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Today I’m going to tell you guys about the last time I saw my friend Gonzo. It was more than a few years back. I had recently finalized my divorce from Dumb Beans and was in the best shape of my life. Why I had just posed for Playboy and was currently awaiting my big call back rejection from Hugh Hefner.

My good friend Sheila had decided she was no longer a lesbian and getting married to an actual man. So of course I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see that! Err ok, to have an excuse to spend a weekend in Las Vegas!

Whatever.

There was only one problem, I didn’t have a date.

So I did what any newly skinny, single skank in desperate need for a vacation would do in a situation like this. That’s right!

I called up the first person I could think of with a gambling addiction.

It didn’t take much for me to convince Gonzo to go. “I’ll pick you up Friday afternoon, the hotel is already paid for!” 

“You don’t have to ask me twice. I’ll even cover gas. Give me a day or two to come up with an excuse to tell my girlfriend,” he begged.

Now I don’t know how many of you read It’s not my fault.: MICROBOOK (One) and remember what fucking Gonzo did to me last time we went to Vegas, but if you did you probably have a good idea of what’s to come.

No pun intended.

Anyway, back to my story.

That night I packed a suitcase full of little cocktail dresses that covered my body (not much more than a towel would have), along with several pairs of glittery stiletto heels, that when on my feet, put me over six feet tall.

I thought it would be fun to tower over Gonzo in the casino. I began to imagine myself taking his wallet away from him (should he get too far out of line at the poker table) and holding it in the air as he jumped up and down begging me to give it back. I’d swat at him like he was a disobedient child or a dumb dog. “No Gonzo, bad boy! Bad!” I would scold.

I’m a bitch.

The next day I piled my crap into the back of my car and headed out to get my friend. Forty minutes later I pulled up in front of his house.

“Man, until a half hour ago I wasn’t even sure I could go,” Gonzo admitted while climbing into my car. His face looked flushed.

“What do you mean?” I asked my little mexi-friend. I was taken aback  by his confession and slightly pissed off. Was this some kind of joke? I couldn’t show up to a wedding alone! He should have been more sensitive to my needs.

“No, I’m serious! Tonight is Jessica’s dad’s birthday party. The whole family is going and I promised I would too, like weeks ago. I totally forgot about it!”

“Oh shit, well how did you manage to escape that?” Now I was curious.

“If anyone asks, your brother was in a motorcycle accident yesterday and is now in a coma and you desperately needed someone to drive you out because you are too upset to drive yourself.”

“She actually believed that shit?”

With a grin Gonzo replied, “I told you already, I’m a master manipulator.”

“You are one evil son of a bitch. But you are right, you are good,” I laughed.

Gonzo put his hand onto my thigh and began to move it up my skirt.

“God damn it Gonzo!” I shouted. “How many times do I have to tell you? NO FUNNY BUSINESS!”

“Ok, ok,” he lied, throwing both his hands up in defeat, “I promise, no funny business.”

The sun was still shining when we arrived to our hotel several hours later, and as fast as we could we got our asses checked in, changed and to the casino floor. Gonzo hit the poker table and I immediately found the slot machine with the closest proximity to a cocktail waitresses.

Hey, Gonzo had the gambling problem after all, not me. I had other demons to contend with.

That’s right, I was in it for the free hooch!

A few hours and several rounds of cocktails later Gonzo took a seat next to my slot machine. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m up by $20 bucks,” I slurred.

“Good, can you lend me some? I’m all out.”

I let out a sigh, reached into my purse and handed Gonzo a $20.

“Thanks,” he said while pervertedly grabbing a handful of my bountiful bosom.

I slapped Stud-uardo’s hands off me and returned to my game.

A few more hours went by and I was having trouble focusing on the machine due to double vision. I stood up on my sparkly stilts and faster than a busted drug dealer could shove a balloon of heroin up his ass, I toppled face first to the casino floor. My margarita glass flew five feet into the air and landed with a “thud” against the side of an oxygen machine connected to an elderly woman with a lit cigarette dangling from her lips like she waiting to explode. 

