So the "marriage counselor" calls me after "missing" our first appointment. I proceed to enlighten him on the real story, about us not being married and she was a casual fuck on the side when I was able to leave Atlanta. I will never forget the words spoken to me through that crackling telephone.
"Uh... We might be dealing with something I'm not equipped to handle."
Thanks for the tip champ.
She eventually found someone closer/bigger mark than me because after three weeks the phone calls stopped. There are times I think I should FB creep and see what that crazy bitch is up too. But for the life of me can't remember her name.
I wanna say Samantha. But I'm not sure that's not because every chick I've ever known named Samantha isn't bat-shit crazy. Even if that's right, still doesn't help with a last name though...
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