I can relate to that. Lord knows that my life has changed loads in the two years and some months. The birth of my daughter has really shaken things up for both Kaz and myself… In a good way, of course. However, the crazy experiences are still there. They’re just more… grown up.
sub’d
stories have been pretty good so far.
Dude With A Sword:
my fucked up story happened last year, right before Christmas.
First semester at college had wrapped up, and I was still staying at the place I was renting. First off, let me say what a fucking HORRIBLE idea it is having student housing, and then letting welfare bums move in. I have at any time 2-3 welfare bums who stay in this house (which I chose to stay at due to amazing rent, and it’s 2 blocks from my college), depending on when they get kicked off welfare or just stop paying rent.
So there are two of these fucking bums in my house at the time, Nadin (some yugoslavian 20 year old) and Steve (this 30+ year old gimp who has claimed for like 4 years that his hand is too fucked up to work, so he NEVER has money, and is always stating "Im still fighting for more disability pension). Apparantly at another house our landlord owns these two fucks lived there and had HUGE fights, until Nadin moved. He eventually moved back after getting into a fight where he moved to, and was put in this house. Yay.
So yeah, during the winter, Nadin would hang out with this Jamaican guy who lives upstairs, and sit in the kitchen smoking non-stop pot until like 3am. We would have food go missing in the house daily (never a surprise in a house with welfare recipients), and this was a constant source of fights in the house. Also, Nadin and the Jamaican loved to walk around the house (no job = lots of walking around the house) in shorts and summer shit, yet be too fucked to understand how a house works. They would leave all the windows and front door WIDE open so the kitchen had a nice breeze in it, but then complain about how their rooms were cold, so therefore turn the thermostat to full. So those of us in the other rooms would sweat like pigs. I would sleep IN WINTER wearing no clothes or boxers, and with no sheets, and would sometimes have to open my window to stop from sweating to death.
So the one day the one roommate Steve goes to turn down the thermostat. And Nadine responds by jumping on his back and trying to choke him to death. They then have a nice fight in the kitchen, and my knifes (I have a really nice cooking setup, and a few really knife collections) end up becoming weapons that Nadine feels are fine to throw at somebody. The rest of the house ended up breaking it up after Nadine started slamming the fridge door shut on Steves head repeatedly. Warnings were given, landlord was notified.
Around December 20th, Steve comes out to the kitchen to find Nadine cooking Steve’s eggs. When Steve says “those are my eggs” Nadine yet again attacks him, and the house comes running to the kitchen to find our kitchen table busted, and Nadine smashing a wood chair to pieces over Steve’s back. Now I hate Steve, but just because he’s a waste of life. I wouldn’t attack him like this. So I figure “enough of this shit” and call the cops. After the cops come and give the two parties a warning, Nadine knocks on my door and freaks out on me, warning me to mind my own business and stay out of his shit. I just tell him to fuck off and close the door in his face (I love closing the door in people’s face…such a great stfu moment). Couple of days later (December 23rd) I wake up, and it’s like 430am and I smell tomatoes. Like fucking hardcore. I toss and turn, but can’t get back to sleep due to the smell. Finally I’m awake enough that my body decides it is time to piss, so I get up and head to the bathroom. Open my door, and notice that the entire door frame is COVERED in spaghetti sauce. And the floor. Immediately, I know its Nadine being a dick, and I figure I ain’t getting any sleep until I get rid of this sauce. So I grab a fuckload of paper towels, turn on the sink, and get to cleaning.
About a minute or so later, I hear a door SLAM downstairs, and rapid footsteps running up the steps. I turn, and see Nadine standing there, with a mother fucking cutlass. Now I’m a tough enough guy that I have stared down some fucking horrifying situations in my life (get to them another day), but even I bow down to a fucking pirate sword. Nadine doesn’t even bother trying words, he just raises this sword and fucking swings at my head. Dunno to this day whether I dodged that shit or if he missed, but next thing I know I am in my room, door locked, and barricaded in (you would be amazed how fast you can move a desk, armoire, and drawers, when somebody is coming at you), while scavenging my room for weapons. Believe me, trying to figure out which makes a better weapon, hockey stick vs knife, is not a fun decision when it could be life altering. I also obviously call the cops.
First of all, lemme say that calling the cops at like 4 in the morning and telling them that there is a dude at your door trying to kill you with a pirate sword does NOT go over well. Let’s just say that you have to clarify that shit several times for the dispatcher. However, when they’re finally on board with you, you’d better believe you get cops at your house lickity split. I can hear the sirens getting closer from all directions, and when i feel I am safe, I leap out my window and run around the front to the cops. Nadine was still hammering at my door last I heard.
Next, I should mention I NEVER considered how bad the situation looks to the cops. I tell the cops that are there 'hey I’m XXXXXXXX I just called you, he’s still inside". Cops look inside and see shit knocked over in one room, and at the end of a hallway, a huuuuuuuuge pool of ‘blood’ (the spaghetti sauce). Guns get drawn, and I’m lying down with my hands behind my head right quick. After a bit of explaining and ID showing, the cops finally let me up (I should say that there are like 10-12 cops there). I later realized how dangerous the situation could have been for them. They eventually head down into the basement, guns drawn, to look for Nadine (who has now ninja vanished, but I know he is just in his room…you can hear EVERY door in our house open and kinda just learn to know which doors have or haven’t been opened). Cops bang on his door for like 10 minutes, then literally fucking LEAVE. They can’t find him, are likely not gonna go look for him, are leaving nobody hear as protection, and just tell me to call them again if they see him.
