Items of Note

"Sure Jesus could restore my physical and spiritual virginity, especially if I lost it to some rapist, but who wants that? I'm saving myself for marriage, and I'll use force if necessary." -Hilary Faye

Monday, July 18, 2005

A story for you.

So this one time I think I dated a terrorist. Seriously.

He made me call him Abe but that was not the name on his license. He was from Lebanon and owned/flew planes and owned several gas stations over the course of the 4 years we ‘dated’ on and off. He lived a very extravagant lifestyle – a new luxury car every year, professionally decorated apartment, unlimited supply of Ecstasy- always paid cash for everything.

He looked like a smaller version of Vin Diesel. Very hot. Had the accent thing going on too. Mmmmmmmm...... the problem was I was never ever to ask him about work or anything personal for that matter. Never.

Every aspect of our relationship was on his terms – he called me, I didn’t call him. Pretty fucking degrading now that I think about the way things were, but I was young and foolish. I have only taken Ecstasy with him, and one time I thought I took too much and he refused to take me to the hospital.

He would periodically take me to his house and there would be some random guy sleeping on his couch – I was not allowed to speak to them, he made sure of that. He always told me they were flight students who had just arrived to America that were looking for a place to live.

There was a period of time when I did not hear from him for about six months (which wasn't terribly odd), and then one day he called me at work and asked if I would come pick him up in some random city. I did, of course, and he emerged from a gas station with a single black bag that contained all of his worldly possessions and a lame story about getting ripped off. He asked me to borrow money for a bus ticket and the next day I watched him board a bus and head on his way to San Francisco to start a new life.

Fast forward two months later and I get a call from him – he’s back in town and wants me to come see him. Once again he has a luxury apartment and a fat daddy Lexus and is ready to party again. He never said a word about San Francisco other than it was a really long bus ride and was beautiful. He then tells me that he needs to stay in the country and he wants to get married – on paper only of course. There was $50,000 in it for my trouble, all I had to do was go to the attorney with him.

At that point I caught on that things were really, really wrong. I told him I would think about it and went home.

That conversation happened in August 2001. I never heard from him again.

So that’s my story – I never quite knew what to think about all of that. So he is now known as “terrorist boy” to all of my friends.

The odd thing is I still think about him all the time.

13 Comments:

At 4:19 PM, Blogger Girl With An Alibi said...

Wow that reminds me of that email that was circulating after 9/11 about the girl who dated a Middle Eastern guy who told her not to fly on 9/11. Hmmm... was that mystery girl PrincessSteph?.... Will Steph be the next "Deep Throat" to come out of the closet?...

Wow there are so many levels to that last sentence. In any case, inquiring minds want to know.

 
At 4:19 PM, Blogger yournamehere said...

Of course you still think of him because of the whole "bad boy" thing. Hitler had all kinds of women, and every one of them thought they could "change" him.
"When Adolph's with me, won't be no more of this genocide talk, no sir."

 
At 7:33 PM, Blogger katarina said...

That's really scarey. Would you have done it had he called you again?

Todd, you slay me.

Steph, the next Deep Throat. Mwahaha

 
At 8:42 PM, Blogger ago-go said...

did you at least get to keep the $50,000? and i have a feeling that steph's been the next deep throat for a while.

 
At 9:26 PM, Blogger A. Estella Sassypants said...

Holy shit. You are now officially the queen of all things odd and interesting.

 
At 6:01 AM, Blogger JJ said...

Did you ever mention this to the FBI?

 
At 6:41 AM, Blogger Princess Steph said...

gwaa- nope- not me. Although I probably do deserve the Deep Throat title!! Everybody's gotta have a skill!

your- ugggg.... let's hope I am wrong.

Katarina- no, I had talked it over with Mom and we decided it was a no-go.

go-go- I wish I had gotten the money!! Oh the shoes I would own...

Andish- why o why must it be me?

jj- I never did due to the fact that I simply didn't have enough information to be helpful.

Who knows, maybe I will try to look up the name I saw on his license.... It is VERY common though.

 
At 10:43 AM, Anonymous tanya said...

Wow - this lasted for four years? Why is it that relationships with the wrong ones last the longest :0)

 
At 10:50 AM, Blogger Princess Steph said...

yeah- it was so off and on that it really didn't amount to much at all.

He would always look at me in the middle of a passionate session and try to make me swear that I would always fuck him, even when we were married to other people.

Controll issues? I'd say so.

 
At 12:54 PM, Blogger Polly Prissy-Pants said...

Terrorist - yah think? "Theeeere's your sign!"

 
At 5:36 AM, Blogger AMS said...

Thats definately a story NOT to use on future dates!!!

 
At 12:58 PM, Blogger Princess Steph said...

ams- agreed!

 
At 11:39 PM, Blogger Melliferous Pants said...

Wow!

I once dated a guy who was in the mob. He had some shady import-export-straight-outta-Italy business. Oh, it’s been ages since I’ve thought about the Italian Stallion. He was a lot of fun, but it was very brief....nothing long enough to warrant a creepy post, yikes!

 

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