The contents of my purse scattered all around me. My dress was now a belt exposing both of my saggy white butt cheeks. As I tried to pull myself up, I noticed both of my breasts were exposed as well.

“FUCK!” I screamed after noticing the crowd that had gathered around me. I heard a distinct chuckle as a hand came to my rescue.

“You alright?” Gonzo asked. “Come on, let’s get you back to the room.”

Gonzo helped me put my purse together and the good friend he was, even took me to the bar to grab one last drink to take up stairs with us.

“You looked hot laying on your stomach like that,” he said to me once we entered the room.

“Shut up. You have a girlfriend!”  I reminded Juli-ho.

“Right but we have an ‘understanding,'” he lied.

“Uh huh. Whatever Gonzo. I said no funny business!”

Gonzo put his hand on my shoulder,  “Shhh… It’s just me,” he said with a twinkle in his little brown sociopathic eyes. Then he turned me around facing the bed and gently pushed me onto it. I gave just a little resistance as he pulled up my skirt and began massaging my ass with his dirty paws.

I was shit faced, exhausted and I already knew from experience it would be over fast. So, I let the little brown Muppet do his thing.

Uh huh.

Gonzo pulled my panties off and inserted all 3 millimeters of his little peter into my rectum. He thrusted that thing with all his might for a good five minutes before releasing his load inside me. The best part about sex with Gonzo was I didn’t have to pretend to have an orgasm.

He didn’t even care.

I got off the bed and went to clean myself off in the bath, stopping only to grab what was left of my margarita of course!

The water was warm and soothing. I relaxed for a good half hour, until my fingers and toes became all pruney and the bathroom mirror was covered in steam. After getting out I wrapped myself in a big fluffy towel. I was ready to crawl under the covers and pass out. I was sure Gonzo was already asleep and I was grateful the room had two standard sized beds.

I stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

That’s when I saw it.

In the same place I had been just a half an hour before was another woman! Her bulbous black butt cheeks were in the air and Gonzo had his mediocre member stuffed between them. She let out a soulful moan that reminded me of a gospel singer. I didn’t know anyone could sound so angelic during sex.

She was definitely faking it.

“Oh heeeey Asterisk! This is my friend Rhonda, I met her down at the poker table. I invited her up to meet you, I think you two will like each other.”

“Hi!” Rhonda managed to squeeze out in between moans.

“What the fuck Gonzo?” I shouted.

Pfft. I was definitely happy there were two beds now.

I was pissed off but more so I was in shock. Who knew that little guy had a motor like that in his lil pecker? I’m not gonna lie, even though I was disgusted, I was impressed. Also, I was pretty glad I wasn’t his girlfriend.

Seeing me catch him must have been what he wanted because I unwillingly watched him pull out his dinger and release his load of icing all over his second piece of cake.

Thoroughly disgusted, I crawled into bed and hid my face under a pillow. Luckily it didn’t take me long to pass out.

When I awoke the next morning Rhonda was gone and Gonzo was in the shower. I reluctantly got up in search of some water. I found a bottle in the mini fridge and chugged it like a beer at a frat party. I had just finished my life juice when Gonzo opened the bathroom door. He was dressed, shaven and his hair was combed. He even smelled like cologne.

How do men do that?

“Hey Asterisk, I’m gonna head down to the poker table for a bit before we leave for the wedding. What do you think you need to get ready? About an hour?”

“Yes,” I mumbled.

Dick.

About an hour and fifteen minutes later I was finally ready. I grabbed the wedding invitation and made my way down to the casino to find Gonzo. He was still at the poker table with a mountain of $5 chips in front of him.

“You ready?” I asked him a bit annoyed.

“No, not yet, I’m up!”

“That’s great Gonzo, but we have to leave now,” I scolded.

“Hey, you know you are never supposed to tell someone to leave when they winning! Go get a drink, we will leave soon!” he promised.