I spend the next few hours trying to sleep and stay awake simultaneously, surrounded by hockey sticks and butchers knives, staring at all my windows (I have windows on 2 walls, as well as my door…lots of entry points). At around 9am I am awakened from one of them half sleeping half awake stupors. Banging at my door from Nadine, and promises of being killed and being driven insane and laughing about how he hid from the cops under his bed (lol). So I call the cops AGAIN. They tell me a car will be over shortly (hahaha). 20 minutes later, by luck, the landlord shows up (Nadine hadn’t paid rent in about 2-3 months, and got weekly visits from him by this point), and I tell him about what happened the night before, and how the cops were already on their way. Nadine goes ballistic, starts spitting at me (this kid is like 5’4" and could barely handle the gimp Steve), and his mouth starts spewing obscenities. ALL OF THEM. Over the next 30 minutes (yes, cops took about an HOUR to get there) I heard it all. I fucked every member of my family, they all fucked each other, I was a f**, a whore, a slut, a queer, an asshole, a shitfucker, you name it, I was it. Or did it. Or had it done to me.
Landlord and I quickly realize this shit is bonkers, so we kinda walk upstairs to the kitchen (and it’s knives), and wait for the cops. Meanwhile, Nadine spends the next half hour yelling nonstop, singing crazily (ever hear somebody about to go to jail for a long time start nervously singing songs to keep their mind sane??? shit is SCARY), and every so often he would walk upstairs and challenge me to a fight outside, then go stand outside and shout for all the neighbours to hear, that a fight was coming.
Anywho, to wrap up this part of the story, cops come, arrest him, he tries to plead innocence there, cops laugh about how he hid from them when he was innocent. Detectives arrive later on to go through his room. In his room they find:
1 Mattress
4 Shirts
2 Pairs of Pants
1 shitty little end table
5 swords
that was it. Aside from those objects, and the fact his walls were COVERED in writing (not shit like “bonnie wuz here '02” or “smoke weed every day”, just swear words and random words like PRIDE or KILL), that room was bare.
So he got charged with a ton of stuff (uttering death threats, assault with a weapon, and a few others), and was given a restraining order and told not to have any contact with me. And he had to live in one of them homes downtown. And I have to go to court for this shit on the first day of school in September 
so yeah, that’s the sword story…oh, and FYI, that wasn’t the last I saw of him, as he came back to challenge me to a fight about 2 months ago, requiring another call to the cops.
And my favourite part of the story, was when I called my mother after all the shit was done and I had got back from the police station filling out police reports:
mom: oh hey, how is your day
me: terrible…my roommate tried to kill me today with a sword…just got back from the cops now
mom: oh thats too bad…your sister had a bad day at work too
me: wtf???
…Holy shit, dude. You should have duct tape’d a butcher knife to one of your hockey sticks. Subscribed.
Attentive mums for the win!
Great stuff.
i have never seen these threads, somehow. fuck me.
since my condition has worsened and im literally confined to either the hospital, or home, i will probably be able to share a ton of stories in this thread, most are about ridiculous debauchery and funny shit, but i dunno, i felt like sharing a fight story.
in 2004, i was up in tahoe for new years eve. i had a lot of friends up there, and knew pretty much everybody who lived in south lake as i had lived up there the previous year, and lets just say i was a party supply distributor. so, im there in a nice, big cabin, with a few of my homies and my little brother, and a couple of my brothers friends. i ended up getting so loaded, that i fell asleep at around five o’clock, missed the fireworks and the casino hijinks, all that shit. i was kinda bummed, but being that i knew about 5,000 hot girls up there for the weekend, i figured i throw a party for myself. got about 50 girls in the house, and maybe ten other guys besides the close friends and shit. party was poppin nicely, LOTS of girls making out and clothes disappearing, cocaine, ecstasy, BEERBONGING LIQUOR, it was just a rager. well, a couple of the random guys that showed up, i knew to be kind of meat head fucks, but before i got sick, i kind of had a reputation of not being the dude to fuck with or disrespect, so i wasnt worried about anybody acting stupid and ruining the party and chances of an orgy going down.
of course, i was wrong, and while im making out with this bangin redhead, i see out of the corner of my eye, my homeboy on the ground in the kitchen. i walked up and the general consensus was that my friend had gotten a little physical with dude, and dude just kinda slapped him or whatever and my friend was so drunk he kinda got discombobulated. being a reasonable human being, i said whatevs and started making out with some other girls.
its worth noting that my little brother was very large, he was a linebacker who was actively being scouted by the nfl at the time, at only 18 years old. anyway, he was upstairs in a room smashing on some chick.
five minutes later, i see the same guy swinging on my other homie, and im like this is fucked. so, i sprinted across the house and knock this dude out. ONE SHOT BRO ONE SHOT.
