Why do they say "Whore" when you won't have sex with them? Does it even matter?

The most rewarding feeling I ever had was when someone told me gossip about someone who did me wrong, not knowing my involvement, of sorts.

Around three years ago I got to know some of my 'neighbors,' people I avoid for the most part. These people live near me, but I rarely socialize with them. There's a good reason: they're active alcoholics given to fucking wildlife. True scum-sucking pigs. I apologize to pigs for insulting them.

The male part of this folk flocked around me, something that scared the shit outta me. Even though they're my age, they possess that weathered look of lives gone bad, dreams destroyed and alcoholism gone rampant. There must've been a competition for who had the largest gut. I'm sure some of them hadn't seen their tiny dicks in decades. Their behavior's simply atrocious. I joined them once at one of their parties and quickly fled the scene. White trash is definitely not my thing, sorry to say.

One of these miserable wretches looked as if he walked perpetually in a hole. He had a few skeins of white hair in two tufts and a humongous beak with pores large enough to launch missiles. His gut stuck out at least 3 feet. I'll call him "Dick" for this story. Dick asked me to dinner one day at a local restaurant.

"Well, I promised some friends I'd join them. They're a lovely couple I've known since childhood."

He begged me so I relented. Hey, it's a free meal and I wouldn't be alone with him.

At the bar, waiting for my friends to arrive, he drank 10 beers in succession. Not counting the 3 six packs before he picked me up. My friend, Mark entered and gave me a strange look, pantomiming that I was insane to be with this chump.

"Let's go to a booth," suggested Mark after introductions were made.

"I don't wanna," said Dick, swaying on his feet.

"Bye," I said and turned away. He quickly caught up and joined us at the booth.

After we ordered dinner, Dick's speech totally slurred and he was incapable of joining in the conversation. Within seconds of being served his roast beef and mashed potatoes meal, his head fell face down onto the plate.

Stunned, I said to my friends, "Let him be." The dining patrons around us stared, pointed and took pictures. This was an unprecedented event.

Dick's drunken sleep in his meal didn't stop my friends and me from our animated conversation. We ignored him and continued on as if he weren't there. Suddenly, he picked his head up, caked with mashed potato and roast beef sliding down his face, down his shirt and onto his lap. He put his arm around me and tapped my waist. Uncomfortable, I moved his hand. He said, "Mmmph, glopp, fluchkeme," and flopped his head back onto his meal. The entire restaurant went berserk in laughter.

Much later, he popped awake and said, "Lemme take you home."

"Not before you pay the bill," I said.

"How much?" he asked.

Mark gave him a sum and he peeled off twenties and dropped them by his plate. Dick turned to me, "You coming?"

Mark said, "I'll take her home."

After the dickless wonder staggered his way out, Mark, his wonderful wife and I laughed our asses off. The restaurateur ran up to us, hysterical. Dick became an urban legend. "Never saw that in my twenty years of restaurant ownership!" she said, breathless from laughter.

Dick didn't bother me until a few weeks later when he met a 'woman' through Craigs List. She was the ugliest thing I ever saw with perfect rolls of fat from her forehead down to her feet. Physically, she didn't have one nice feature. She even had a beard! Dick's friends sidled over to me and said, "Isn't she awfully mannish?"

Dick was proud of her and introduced me as his ex-girlfriend. I ignored the man and walked away.

A year passed. One night, while hanging out at that local restaurant bar, the owner and I talked about my book, Five-Star. I gave her an autographed copy which she proudly kept at the bar.

Another patron leafed through the book and said, "It has bad words."

I laughed. "I know."

"No, you don't get it. Someone wrote bad words in it," and handed me the book. Inside the cover, someone wrote, "Whore," "Cunt," "This book sucks," and other highly intelligent remarks.

I leafed through the book and saw other comments. Addressing the owner, "Say, was Dick here tonight?"

"He left right before you came here, why?"

