I realize I am really just procrastinating because I don’t want to drive back into the city. If I leave now, I’ll hit traffic, so I’m staying a little longer and finishing this post. But I do have to go back because I have stayed at the beach house so long I am out of insulin. Fuck it! Next time I’m bringing a month’s worth.
I’ve been going round and round about this “friend” I met back east in 2016. This guy is from the same city, same basic part of town I am from. He reminds me a ton of my Dad. He loves the same food, the same restaurants, the same food, the same restaurants… get the drift. Both my father and this “friend” are food addicts. I get that. When we were back east, he and I, I’ll call him Rick, had some fun together. We went on a couple road trips together in North Carolina. He’s kind of like a younger brother. A younger brother who reminds me a lot of my Dad. Not sure if I have mentioned this before, but my Dad can be an asshole. And I already have five younger brothers, yeah, so not in the market for more sibs. If he was going to be a friend, I was all for that. But friendships are give and take. This friendship turned out to be all take.
Besides being a taker, this friend behaves badly. When we met back in 2016 he had a bunch of problems and he asked for my advice, but he never took it. Things always ended badly for him, but whatever. Not my circus. When we were both back home in Portland, we did a few things together, but the friendship was pretty arm’s length. Earlier this year, I helped him renovate a little beach house he purchased using an inheritance from his Grandfather. The house is about 12 miles north of mine. I love houses and I don’t mind manual labor. I took all the photos of the house that he now uses to rent it. I also love taking photographs. Those last few weeks before I left for back east again, we spent a bit of time together.
Blue Eyes, OF COURSE, knows all about Rick. They’ve met. They actually have a lot more in common than Rick and I do. They both play the guitar, they both love sci-fi. They both collected baseball cards as children, and as it turns out, they are both addicts. I knew Rick was a food addict. That was obvious.
When I was back east this past spring, Rick called me all the time. It was like he was coming unhinged. He told me how much he missed me. He broke up with his long distance girlfriend and then she called me trying to figure out if I knew what was going on with Rick. She was worried about him because he had basically ghosted her. That did not make me happy. His girlfriend was AWESOME. He didn’t deserve her anyway.
The next time he called he told me he had been doing some things that most women wouldn’t understand, but he knew I would. I was leery. We were chatting and texting and then boom, out of the blue, he sends me a pic of a topless girl. She appears to be in her late teens, at best. I was like what the fuck??? Rick is 50! He told me he was back on the “Sugar Daddy” website. He had told me back in 2016 that once when he was lonely he went on a website by which men met women (girls, “sugar babies”) and paid for things like rent, gifts, whatever for sexual favors (or whatever you want to do together, but he said with him it was always sex). Basically prostitution. He told me he was currently “active” with four girls, but the one he had sent a pic of was his favorite. ICK ICK ICK! well, and ICK!!!
I didn’t understand why he thought I would be okay with this. I asked how old the girls were. He said most were University students just trying to make ends meet. I could feel my chest getting tight. Those girls were younger than my own children and most likely not students at all. They are prostitutes. Now, I’m not a prude, but I don’t think it’s cute when a 50 year old man is paying for sex with a teen. If the men didn’t partake, the girls would be forced to find legitimate and legal jobs. They’re not being trafficked. They are doing this because they make a lot of money doing it. To each their own, but DON’T TELL ME ABOUT IT.
And then it got worse. I told Rick I wondered what his dead grandpa would think if he knew Rick was using the precious inheritance his grandfather had scrimped and saved for paying young girls for sex. Rick had a girlfriend. He broke up with his girlfriend so he could feel better about having sex for money with teenage girls. Rick said he wasn’t hurting anyone and he was surprised that I was so irritated. REALLY? Don’t dump your garbage on my door, big fella. Maybe if Rick had been a lonely woman, I would have been more understanding? I don’t know.
But it ended like this. Rick said, and I quote “if Blue Eyes spent even 20 minutes with any of these girls, you would be obsolete.”
I explained to Rick that he is an addict and he needs to get help. I can no longer have a friendship with someone who would say something so callous and hurtful. I told him he has no idea what marriage is, what a long term intimate relationship entails and at this rate, he never will.
Rick does not understand why I am not speaking to him anymore. He still texts and messages, but never calls. I don’t message back. What a dick!