the guy was really, really big, and u know how some ppl wake up right away after they get knocked out? he was like that, so i thought i still had to finish the job. i used to carry a knife with me at all times, so i figured i should just stab him in the face and that will be that, nobody really will fight back after being stabbed in the face unless youre in prison.
i pull out the knife, and as i am thrusting it down at his head, his friend kicks my hand and the knife goes flying, i’m very glad that happened, in retrospect. so, my friend who got swung on starts thumping on this other guy, while im on top of this fucking knocked out scrub asshole. i punched him once, and i felt his face cave in, and then someone put me in a choke hold and dragged me off of him, i bit a piece out of his arm and he started screaming and basically all the girls started screaming bloody murder. my little brother comes out of the room with no shirt on and just says calmly “who just got in a fight with my brother?”. lol, these dudes wanted NO MORE and just shut the fuck up quick. started saying “oh we’re just defending ourselves this guy is fucking insane we’re calling the cops on him blah blah”.
he is like “dont fuck with my brother. get out of this house now.” PICKS UP caved-in-face guy off the floor by his neck, and throws him out the front door into the snow. his buddy who is missing part of his arm says some shit about going to the trunk, and runs out to his car, with their other little friends following. i didnt have a gun, and my knife was missing, so i grabbed one of those stand up room lights, and broke the base off so its just basically a metal pole, and ran outside to stop these guys from shooting up the place. keep in mind, i had my shirt ripped off, was literally covered in blood, screaming holding a metal pipe, and they had just seen me try to cut their buddy’s head off and then bite a chunk of flesh off the other one.
no gun play came to be. they ran the fuck away. i smashed in their windshield a bit, then went inside.
needless to say, this had pretty much ruined the mood, and the girls were all completely terrified. maybe five or six stuck around, because i do remember smashing, and some of my other homies got laid, too.
anyways, it turned out that the kid had to get like five surgeries to get his face looking ok again. i really only punched him twice, maybe he didnt drink enough milk. his name was dave and he’s a bitch. if you ever meet a blonde guy in tahoe with a slightly disfigured grill, slap his fucking face for me.
oh yea, i didnt say how my shirt got ripped off, it actually happened before the fight. i was about to smash on like four high school girls at once and they just snatched that shit off like a cartoon.
throughout my life, i have been a part of a lot of fights, and there is no such thing as fair fighting. so, to anybody who thinks im some kind of psycho or something, just realize i am probably the most scared person ever in a fight. so, i try to end it very quickly if i cannot avoid it altogether. that is accomplished by shocking violence, so thats what i’ve had to do.
yay…so crazy sword dude came back to my house overnight. My ENTIRE basement is smeared with shit EVERYWHERE. Every square fucking inch of my basement is now literally covered in shit. And I don’t mean shit as in random stuff. I mean mother fucking poop.
At least I get the day off work. Now I just have to figure out how in the FUCK to clean up poop (maybe I can convince the cops to do it???)
WTF? dude must’ve been shitting in buckets for days for that to happen 
the buildings landlord said the same thing. This is either several days worth of collected defecating, or somebody can take 5 lb shits without tearing something up
good fucking shit
this lets hope this thread is half as man as the past 2
nice to see the ogs sifu, stuck, etc
wtf why cant i have non insane or fucked up roommates.
read previously about my other roommates. Anywho, gimp hand guy Steve, I talk to him just now and mention “hey internet is slow, since the routers in your room, you wanna deal with that?” He looks at me and says "oh thats probably cuz CSIS is tracking me CSIS is like Canada’s CIA. So Im like “yeah sure, fix it if u can.” And he goes “probably CIA too, after what I did”.
I wouldn’t find this odd if it wasn’t for the fact that:
a) he’s a fucked up psycho cripple who LIVES on coffee, pancakes, and his piece of shit 15 year old computer that barely gets internet.
b) he’s been muttering to himself all day
c) nothing normal ever happens in my life, especially when it comes to roommates.
d) he plays some fucking online text based game (similar to games like Evony or whatever but with text, and its in space and you capture moons with death stars or some shit)…all day, every day, ALL DAY. Literally. Only this. And he ONLY talks about it (which makes no sense…imagine walking up to somebody randomly on the street and saying “oh I love how Ryu can Focus Cancel a shoryuken into his 1st ultra.” If you know SF you’re good, if not WTF!!! And he complains about Turkish hackers who are the top players and his rivals.
wtf wtf wtf is it still illegal to kill somebody?
So I’m bored tonight, and I actually do have a couple of crazy stories to tell so let’s get to it.
First a short and not so crazy but mostly funny story. Ill call it:
The invisible bar stool fight
Starring:
Phoenix: Yours truly
Acidfire: Another one on these boards who will be posting his own crazy story shortly!
Remember the shady place from this story?
Well we were there again going out. And the whole night it was just a bad night, people were clearly pissed of with each other, and a fight was clearly about to break out.
We played some foosball because that was kind of our thing back then. Me and Acidfire were particularly into this. While we were playing a fight broke out behind us, people being thrown over the bar, glasses being smashed all that stuff.
Acidfire didn’t notice a single thing. Okay sure I can kind of understand that, vaguely, since it was behind us, weren’t if for the fact that our opponent did see it all and was telling us to watch our back. But I guess Acidfire was absorbed in the game.