"This is his handwriting!" I responded. His handwriting's unique in that it resembled a child's - stilted, poorly formed block letters.

She grabbed the book out of my hands and rifled through it as well. Her eyes welled with tears. "He was here with those alkie friends of his and now I know what they did." She said they huddled over the book and howled like idiots. "I thought they read scenes from the book. What they were doing was defacing this book, a gift you gave me."

Two people passing by overheard our conversation. "Hey, I saw that guy write in that book," said one guy. "Here's my phone number and I'll give an affidavit." The other person gave us her business card and volunteered an affidavit as well. The restaurateur pulled out a writing sample from Dick's credit card receipts. Armed with this information, she decided to phone the police. "This was my personal property he destroyed. I'll show him!"

A little later, she asked, "They're sending a sheriff here tomorrow at one. Can you make it?"

"With bells on my toes," I said.

That night, Dick held a giant bonfire for all his alcoholic friends to celebrate destruction of my property. They danced around the fire, screaming, "That'll show the fucking bitch, that whore!" His girlfriend/boyfriend hooted along with their unwashed friends. For they showed me! And how!

The following day, I bumped into two of these idiots en route to the restaurant. "Have I ever said anything bad about Dick?" I asked them. "Have I ever even said a word about him?"

"Never," they said.

"So, what did I ever do to deserve the shit he wrote in my book, a book I gave to someone else?"

They thought it funny. Even more so when I went ballistic. "Well, this is the beginning. If that piece of shit feels free to call me a whore, then he better watch out. He's the one fucking the world's ugliest shemale."

They howled.

At the back of the restaurant overlooking the lake, the deputy interviewed me. He said, "I've known you forever so I know you're not sleeping with that loser. Why would he write such shit? What did you do to him?"

I looked at the deputy. "I refuse to sleep with him. I guess I'm a really bad whore, right?" Right then, the two assholes I spoke with earlier and Dick drove slowly by on a boat. "And there he is!" I crowed.

The deputy locked glances with him and growled, "No one's gonna try to intimidate me!"

To retaliate for talking to the police, Dick went to the diviest bars in town and gave my address and directions to some real choice maniacs telling them I don't charge much for sexual treats. When I got word of that, I pulled all my strings. Not only was he read the riot act and threatened should ANYTHING happen to me, he succeeded in getting that small complaint bumped up to a hate crime. For he gave the District Attorney ample evidence that, indeed, it was a hate crime. And the DA hungered to prosecute.

Dick was glum because he had to retain an attorney. It's okay to write that I'm a whore, but to be caught in the act wasn't so funny. To get ex-cons to rape and murder me was funny, but not funny enough to be caught in the act. He caused all his own difficulties and I had nothing to do with it!

To top it off, he lost credibility among his garbage friends because he fucked a shemale. He made it shave its beard and to wear a bra. It resembled Walter Matthau the few times it wore a skirt. "Is it a man or a woman?" was the rallying call. The best part, when it walked Dick's dog, everyone stared at it, betting as to its sex and whether it had its dick cut off.

In the midst of this 'tourbillon de folie,' I said to someone in my town, "No one will remember why he's going through this legal morass and what he did to me. One thing, though, is they'll remember he's fucking the ugliest shemale known in existence."

A month ago, some guy starts talking to me of all things, about Dick getting married now that same-sex marriage is legal in New York State. "But no one knows what sex it is or whether it finished changing sexes. That motherfucker's some ugly beast. Not that Dick's any better." He added in confidence, "Dick had to pay over $50,000 in fines so as not to go to jail for a hate crime he committed."

I knew that Dick had to pay through his giant pore-ridden nose to escape jail-time. Yet, had no idea the amount. It's gratifying to know it cost the schmuck money. Perhaps this time he learned that it's not nice to fuck with me.

It goes to show that calling a woman who refuses to sleep with the white trash element a "whore" puts a spin on the word. It loses its impact. It's also insulting to people who earn their living that way. And confusing to the masses.

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This blog and all its posts are a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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