everywhere, the stylist had used white towels & white accessories in a white bathroom so my green towels & bamboo accents ones gave it a pop of colour that it needed. At least I was better than the stylist with that aspect.

Once the house is clean to my satisfaction & all the styling in put back to where it came from, I sit down with some more vodka & wait for him to come make a move, but he is fiddle farting around still moving things around, I lay down on the couch & start looking at my phone wishing I didn’t have my car here so I could catch a taxi home… Bored & horny, I slip off a layer of clothing & click to porn hub on my phone… When he hears some noises, he comes out & asks what I’m watching, I tell him porn & he says that he’s going to have a shower first… What the actual fuck?!

He is in the shower for what seems like days, I have already made myself cum twice by the time he’s gotten out of the shower… This guy is clueless… He asks me if I’m still watching & I tell him yes, we have sex on the couch – which isn’t his, but the stylists. Afterwards we sit there for a short time, he goes outside for a smoke & we have another drink. Then he walks up to the bedrooms & disappears for what seems like forever.

He’s of course has said earlier that I can stay over or I wouldn’t be here feeling like a fuckwit right now, I would have gone home, but he said I should stay so I have drunk too much to drive, but now he’s being weird… I sit around wondering what the fuck he is doing, where he is when I find him in one of the rooms doing something to some knobs on the walk in robe. I end up laying on the bed & he lays next to me. The beds are all fake so there is nowhere really to sleep & there is nothing to keep warm with, lucky it’s warm in January but the sleep I do get is broken & it’s about 3:00 am…

At 6:00 am he starts fiddle farting around again & asks where my keys are, I ask where he’s going because I don’t want him driving my car or leaving me here & he just says that he wants to move my car in case his girlfriend drives past after her shift at 7:00 am. When he comes back inside he also moves all my stuff that we didn’t use & the laundry basket we brought it all over in, including the clothes that are laying around into the room I am in, just in case she comes inside the house… Hang on – what the fuck!? Is she coming!? He says he doesn’t know but thinks she might drive past. Ok what the actual fuck. I am naked on the fake bed in the front room, what the fuck was he going to do, lock me in the master suite & hope she doesn’t come in here & find me!? This is next level fucked & I’ve been in some shitty situations before!!

I get dressed in record time & gather my stuff that isn’t on display & get out of there… It’s 6:00 am & I haven’t done the walk of shame in a very long time. I feel horrible & dirty. This is guy is wide awake at 6:00 am, bouncing off the walls. He’s off his head. I am not sure but he has to be on drugs – I’m not completely against drugs but I’m not really a fan of just taking them for the hell of it… I drive home & jump into bed, finally getting a couple of hours of rest.

So you’re all right… Well in a way! When am I going to get my stuff back? I don’t hear from him all weekend, with the house openings. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Fucking prick. I refuse to message. But on Tuesday I ask how the open inspection went, thinking only about getting my things back at this point, trying to play nice, he says that it sold for $405k & when I joke that it must’ve been my styling he says yes & asks if he can keep my stuff for another week as they have another open… Why wouldn’t they just cancel the open if it sold?! I don’t understand this, but I say ok & keep in touch with him the only way I know how without having to start the conversation. I ignore the last message at night & reply in the morning – just continuing the conversation as if it never ended. I don’t say good nights or good mornings, I just keep the conversation going with a 8 hour sleep gap! Hahaha…

So one day he messages before the second inspection & says that he’ll drop off all my stuff but in true T**y form, he says a time & then doesn’t rock up then bails saying he can’t tonight. At least he knows that he has to give my stuff back.   

When he finally brings back my stuff, including the maiden hair fern (which now struggles to survive), he brings back my towels wet saying he’s had a shower… Why is he needing to shower?! It’s the first time I think that he’s fucking more than me… But I am almost certain of it, why else would he have to have a shower before he comes over or that time he got here & had to have a shower… I mean the man does scrape his face with a spoon to get rid of the dead skin so perhaps he just likes to be clean, but I think it’s weird bringing back my towels that were supposed to be his decorations but he brings them back wet….

That night though, we chat like friends. I am either so deprived of male company or even any company that I actually really enjoy sitting & chatting with him. We have a beer or two but we don’t have sex, but I am happy to just hang out with him, outside in the heat by the stars.

Oddly like some switch, I wake up the next morning & realise that he’s forgotten a blanket of mine. I text him immediately, I mean it’s not a big deal to be honest if I don’t get back one blanket, I got everything else back including some of the stylists stuff, which I gave back to him to take to the house. He says that he’ll drop it off, which we again have this stupid thing where he says he’s going to come but he takes hours to get there. Every time I see him, I watch carefully, he looks cooked. He’s off his head on drugs, I’m sure of it. He comes over this night with someone in the car so he doesn’t stay long, however we do have a long conversation & I joke with him that he owes me $2k, not $1k. He agrees & says something about $5k since he got such a good price. There is no way I will take any money from this man. I know I did the poll & I talked to my best work friend at length about it, she was like take it for sure. I just don’t think I could. I’m a strong independent woman, I didn’t help him because I wanted his cash, I helped him because I stupidly felt sorry for him. Why do I feel sorry for these losers?!

#IBD4U