This was only the first of the many fights that night, the mood was truly horrible and we left early because, yeah we didn’t want to be part of it.
But before we left, we sat down at the tables. And at some point this guy throws one of the women over the table, and throws a fucking BAR STOOL in her FACE. By the time that had subsided we chose to leave.
Acidfire was disappointed: “Why did we leave!? I was having a great time!”, apparently he even missed that fight.
It was both baffling and hilarious.
Next story coming up shortly, it’s a longer story so it’ll take some time to write out. It will be called “The Rooftop Adventures”
EDIT:
I want to add: Good shit to Sovi3t and sailorsaturn to post up some pretty crazy stories.
Oh shit, the tl;dr thread is BACK! Part IV!
(j/k, I love these threads) subbed!
^_-;
Very Subbed
Hey Sifu, was it you that had the story about the older broad with the lingerie store or something near a place you worked at? Or was that someone else?
so I just got back from court, versus the dreaded Sword ***.
First of all, the defence attourney was SMOKING hot. Tall sexy blond, with glasses…however she wore a grey business suit/skirt thing, with these fucking neon purple kicks. She looked like some kinda fucked up hooker lawyer.
Next, her defence was fucking horrible. I was SOOOO nervous about taking the stand, until I realized I could be a snide dick to her, and she had to take it (mind you she tried that shit on me, and it just gave me a hard on). She tried to argue that insulting my family shouldn’t matter (whatever, didnt REALLY apply to the trial at hand), and that challenging somebody to a fight isn’t a threat.
She also started off her questioning with “do you have superpowers?” to which I literally laughed at her stupidity for about 40 seconds…on the stand…into a microphone. After I stopped laughing, she’s like “well you managed to wake up to the smell of tomatoes. That’s a powerful nose you have there.”
I responded by licking my lips (seriously) and telling her “its kinda hard to not notice the smell of tomatoes when your windows and doors and walls have been COVERED with them”
When I mentioned noticing a sword in his hands, because I could see the metal gleaming, she told me that was impossible. I stared at her like she grew wings and yet AGAIN laughed at her. I then reminded her that metal is shiny, and she could check her kitchen if she didn’t believe me.
She also took exception that I armed myself with knives in my room, when the other fucker had a sword. She also sarcastically claimed I was mighty brave to hang around my house after being threatened with a sword. I smiled, reminded her how much of a little pussy her client was (how nice to be able to say shit to a persons face, and they cant do fuck all back), and told her it would take more than a few pokes from a sword to stop me. I shit you not. Not to mention that I don’t have to worry about jail when I kill a man in self defence (didnt say that though).
She also got put in her place when she tried to object to some shit. Judge laughed (seriously, the dude never stopped smiling or laughing all fucking day I was in court, no matter what trial was going on or what was being said) and reminded her it proved motive (she was trying to claim that him threatening me the day before, for calling the cops on him, had nothing to do with the trial).
And my favourite part:
her: so you have 7 people living in your house. How did you know it was my client that vandalized you?
me: umm, none of the rest of them chased me with a fucking sword immediately after
So now I just have to wait for the police to call, and lemme know what his sentence will be (I didnt stay around, cuz I had already been in court over an hour and a half, and i did NOT wanna stick around for the half hour recess).
On a side note, the two people who were before me in court:
-
a smoking hot crack/coke addict who’s story made no sense. If you’ve been clean for four years, why did you miss your last 4 court dates because you were still trying to get clean???
-
some prominent business man with connections all the fuck over (i was only paying half attention at that point) who got busted for a DUI and now can’t drive ever again. That’s what you get for driving THE WRONG WAY ON A ONE WAY STREET, TURNING THE WRONG WAY ONTO YET ANOTHER ONE WAY STREET, THEN SMASHING INTO A COP CAR. Oh and having 7x the legal limit of alcohol in your system
Stuc should repost some old stories for the new blood to read.
That was most certainly me.
Here ya go…
GAMESTATION:
While I was working for Gamestation as a store manager, I looked after a branch in Slough, just outside London, to the west a bit. I didn’t mind the hour and a bit commute, by car, because I knew that each day would be filled with its own set of comedic drama… That, and the fact that I was knobbing the manager of the shop next door, Anne Summers…That, of course, wasn’t her name. She was called Christine and she was a fit 39 year old MILF who happened to work there. She had been placed at Anne Summers, Slough, to try and raise their failing business a week before I got there, and quickly realised that she was quite good at raising the temperatures of the majority of shop owners who were also based on that parade.
Christine was the ageing underwear model type so she had the curves, just not the obligatory plastic enhancements, and had a tendency of wearing cleavage revealing, figure hugging, tops and skirts which were just short enough to let you know that she was wearing stockings underneath… I guess, looking back, she would have been the perfect advertisement for a sex shop, always sporting something on her person which you could also find on display somewhere in the store. Although I labelled her as a MILF, she didn’t actually have any children, and didn’t plan any either, later explaining that she loved her busy social life too much. Her hair was short and a deep shade of purple, and she had a tattoo on her left breast which no one could quite make out, and for which she never offered an explanation… Yeah, I’ll get to that later.
