Sex and Crime: Oliver's Strange Journey

by Oliver Markus

  Donna had bought several different tasers. One shot 2 metal tips. And another was the kind that looks like an electric razor. But she decided to use the one that looked like a cattle prod to taser Gary.

  "Ready?" she asked him.

  "Hold on," I said. "Are you seriously gonna taser him? I gotta get my camera. I'm gonna tape this!" We all laughed.

  I had given up on trying to stop Donna from abusing Gary. In the beginning I felt really bad, when I saw the way she treated him. One time she had ordered a cheap couch from Walmart online, and told him to put it together in the front room. His trembling hands accidentally dropped it while he was in the middle of assembling it, and one of the legs snapped off.

  "You broke it! You are so useless," she screamed at him in front of me. "You're not even a real man!"

  Emasculating a disabled man like that was bad enough. But to do it right in front of me, her ex-husband, was just cruel. I felt so bad for him.

  Later that night we were all sitting in the living room, and when she talked to him like he was a piece of shit again, I told her she can't keep abusing him like that. She got all defensive and with a vicious, threatening tone in her voice she yelled at Gary: "Am I abusing you?!? Is that what you're telling people, you wimp?"

  "No, no, you're not," he said quietly, with a shaky voice.

  "Gary you need to stand up for yourself," I told him. I figured it was now or never. He had me as his backup right now, so this was his one chance to tell her to stop abusing him.

  But he didn't. He couldn't stand up to her. He was afraid of her. She could make his life a living hell, and he knew I would leave eventually, and then he'd be alone with her again.

  She had forgotten that I wasn't as easily pushed around as Gary was. So a few times, when I stayed in New York with them, she tried to start shit with me. For old times' sake, I guess.

  But I just yelled right back at her. I didn't need to put up with her shit anymore. Unlike Gary, I could leave any time I want, so I had no reason to back down and let her boss me around.

  I learned that she only enjoyed throwing tantrums and bossing people around with her hateful tirades, if she felt like she was in total control of the fight. If it started when she wanted it to, and it ended when she wanted it to.

  Once I figured that out, I took that sense of power away from her, by keeping the fight going for 5 more minutes, after she decided she had enough. Suddenly the end of the fight was not hers to control anymore, because even when she was bored of it, I continued to berate her. Now she no longer felt like the bully, but like the one who was being bullied. Once I figured that out, we got along pretty well most of the time, because I don't start fights, and she was scared to pick fights with me. Gary was a much easier target.

  Another time he was cooking. He did all the chores around the house, while she sat on the couch, playing Facebook games on her laptop, and issuing out orders. I guess he was taking too long or something, but suddenly the fact that he was cooking wasn't good enough. Nothing he did was ever good enough.

  He was standing in front of the stove. The kitchen was small, and she shoved him with her shoulder while passing him. "Get out of my way," she said.

  Then, when she passed him on her way back into the living room, she body-checked him with her shoulder again, with a little more force.

  She kept doing that a few times. Finally he mustered enough courage to stand up to her: "Stop shoving me!"

  "Or else what?" she asked with an arrogant, condescending look on her face. "What are you gonna do about it?"

  He decided to try to get physical. He slowly shuffled over to her, almost in slow motion, and tried to push her or wrestle her or something. But he was a featherweight with no body strength whatsoever. She took a step back and karate-kicked him in the stomach. I could not believe my eyes!

  I was just quietly sitting in the living room, watching the drama unfold, and when she lifted her leg and kicked him, I wished I had my camera, to tape this insanity. I bet it would have gotten millions of hits on YouTube!

  After kicking him, she mocked him and called him a wimp. Yupp, she bullied and kicked a cripple, and then laughed at him. Classy. And he continued to live with her after that, like nothing ever happened. It was just another normal day to him.

  Anyway, let's get back to the day when she tasered him:

  She turned on the cattle prod, stuck it against the skin on Gary's arm, and pulled the trigger. It crackled. There were blue sparks. She really tasered him! Holy fuck! What a crazy bitch! And I got it all on camera this time.

  And Gary just sat there. He didn't feel a thing. I guess his Parkinson's, or the medication he was taking for it, had dulled his senses so much, his nerve endings didn't even feel it when you tasered him.

  After staying with them for a few weeks, I flew to Europe. I visited my parents in Germany, and together we went on vacation in Spain for a month.

  Suddenly Patty called me. I hadn't talked to her in months, ever since she had tried to come to Florida uninvited, to spend another birthday with me.

  She told me that I was still on her mind all the time. Remember, I hadn't seen her in about 2 years, ever since she had spent those two sex-crazed weeks with me in Florida.

