House Move.
It’s a pain isn’t it?
I remember once.
I was 21. My lease had run out and, being 21, I hadn’t arranged anything else.
Pants.
A guy at work was called Vaughn. But insisted upon spelling it ‘Voign’.
Bit odd. Whatever.
‘I’ve got a spare room at my place.’ He cheerfully said.
Perfect. Somewhere to live, not much money. Great.
We later discovered -at work- that according to his National Insurance details his name was Gary.
Again. Whatever.
I go to see his house. And his spare room.
‘I must warn you,’ he says, before he opens the door of the spare room, ‘I’ve been doing some extra work from home so it won’t look like this when you move in.’
He opens the door.
I am faced with a very large poster.
Of a VERY LARGE MAN.
Who appears to have shares in Baby Oil due to the amount on him.
WHO HAS A VERY LARGE COCK.
That seems to be the focal point of this portrait.
I can only assume that he was in a very warm location when the photograph was taken. Or that he was one of God’s favourite boys.
I am slightly taken aback.
Glancing around, I notice many other posters. There seems to be a common theme.
From what I can see, not only were these other photographs taken in a very WARM environment, they were also taken in a very stimulating one.
Me: Em.
V: What do you think about the room then?
I’m still trying to figure this out.
There are lots of scented candles around. And a little shelf with lots of bottles on it. They appear to be oils of some sort.
Me: Em.
I was a young man. That was a lot of big cocks – many of which were angry – to be confronting a gentleman of my tender years with.
V: Oh. Yeah. You know. I do a bit of ‘massage’ in the evenings. To make ends meet. You know. In here. But not when you’re around of course. If you moved in.
Me: Em.
V: So what do you think.
Me: Seriously?
V: Well. Yes.
Me: I’ve got some other places to look at. I’ll let you know.
He was fired the next week.
I remember once.
I was 21. My lease had run out and, being 21, I hadn’t arranged anything else.
Pants.
A guy at work was called Vaughn. But insisted upon spelling it ‘Voign’.
Bit odd. Whatever.
‘I’ve got a spare room at my place.’ He cheerfully said.
Perfect. Somewhere to live, not much money. Great.
We later discovered -at work- that according to his National Insurance details his name was Gary.
Again. Whatever.
I go to see his house. And his spare room.
‘I must warn you,’ he says, before he opens the door of the spare room, ‘I’ve been doing some extra work from home so it won’t look like this when you move in.’
He opens the door.
I am faced with a very large poster.
Of a VERY LARGE MAN.
Who appears to have shares in Baby Oil due to the amount on him.
WHO HAS A VERY LARGE COCK.
That seems to be the focal point of this portrait.
I can only assume that he was in a very warm location when the photograph was taken. Or that he was one of God’s favourite boys.
I am slightly taken aback.
Glancing around, I notice many other posters. There seems to be a common theme.
From what I can see, not only were these other photographs taken in a very WARM environment, they were also taken in a very stimulating one.
Me: Em.
V: What do you think about the room then?
I’m still trying to figure this out.
There are lots of scented candles around. And a little shelf with lots of bottles on it. They appear to be oils of some sort.
Me: Em.
I was a young man. That was a lot of big cocks – many of which were angry – to be confronting a gentleman of my tender years with.
V: Oh. Yeah. You know. I do a bit of ‘massage’ in the evenings. To make ends meet. You know. In here. But not when you’re around of course. If you moved in.
Me: Em.
V: So what do you think.
Me: Seriously?
V: Well. Yes.
Me: I’ve got some other places to look at. I’ll let you know.
He was fired the next week.
posted by Tired Dad at
9:05 pm
19 Comments:
I had ginormous stripey slugs inhabit a room I once rented,and I thought that was bad. I suppose the owner had hidden them whilst I viewed.
Couldn't Vaughan have done the same with the cocks?
nah missy m, I think Vaughan wanted our Dave to see them, don't you?
you fired him for being gay?
You have to admire his front. Why was he fired?
a 21 year old has the power to fire someone ?
you worked at Mdonalds?
I'm assuming you had nothing to do with his being fired; just met his end.
Missy: You would have thought it would have been the firs thing he did wouldn't you?
Tea: Who's Dave? Is that me?
Peach: I just worked there. I couldn't fire anyone.
Me: Credit card fraud as it happened. The multiple identity thing should have been a clue to the company really.
C: Welcome back. See above.
Clarissa: Fuck me what are the chances? The same MINUTE? You are officially stalking me.
Anyway, see above.
Sorry, I don't know why I thought your name was Dave. But, I still reckon he Wanted you to see them. Bit kinky, weren't it?
Damn it! I've moved 17 times and not once, never, has anyone provided large posters of cocks.
Once I was generously told a former tenant was leaving their cooker and that the smell of dead mouse had almost entirely gone - but cocks, no.
I'm even creeping myself out. Yuck!
Howdo Dave
An old landlord of mine had a hole in the wall through which he observed what occured in my little room.
As he reduced my rent for saying nowt - I found the hole and confronted him - I managed to perform with Randy Mandy from the chip shop for his delectation.
I feel rather guilty she never knew after reading this.
Strange.
Tea: With hindsight, I suspect you may be right in that he was looking for something more than a 'housemate'. Oh well.
Megan: I'd have preferred your scenario.
Clarissa: It's sort of nice, this sort of thing. *SORT OF*
Dinners: Glad you're still alive. Bit Norman Bates that, bit at least you did well out of it.
*Wondering which "sort of" is "*sort of*" ... the sort of nice or the sort of thing.
Seriously. Does The Mista know yo're flirting with an Internet Man?
Brilliant. I can't believe he was serious.
And I'd forgotten the angry term.
Sniggering...
'Angry' first heard in the quite good Body Heat with Kathleen Turner and That Other Guy and Him From Cheers I believe.
I'm gutted that this has never happened to me, as a straight girl I would have been unpacking as you spoke!
Perhaps we should swap lives.
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