I first met Christine on my first day in the job of store manager here. I had just come from my other store in Chiswick, west London to see that everything ran smoothly. Christine would turn out to be the person who would make my days fly by. She had, in her store, a similar set up to mine; it manned by five members of staff who were all girls, of which, one was her deputy, and each one interesting in their own unique way. In my shop, there was myself, my deputy and three ‘grunts’. All guys, all gaming nerds. This set up worked well, especially as we were all incredibly passionate about our respective gaming genres.
The Slough branch of Gamestation had just opened successfully, that Monday, and we soon found ourselves busy with the locals who were eager to trade in their games for a bit of much needed cash. Gamestation were the first in the area to offer this service and the natives were quick to pick up on it. Anyway, as the day went on, we found ourselves running out of small change, so i decided to go on a mission to ask some of the local shops if they would help us out. Besides, I wanted to find out just how friendly they all were.
The first few shops I tried weren’t very helpful at all, probably assuming that I just wanted their till opened for an easy robbery, and the last I tried, before Anne Summers, a small jewellers, asked me to leave as they had never seen me before… It was then that I decided to swallow my pride and try the only place I had been avoiding, the one place I had always associated with pervs and desperate women? The high street sex shop, Anne Summers.
I walked in, grumpy and pissed off, expecting to be told that I wasn’t welcome, but was instead greeted by a cute Indian girl who later told me her name was Anji. She was all smiles and white teeth, the kind of girl who would look great in a photo with a sunny beach as a backdrop.
Anji: hey there, can I help?
Me: (expecting the worst) yeah, I just need some change.
Anji: (looking at me) aren’t you the guy from next door…? Gamestation?
Me: yup.
Anji: cool (smiling, broadly) just wait a moment, k?
I stood in the middle of the shop, feeling a little out of place with all the sex aids hanging from the walls. Looking for something to do while I waited, I walked over to where the Dildos were and picked up a Rampant Rabbit, wondering how a woman would want to prefer this mess of plastic and rubber over a warm, breathing, man when I noticed a ridiculously large piece. I think it was called the ‘Vaginator’ or some such. Just as I was reaching for it, I heard a husky voice over my shoulder say, “I hope that’s not wishful thinking, young man.” I started, and immediately felt awkward after realising the preDICKament I was in.
As I turned, Rampant Rabbit in hand, I was greeted by a woman, who would later introduce herself to be Christine.
Me: Yo. (Banging my chest, with a little extra bass in my voice, trying to be manly)
Christine: don’t worry, we get all types in here… By the way, you’ll need some lube for that one…
Me: (thankful that she couldn’t see me blushing under my dark skin) …umm. I just… Umm…
Christine: I?m joshing with you!
She smiled and introduced herself as the manager, along with her name, and then asked me what I needed. I told her and, after placing the Rabbit back on its peg, followed her over to where the tills were, where she changed up my notes for coins.
Christine: so, you’re the new boss from next door, right?
Me: yup.
Christine: we’ll, you’ve already met my second, Anji… So, how’s Slough treating you?
Me: like a convict. They aint friendly round these parts, are they? (putting on my best West Country accent)
Christine: (laughing) nope, not in the slightest…
Me: …
Christine: …in fact, apart from the girls working here, you’re the first friendly face I’ve seen.
Me: same here… Umm, except I don’t have girls working for me… (god, I didn’t realise I was so shit at small talk!)
We stood there for a moment in one of those ‘pregnant pause’ situations, not quite knowing what to say next. We both knew that we were outsiders in this small town (she came from Essex originally, but now travelled in from north London) and were eager to find out just what else we had in common. I decided not to push it, however. I just thanked her for the change, and left.
Back at Gamestation, I was busy telling my assistant manager what had happened. His name was Robert and had been recruited from our competitors who were, at the time, GAME. He had travelled down from Ireland to take up the position after being headhunted, and was eager to make his mark within the company. He even headed a few campaigns as a poster boy, his face being used to promote some of the companies advertising drives.
So, as you can imagine, Robert (no homo) was a very handsome man (no homo). He was younger than my then 26 years, and had a string of stories of his own to share (no homo).
The next few days were more of the same. Christine visiting my shop, me visiting hers… and for some really stupid reasons, too. That didn’t matter, though, as long as the lines of communication were kept open and we got our daily fix of each other… Interestingly enough, It seemed that Christine and i weren?t the only ones flirting with each other. Robert had been eying Anji for quite some time, and the rest of the guys in my shop had been chasing the girls next door, almost as soon as they found out that Gamestation was opening! Though they left Christine out, when she arrived, because she was ‘too old’ for them… Talk about getting your bids in early!
It want until the end of the week on Friday, that Anji, the girl I first met in Anne Summers, walked into the store with a magazine. She approached me at the counter and handed it over with a sly smile, and a wink for Robert, before sauntering out.
I looked at the front cover and realised that it was one of their companies monthly publications. Thinking nothing of it, I handed it to Robert who started leafing through the pages while I continued with the important task of battering some kid who claimed he could take me on CvS2 on the PS2.
