Pee Loser: Part 3 (visit to a penthouse)

6 Jan

Welcome to the 3rd & final installment of the Pee Loser (PL) mini series! 🙂

So after PL was done spitting out of the passenger window he did something that was both rude & a blessing. 

He fell asleep! Hallelujah!

Here I am playing chauffeur to a drunk guy with a 2 yr old mentality & he falls asleep…the silence certainly was golden though.

Exiting off of I-95’s Hallandale Beach exit I woke him up with a punch to the arm.

“What?!”

“Do you wanna tell me where you live?”

“Yeah. In Hallandale.”

“We’re in Hallandale, dumba**.”

“Oh. Can we pull over so I can pee?” He moaned in that slurring, annoying-as-ever, voice. At that moment I’d choose the scraping of nails on a chalkboard over PL.

“No!”

Finally, we made it. As Heather & I scoped out the very nice expensive cars in the underground garage we noticed that Pee Loser was wandering aimlessly.

If you’ve met Heather you’ll know she’s not afraid to voice her opinion. And that’s what I love most about her. She asked him if he knew where he was going. Fair enough.

“Yeah. Yeah. Of course I know. It’s this way.” He made a zig zag path towards the elevator.

We all get in. And there we stood. No movement.

“Dont you need a key or something to get to the penthouse?” I asked.

“Oh. Yeah. My friend has it.”

“Awesome.” Me & my sarcasm.

The elevator doors conveniently opened to reveal the friend. He was surprisingly a normal, intelligent guy.

We got to the door of the penthouse. Al…most…there!

I was surprised to find, instead of a beautiful place, a bare home. There was barely any furniture save for the chair with the blowup doll. 😐  Naturally, a blow up doll is a ‘must-have’ piece.

We made our way over to the kitchen for drinks. 

PL: “I want some breakfast. You guys want breakfast?”

None of us concurred.

“Who wants to make breakfast?” He looked at Heather, her friend, and then me.

“We’re not making your ass breakfast.”

“I’m huuungry.” Oh good – another thing for him to cry about. “Hey Con.”

I didn’t answer. Only a select few people are allowed to call me Con. Everyone else sticks with ‘Connie.’

“Con.”

“What?”

“Do you wanna see my room?”

“Her name is Connie. Not Con.” Heather persisted.

He asked again.

I sighed. “Alright. Show me the room.”

We walked through the large empty living room to his bedroom.

I really need to learn how to reign in my high expectations because I’m almost always let down.

What did I expect? A bedroom.

What did I see? A closet.

“This is your room?” I laughed.

“Yeah. What’s wrong with it?”

No lie – it was a walk in closet with an air mattress on the floor.

“What is wrong with it? This is a closet. Not a bedroom. I am not going in there.”

The friend took us gals onto the balcony which was so amazing. It was dark & the sky blended with the ocean. I felt like I was staring into forever. Infinity. It was beautiful.

The sliding doors were left open to let the warm breeze in.

Right after we made ourselves comfortable we were treated to special background music: Pee Loser vomiting violently in the bathroom. He was gracious enough to leave the bathroom door open so we could follow hurl by hurl.

None of us cared really so we just closed the sliding door and continued our conversation.

Once PL realized he wasnt getting any attention with his theatrical dry heaving he rejoined us. “Ugggh man I feel a million times better now.”

He sits on a stool next to me which was higher than my seat and rests his nasty fungus infested foot on the arm of my chair. EW! I almost squealed like a girl.

I already knew I’d never see him after that night so I merely scooted as far left as possible in that chair to avoid contracting whatever disease he had.

I’m pretty sure Heather said “gross” or something along that line when he put his foot on my chair.

To make matters worse he called me Colleen. I just covered my face and laughed.

“What?” He asked, all defensive.

“Oh my God. My name isn’t Colleen.”

“Her name is f*in Connie. Not Con. Not Colleen. It’s Connie.” Heather said. (Love her.)

When he noticed I was cracking up he tapped me on the arm with his dirty foot. Gah! I needed soap! Sanitizer! A shower! Anything! Exfoliating scrub! Stat!

Heather: “Ew that’s so gross.”

PL: “What?”

Heather: “You put your nasty foot on Connie.”

PL: “Oh come on, you know you want my foot on you.”

Heather: “You put your foot on me and I’m throwing your a** over the balcony.”

That shut him up pretty quickly.

The moral of the story is …

Well, there isn’t one.

Or, I guess there is. Be careful who you go home with because sometimes you just cannot trust your expectations. Oh – and bring an outspoken friend. They make everything so much more fun! (Ty Heather <3)   =)

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2 Responses to “Pee Loser: Part 3 (visit to a penthouse)”

  1. The Hook January 10, 2012 at 11:04 am #

    He sounds delightful!

    • ConnieMaria January 10, 2012 at 7:18 pm #

      Oh yes – he was a winner 😉 lol

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