A drink did sound like a good idea so I did what I always did and found the best cocktail waitress in the casino to sit by. I threw a $20 in the machine and placed my order.

When I finally checked the time on my phone it was 1:30 pm, the wedding had already started.  

Whatever.  I didn’t care anymore. 

I was drunk.

Still, I hefted my boozy ass up and went in search of my friend. Luckily he was down to his last chip and ready to go.

“You drive,” I slurred, handing him the keys.

Because we were so late we decided to skip the ceremony and head straight to the reception hall. We arrived an hour before the wedding party. Lucky for us, the reception was being held at a winery!

“Gonzo, want to do some wine tasting while we wait?” I asked, batting my drooping eyelashes.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Together we sat and we drank until the rest of the wedding party and the guests arrived. To be honest, I can’t remember any details of the reception at all, I can just remember what happened afterwards.

It was dark when we said our good byes to the new bride and groom. We got in my car to head back to the casino and once again Gonzo was in the driver’s seat. He made a quick stop to fill up for gas and that’s when I did it.

While Gonzo was inside paying the cashier I moved into the driver’s seat. Gonzo didn’t notice me until he was done pumping.

“I’m driving!” I drunkenly announced. Even though Gonzo had been drinking a lot too, he still felt he was better suited to be in control of a vehicle. He was probably right, or maybe we should have just called a cab.

At any rate, he was not pleased.

“You are not driving Asterisk, move over,” he ordered.

“I will not!” I announced.

“I’m not playing with you asterisk. Move the fuck over.” Gonzo’s face had begun to turn red. Still I was insistent.

“I said,  I. Will. Not… Dick.”

Gonzo began to shout, “MOVE THE FUCK OVER NOW!”

I found his anger amusing and started to laugh. Gonzo did not like that. I know because before I even saw it coming he shoved me with all his might into the passenger seat. I grabbed the keys out of his hand.

Gonzo’s face became twisted, his eyes began to bulge and out came a rage I hadn’t seen on a man since my ex boyfriend Pepe a decade earlier.

Gonzo swung at me, the rest gets a bit blurry but at some point he grabbed me by the neck and put me into a sleeper hold.

I awoke in my car the next morning. I was in the parking lot of the hotel and Gonzo was gone. Almost immediately I could feel the massive pain. I looked down to find I barely had movement in my neck. My arms and legs were covered in bruises and cuts. I grabbed my purse and limped back to our room.

Once to the door I began frantically searching for the room key. While searching I noticed that all my cash along with my debit card were missing.

I eventually found the Key.

Shyly, I entered expecting to find Gonzo, but the room was empty. I walked into the bathroom and gazed in the mirror. I was shocked to see my face. My nose was swollen, one of my eyes were black and I had a cut across my left cheek. I scanned downward to see the majority of my body was black and blue.

What the hell had happened to me?

I ran into the bedroom and dumped out my purse to no avail. I had not a cent nor a card to get home on. I scurried back out of the casino.

“It must be in the car,” I told myself, but after a long search all I could find was Gonzo’s overnight bag. I had no choice but to call him.

I picked up my phone and dialed his number, the phone was off.

Hesitantly, I called Sheila.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he did that to you, that bastard!” she wailed.

“I’m sorry to put you through this on the day after your wedding but can I borrow some money to get home?”

“Of course, I’ll drop it by in an hour.”

I made it home that night but it took several weeks for my body to heal. I finally talked to Gonzo a few days later. He told me that he had made his girlfriend drive out Nevada to pick him up that night but denied having taken my money or card. Then he went on a rant about how I made him hurt me.

I hung up the phone and never talked to him again. Though, I know he has been reading my blog.

I threw his bag in the dumpster a month later.

Hi Gonzo. Fuck off.

 

4 thoughts on “Double Standard Sleeper

  1. I just saw the email about your post (haven’t read them recently) and my thought was: YEAY, you’re back! Missed you loads.
    This was a great story, albeit tragic, very well written. 👍
    I loved the phrase “his little brown sociopathic eyes” 😀

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