Robert: umm, Sifu… I think you need to see this…
Me: one sec, man…
Robert couldn’t be arsed to wait. He came over to where I was and plopped the magazine down in front of me. There, spread across the centre pages, was Christine, sitting on a bed with cream satin sheets and with rose petals everywhere. The covers she held in her left hand masked that breast and half of her upper body, but left little to the imagination as to her shape. Her legs were crossed, but fully visible, and were both clad in silky black stockings, bottomed off with a pair of high heeled Mary Janes. As I looked at the spread, I could also see part of the black, near transparent, corset she was wearing. I was stunned at how great she looked… And, while my mouth was hung open, the little snot rag I was playing stole his victory and legged it out of the store. The feature in the magazine was on lingerie, and how it was becoming more popular with older women eager to reclaim that ‘lost spark’, or something. What was really interesting, however, was what was scribbled across the bottom of the photo in black marker pen. The hand written text read:
And how do you sleep…?
Yates, tonight @ 8.30. Bring your boys…
Christine xXx
Now, Yates was the main Pub cum Club in this town, a place I had never been to. Robert had, however, and told me that I should be fine in what I was wearing. In any case, he was convinced that we wouldn’t be spending much time there anyway. Believing that the girls from next door were planning something more private for us lads, we all found the excitement almost too much to bear…almost.
For the rest of the day we didn’t see, or hear anything from the girls next door. Whenever one of my guys tried to peak in, he was told in no uncertain terms to piss off and was chased away unceremoniously. Something was cooking, and I had a feeling it was going to taste good.
At Yates that evening, my boys had almost reached fever pitch, and were more than eager to find out what all the secrecy was about. We had arrived, dripping saliva like a hungry pack of wolves, as early as fashionably acceptable and spent our time trying hard, though not very successfully, to look nonchalant. The popular pub was filling up quickly with locals celebrating the end to their working week, most of whom were dressed to impress. Because of this, and the fact that we were mostly wearing our work clothes, we went largly unnoticed… Not that I minded, Yates wasn’t a place I would have found myself normally.
I was busy scanning the crowd, searching for the now familiar face of Christine. If im to be honest, even I was feeling a tad bit nervous. In all my years, I had never been led on like this and found myself not being able to wait for the eventual outcome. I looked at Robert, who was wringing his hands nervously, and asked if he was ok.
Robert: im good, man.
Me: you sure? You look like you’re gonna have a baby!
Robert: look, im not trying to sound eager or anything… But I can’t fucking wait!
I smiled and looked at the other three blokes who came with us. Each had already started drinking heavily, and were in a merry state within half an hour of us being there… I guess we were as ready as we were ever going to be.
The evening slowly wore on. I looked a my watch, and then at the large station clock on the wall behind the bar. I was about to reach for my pint, when I was kicked sharply in the shin by Robert, who also alerted the others with a strained, high pitched, “oi, lads!” immediately everyone, sadly including myself, struck our best ‘model’ poses, trying very hard to look as though we didn’t notice the small army of women making their way towards us… They had arrived.
As they walked in our direction, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. Both men and women alike threw them stares of amazement and jealousy, as they stood to the side, fighting for positions so they could get a better look. The girls carried on, seemingly undaunted, towards their targets… Us (yay!) My mouth was catching flies as I took in the details of their choice of outfits for the evening. They must have almost literally dressed themselves using the clothes available in their store!
Christine led the troops, wearing a short, black, PVC nurses outfit, which didn’t seem to have been built to accommodate her more than ample busom. She also had on a pair of black fishnet hold-up stockings, just visible beneath a pair of over the knee, impossibly high heeled, Demonia, fuck-me boots. Her tattoo was partly visible, though not uncovered enough to make it out properly… Come to think of it, I believe this was the first time I had really noticed it, and it definitely poked my curiosity… She was followed closely by her deputy, Anji, who seemed to only have eyes for Robert. She was wearing an all in one cat suit, complete with cat ears and a tail… Robert actually dropped his pint on the bar, beer spilling everywhere.
Robert: …fuck me… Please
Me: …
The other generic girls were all dressed in assorted fantasy outfits, with varying degrees of success. I did think though that they, much like my boys, were only there to make up the numbers anyway. For me, Christine and I were the main attraction, and I would have quite happily paid to see it.
My mouth was an open bear trap by the time Christine had reached me. She held out her arms, hugged me and whispered, “I hope it was worth the wait?” before kissing me flirtingly on the lips. She stood back and gave me a twirl, letting me see her from every angle… I was pleased.
My small band of horny men were drawing envious glaces from the other, better dressed and in most cases better looking guys (no homo) in the packed pub. I imagined they were wondering just how a group of, what they would assume to be, gamer geeks (some locals would have recognised us from Gamestaion) could pull women as interesting as those in Anne Summers. Of course I didn’t really care what anyone else thought, nor did I give it much attention myself. I had the undivided attention of a woman 13 years my senior… And things were starting to look promising.
Part 2
It wasn’t long before our groups began to break up, with my guys and Christine’s girls paring off to other locations. Soon, it was just Robert, Anji, Christine and myself.
Christine: so, have you planned what we’re doing yet?
