So, I haven’t mentioned Susan yet. I suppose I should, since we’re going out and all.
Susan’s twenty-two and a MontyPython freak. Also, she’s a MelGibson freak. Though it should be mentioned that, as of 1988, the only thing Gibson had ever said about Jehovah was ‘Hate’im back; it works for me.’ Also, she wore out the VHS copy of Lethal Weapon rewinding the part where Riggs wakes up and walks across the trailer over and over and over. So she’s maybe…sorta…slightly, you know, obsessive. Being a crazychick. As per the rules.
Guess who I’ve been going out with since 1987.
So, here’s the real problem. And I’m not joking, or exaggerating. And I’m sure as hell not bragging.
She’s subservient.
I don’t know where she got this stupid idea. But she figured out, about a week after we’d got together, that chicks in Japan were slaves to the guys. Naturally, she found that appealing. Though I think she missed the point. At least, I hope she missed the point. Or else it’s a miracle that Japan lasted long enough to sell me a PSP.
Okay. Everyone in GenerationX has had this conversation:
‘Whatcha wanna do?’
‘Whatever you want to do.’
Got that? Sound familiar? Okay. Here’s where this begins to differ.
‘I could set you on fire then kill your parents in front of you. That sound good?’
‘Yes, Master.’
She’d elected, with malice aforethought, to Stop Thinking. And she couldn’t say yes without appending master to it. Because: Japan.
Man, I hope she was wrong about that country.
She wasn’t Japanese. She didn’t speak Japanese. Her television was a fucking Zenith; that’s how Japanese she wasn’t. But: she heard that chicks over there were all morons, and wanted to be one too.
I’m pretty sure she’s the one who actually turned me into the antichrist; also, she was the only one who never figured that out.
See, there are a couple things I don’t do. I could do them; but I don’t do them. I don’t ask chicks out; I don’t cheat on chicks; I don’t leave chicks. No idea why; it’s just this habit I got into. I don’t jump into active volcanoes for the same basic lack of explainable reasons.
Don’t get me wrong. If I’m single, I’ll help chicks cheat on other guys. I do that a lot. But, more on that later.
So, Susan and I have been together since about the time Lethal Weapon was released, and about a week before she learned that Japan was a nation of imbeciles. Roughly a year and a half. Because I don’t leave chicks, and you can’t really bug a groupie of this magnitude into going the hell away. Trust me on that: I tested it all to hell.
I could go into detail on all that, but…for some things, there’s no statute of limitations. Even in Japan. Probably. Just…when I say I’m evil, it’s not just a cool word; I went pro with it.
Hannibal Lecter EMailed me telling me to throttle back a bit. We’re talking Evil.
I’m kidding. He actually wrote a letter in calligraphy. Duh.
So, by one in the morning, I’m over at Susan’s house, setting her on fire and killing her parents. Okay, so I’m really just playing this variation on Truth or Dare wherein I dare her to do things over and over, and it’s always my turn. Which, in fact, might be even more evil than the other thing; you can really only do that once.
She of course just keeps YesMastering at me and doing it, because she’s Renounced Thought. I dunno. She was nuts.
Funny incidental anecdote. I once told her to steal me a squadcar. She came back with this excuse: ‘They wouldn’t let me, Master.’ In fairness, it was about the only time she failed me. Still: shoulda set her on fire….
So. Most guys would naturally assume that having a reasonably attractive chick who’d do anything they asked, up to and including being set on fire and at least trying to steal a squadcar, would be awesome beyond comprehension. And they’d be right: I still can’t comprehend it. To me, it just seemed Really Fucking Annoying.
I tried this once.
‘Stop being subservient.’
‘Yes, Mast—what?’
So, that didn’t really work.