  Patty asked me how I had been and apologized for acting so crazy last year, when she texted hateful messages all night and then showed up in Florida the next day, even though I had told her not to. I told her I was in Spain right now.

  She said she would like us to give it another shot. She told me she made me a key to her apartment in Scranton, and we could be snowbirds, living in Scranton during the summer, and in Bonita Springs during the winter. I didn't really know what to say, without hurting her feelings. Moving in with her was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. She was just too damn nuts. She was worse than any of the drug addicts I had met.

  She said she had been thinking about her life a lot lately, and she wanted to make some changes, because she was miserable with the way things were. She wanted love in her life, but she couldn't seem to make any relationship work. So she decided to have a baby. A baby comes with built-in unconditional love, so Patty figured having a baby was going to fix her loveless life. She said she had thought about getting artificially inseminated, but then she decided she wants someone she really cares about to get her pregnant: me.

  I had not seen this woman in two years, and we had not left off on good terms at all, and here she was, calling me in Spain, asking me to put a baby inside her. What. The. Fuck?

  I told her I had to go and hung up on her. Then I blocked her number. Enough was enough.

  BROTHERLY LOVE AND SISTER WIVES

  "I think people should be free to engage in any sexual practices they choose; they should draw the line at goats though."

  Elton John

  After I got back from Spain, I still wasn't talking to Hussy anymore. I hung out with Haley, when she needed to get away from Palm Beach Boulevard for a while, or I hung out with Kayla, the quirky 20 year old math student.

  Kayla was living in Cape Coral with her boyfriend Alex, an appliance repairman, but she still wanted to hang out with me. I asked her if she wasn't worried about her boyfriend finding out about us having sex. "He knows," she said.

  "Huh? And he's ok with that?" I asked.

  "Well, no, not really. But I told him that the only way I'll be in a relationship with him is if he'll accept that I'll keep having sex with you," she replied.

  That was the craziest thing I had ever heard. How the hell is that a relationship? Did that guy have no pride? He's ok with his girl having sex with someone else? That's nuts. That would drive me insane. Then again, maybe he really didn't care about her. Maybe he was just using her for sex, and as long as he got what he wanted from her, he didn't really give a shit what she did on her own time.

  "Alright, I guess," I said. "As long as I'm not gonna end up getting shot by some jealous boyfriend."

  "Nah, don't worry," she said. "He's a pussy."
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br />   Kayla and I met up and had sex a bunch of times after that conversation. It was weird to know that I was fucking someone else's girlfriend, and he knew about it. Once again I felt like I was living in some kind of twisted porno.

  She often told me about what a jerk Alex was. He treated her like crap. He even left her alone on holidays, because he was embarrassed to introduce her to his family. She called me up crying on the 4th of July, because Alex had left her all alone again, while he went to a barbecue at his parents' house without her.

  I told her that Alex was a total douchebag, who obviously really didn't care about her, and that she deserved someone better.

  "I know, but I kinda love him," she said. Somehow the people I had met in Florida so far seemed to have a completely different idea of what the word "love" means, than I did.

  One day, when Kayla was hanging out at my place again, she asked me to bring her back to her house by the time Alex got off work. After we finished having sex, she called Alex and asked him where he was. He had been working in Naples, and now he was heading north on Route 41, towards Cape Coral.

  "Hey, wouldn't it be funny if we saw him on 41?" she asked with a grin on her face.

  Once we got in the car and we were heading north on 41 as well, she called Alex again and asked him where exactly he was. He was just a mile or so up the road from us.

  "Speed up!" she demanded, laughing. "Let's try to catch him. That would be so funny!" She really did have a strange sense of humor sometimes.

  "Uhmm, I'm not so sure about that," I said. "Knowing that I'm fucking his girlfriend is one thing. But actually seeing you and me in the car together might really upset him, because that's gonna make it real in his head, you know?"

  "Nah, he'll be fine. He'll think it's funny," she said.

  "Well, I guess you know him better than I do," I conceded.

  So we were speeding on 41, and we really did catch up with Alex. He was driving an old white pickup truck. Kayla told me to pass him. So I did. She rolled down the window, leaned out of the car and waved at Alex, stuck her tongue out, and screamed: "WOOOOOOO!" She was acting like she was on Girls Gone Wild.

  Alex was not amused. At first he gave her dirty looks, and then he completely ignored her, staring at the road in front of him.

  "He looks angry," she said.

  "Well, duh! You just rubbed in his face that we are fucking," I said.

  'What the hell made me think that this was a good idea?" she asked incredulously.