Me: …
Stupidly, even to this point, I had just assumed that tonight was going to be about a little bit of fun and hadn?t actually thought that I was going to get any action. I cursed myself for my lack of forsight and hastily suggested that we head back to the least comfortable of places… My car. Thankfully, it seemed that Christine had planned better than me. She smiled as she told me that she knew I wasn’t going to be prepared, and that she had borrowed a friend’s flat for the weekend, some bird who had gone on a short trip, just outside the town centre… As you can imagine, it wasn’t long before we were making our way there, stumbling over each other in our haste, leaving Robert and Anji by themselves.
Back at the flat we quickly got down to business, biting, scratching and ripping away at clothes until, that is, I managed to get her bra off to reveal her impressive breasts… And a man’s face. I just stood there dumbstruck, staring at her tattoo.
Christine: (breathless) are you alright, my lover?
Me: yeah… Groovy… (pointing at her tit) aint that… Gary Newman? (do a wiki search if you don’t know who he is)
Christine: …oh… I guess I should explain that, shouldn’t I?
Me: nah, its no bother… Its just a bit of a shock, that’s all.
Christine: I’ve ruined it haven’t I?
Me: no, honestly. Its all good!
We took a break and sat down on the nearby sofa. I put my arm around her as she proceeded to tell me about her tattoo, and how she came about it.
Apparently, in the early 80s, she was a huge Gary Newman fan and eventual groupie. She followed him all over the country, got to know him personally and became a regular at his backstage parties. They even had a brief relationship of sorts, with Gary eventually meeting her parents! It wasn’t long though that the requirements of fame needed him to take his act abroad to tour the States, and other countries, leaving Christine behind… She never saw, or heard from him again.
She told me that in a fit of silly teenage romanticism, she got his image tattooed above her heart, so that the world could know her love for the man… Yeah, I know. Needless to say that some 20 odd years on, she regretted her decision, as laser surgery to get it removed would undoubtedly leave her scarred.
I listened to her story, almost gobsmacked that she had had a relationship with someone so famous. When she was done, she simply said, “Now can we please get on with this? You’ve had me gagging for it all week!” So, not being a man to pass up a perfectly good chance without good reason, I went back to the job at hand for great justice. This was to be my second ever threesome: Christine, myself…and Gary Newman.
The next day, a bright and sunny Saturday, both shops opened late. Christine and I turned up together, sore and hobbling like pensioners, but giggling like love struck teenagers. We made a promise to have a ‘manager’s meeting’ at lunch and then parted company to open our respective stores.
As the morning wore on, the other guys that had been out with us slowly trickled into the store; all of them with big dumb grins on their faces, hinting at a successful night all round. I didn’t have a go at any of them, simply because I was guilty of being late myself for the same reasons. Robert, however, was nowhere to be seen. I just played it down, assuming that he and Anji were still out having fun somewhere. It wasn’t until just before midday, however, that he put in his appearance, looking rather sheepish.
Robert: can I have a word, sifu?
Me: sure mate, what’s up?
I led him into my office, where we both sat down and Robert started to tell me what was on his mind.
He went on to say that he and Anji, not having anywhere close by to go, and no money for a hotel, decided to make their way back to the store where they got busy on the very same counter I had just eaten my breakfast off!
I thought about this for a moment because, as a store manager, I was supposed to be shocked and appalled at his behaviour and immediately sack him for gross misconduct; but this is me we’re talking about here. I simply said, “Please. Tell me you lot didn’t drip on that counter…?” before bursting out laughing. It seemed that Robert had more to tell me, but I was so eager to fill him in on my night that I didn’t let him get a word in. It wasn’t long before we were both in hysterics…
Our merriment wasn’t to last long, however, as there was a knock on the already open office door. Standing there, with faces like death, were my area manager, Alan, and the head of Loss Prevention, Scott. I never liked either much as both of them were jobsworths, though Alan was more lenient, keen to spout company policy to those who don’t really care.
Scott, it seemed, had a personal vendetta against me. This probably had something to do with me shagging his kid sister, another store manager from Sheffield, at a recent business conference in his hotel room. He had come in, after we were done, as we were laying there in a drunken stupor… But that’s another story…
Alan could be cool, and was usually down to earth, but he had a tendency to flip and become Mr. Gamestation quickly and without warning. Surprisingly, he didn’t last long in the company after Blockbuster Entertainment bought us out. Shame really, he liked a laugh… Anyway
I looked up at them, not thinking anything about their surprise visit, assuming that it was just one of their routine drop-ins. I invited them in and asked them what brought them so far west. Alan was the first to speak.
Alan: well Sifu, I got paged by the alarm company last night
Me: (already knowing where this was going, but deciding to play dumb) …really…?
Alan: yes. Apparently the alarm was deactivated at midnight and then reactivated just over an hour later…
Me: …right…?
Scott: (obviously getting narked by my apparent stupidity) Someone with keys and an alarm code entered the building last night!
Alan: (putting his hand up to stop Scott speaking) …and since only the two of you have keys, were going to have to investigate.
Robert and I looked at each other.
Scott: as you well know, company policy states that no one is to enter the building after hours… Under ANY circumstances!
(You just had to love this guy’s passion, he was so intense!)
Robert and I looked at each other again. We both knew the rules, but generally chose to ignore them in day to day practice, simply because they didn’t usually make sense in every day situations… This one, however, was serious. I remember hoping, above all else, that they wouldn’t ask to view the CCTV footage, and I knew Robert was thinking the same. We both knew that if they didn’t, then we could most likely spin them some kind of half-believable yarn which they would have been happy with. However…
Scott: I trust you keep your CCTV switched on and running? Its company policy, you know?
Me: (feeling sick) …yeah…
Scott: good. Follow me gents.
He led us all to where the CCTV system was kept, in the back of the stock room, and went on to explain to Alan the virtues of having a real time digital CCTV centre over the old cassette based systems.
Scott: (blah, blah)…much harder to get rid of evidence, you see…? (blah, blah)
As he was droning on, in his monotonous northern accent, he found the entry he was looking for quickly, and set it to play from 23:58.
We all watched as two people came into view at the counter, the full colour picture was pretty clear and the lights were on, so it was easy to make out who they were. Alan turned to look at Robert, who was now a deep shade of beetroot, and then back at the monitor. The two people on the screen were kissing passionately. Then the one with the cat ears and tail, suddenly dropped to her knees and began fighting with the belt, button and fly of the man who was now slowly edging towards the door, Robert.
Scott was muttering something about never seeing anything like it in his life and was about to reach for a button to speed things up, when Alan told him to leave it. “I wanna see this! It looks good!” Alan looked back at Robert, who had now stopped making his way to the exit, and smiled… He fucking smiled! This was great! At this rate, the most Robert would get is a demotion for a couple of weeks before making it back to deputy again!
On screen, Robert had picked Anji up off the floor and now had her laying on her back on the counter, where he began to rip away at her crotch, creating a tear which went upto her navel. He yanked her knickers aside and hopped on top of her, pumping away for king and country.
Alan: fuck me, lad. You’re giving it some, aint ya?
Scott: this is terrible…terrible.
Alan: mate, don’t tell me you don’t like sex.
Scott: …well…
Alan: …enough of that then, eh?
Scott looked at me, and frowned. I simply gave him the People’s Eyebrow and went back to watching the monitor with interest. I cast a quick glance at Robert, giving him a reassuring smile. Things seemed to be going great.
On the counter, Robert had flipped Anji onto her knees, and was pulling her hair back so hard that if there was sound, im sure we would have heard her scream… Then, suddenly, at 00:40, it was over. Robert pulled himself out of Anji and they both hopped off the counter, leaving behind what looked like a puddle of mixed, shiny, love juice.
I gagged.
We watched them potter about for a while, talking about something, when robert disappeared. Alan wanted to know where, and so asked Scott if he could switch cameras. He did this, cycling though the five electronic eyes until he found Robert, arse hanging out, by the safe in my office. Then, unbelievably, he opened it and removed a wad of money! We all turned to look at the ‘now’ Robert, who was sat on a pile of PS2s with his head in his hands, motionless.
When we turned back to the screen, we saw him give Anji some of the cash, and pocket the rest, before turning out the lights and leaving the store arm in arm with her.
That was enough. My bosses definitely weren’t impressed, and the smug grin Scott once had just moments before, quickly reappeared.
Alan: you know what happens now, don’t you Robert?
Robert: yes… I know.
Scott: what about Sifu, we heard them talking about it. He KNEW what happened.
Alan: did you see him on screen?
Scott: …no.
Alan: did he steal money?
Scott: …no.
Alan: then why create more paperwork?
Scott gave me the evils as he pulled out his mobile phone to call the Police…
Robert simply looked at us and whimpered, “…but I was going to put it back,” before realising that our seniors were no longer listening.
The Police turned up at the store minutes later, as Alan and I were going through the safe’s contents, cross referencing them with Friday’s takings, to try and figure out just how much had been pinched… They came and took Robert away, like a criminal, and I was to never see him again… The thing is, he probably did have the best of intentions, but that’s what happens when your cock rules your head.
Outside the store, a crowd had gathered on both sides of the Police car as they were placing Robert inside. It was mainly made up of the Anne Summers girls, my Gamestation boys and a few other store holders, eager to know what had actually happened. I looked across the lawful barrier at Christine, who had her arms around a quiet, tearful, Anji. She returned my concerned stare and smiled apologetically, letting me know that she understood…
My days in Slough were numbered after that, with Scott gunning for me at every turn. Eventually, after another two months, I had to return to my original store in Chiswick…after Scott fabricated some tale about me abusing my privileges at Slough. I lost contact with Christine after that… Well, that’s not strictly true… I just couldn’t be bothered to carry on with a relationship that required so much travel time. I think she felt the same as she didn’t try to contact me either… That is until she got moved to Knightsbridge, in central London. It was never the same though and we soon fizzled out.
I never did find out the whole story with Robert and why he felt the need to take company money. I wouldn?t even begin to assume either, as im sure he had a good reason. I just hope he’s doing well… A criminal record is a bitch to shake off In this country.
Is there a moral here? Probably. Ill let you guys figure it out though, im done.
… Fin.
Wow. Awesome story dude. I thought for a second he was gonna get away with shagging that chick in the store, or at least that’s how it seemed!