  "I don't know. But now he is driving right behind us. What's gonna happen when we get to your house? Is he gonna wanna fight me or something? I'm wearing flip flops. Those are not fighting shoes," I said, only half kidding.

  She didn't think this was funny at all anymore: "Oh fuck, he is sooo mad at me right now. What the fuck was I thinking?!"

  "I don't know. But seriously, what are we gonna do when we and Alex arrive at your house at the same time? If I'm gonna get into a street brawl, I'm gonna have to stop somewhere and get a sandwich first. I need my strength."

  She finally laughed again. Then she said: "Let's take a different route than him, so we don't get there at exactly the same time."

  By now the same kind of thoughts must have been going through Alex's mind, and suddenly he passed us and sped off, way over the speed limit.

  We stopped at a gas station and Kayla got some fake weed, to calm her nerves. When we arrived at Alex's house in Cape Coral, his truck was parked in the driveway. I gave her a hug and a kiss good bye and told her to call me, to let me know she was alright.

  A few hours later I still hadn't heard from her, so I texted her: "Are u ok?"

  "Yeah," she replied. "He was cursing me out when I walked in the house, but then he calmed down."

  A day or two later, Kayla called me. I didn't answer, so she left a voicemail. She was hysterically crying: "Oliver, please come get me. Alex and I had a huge fight. PLEASE! I have nobody else!"

  I tried to call her back as soon as I heard her message. She didn't answer and she didn't call me back. That was very unlike her. She always answered the phone when I called.

  A few weeks earlier, Kayla had told me that she met a girl at drug offender probation in Fort Myers, who was also from Sayville, the same small town on Long Island, New York, where Kayla grew up. Small world, huh? The other girl's name was Morgan.

  Morgan had also gotten arrested for drug-related charges, also ended up in jail for a few weeks, and now she was also on drug offender probation. Kayla and Morgan quickly became best friends, because they had so much in common. Kayla told me she wanted me to meet Morgan, and all of us to hang out together, because she was sure I would like Morgan, because she also had a weird sense of humor.

  When Kayla didn't call me back after leaving that message, I decided to text Morgan and ask her if she knew what happened. Morgan replied that Kayla and Alex got into a big fight, and he called the cops on her, and now Kayla was in jail for violating her probation. Morgan and I agreed to let each other know as soon as either one of us heard anything from Kayla.

  Morgan said Kayla told her a lot about me. I asked her what exactly. She said Kayla called me her sugar daddy, and that she said I'm a really nice guy. I was flattered, even though I hated that she called me that word. Morgan also said that Kayla told her I have a big dick. And she joked she'd like to see it for herself, and that she'd love to have a sugar daddy like me, too. I was gonna find out soon that she wasn't joking after all.

  Later that day, Kayla called me from jail and explained what happened. She was sleeping, while Alex was talking about her to someone else on the phone. He called her a whore and a piece of shit. Then he started screaming at her to get the fuck out of his house, and she woke up while he was throwing her things out into the street. She told him: "Fine, I'll leave. I'll ask Oliver to pick me up."

  That made Alex even more angry, and he blocked her path to the door and started hitting her. Kayla was about a foot taller than Alex. She defended herself and put up a pretty good fight. She ended up pinning Alex against the wall, with her elbow against his throat. Then she bit him. He called the cops, and told them she was beating him up. When the cops came, they arrested her, not him, even though she had just been defending herself. How fucked up is that?

  After our conversation, I called Morgan to let her know what Kayla had just told me.

  Kayla called me from jail every day. She told me I had been right about Alex and that she wished she had listened to me when I told her to leave that douchebag. Then she told me she loved me, and she started acting like I was her boyfriend.

  I found out later that that's what girls do when they're in jail. They cling to someone on the outside and think they're madly in love with that person. Or they pretend to be, to get money out of them.

  But at that point, when she started calling me from jail and told me she loved me, I had no idea that I shouldn't put too much stock in that. I was flattered that she felt that way about me. I didn't really love her, but I liked her, so I figured, what the hell, I guess I might as well be her boyfriend. We were already having sex anyway, and it's not like I really had anything else going on right now. I still wasn't talking to Hussy, Haley was just too badly on crack to be girlfriend material, and Crystal was still in a relationship with her much younger boyfriend Jerry, even though they were having problems, because she caught him cheating on her a few times, and he suspected that she was cheating on him, too.

  So, suddenly I had a girlfriend in jail. Pretty bizarre. If someone had told me a few years ago that I would hang out with drug addicts, or know someone in jail, never mind date someone in jail, I would have told them they're crazy.

  The four most important things when you're in jail are:

  1) getting visitors