Categories > Original > Drama
Goliath Stone: The Story of David
0 ReviewsONESHOT: A sarcastic scene of bitter honesty. I want as many people as possible to read this, and review with whatever comes to mind. You got shit? Fling it.
1: For David Q.
That David, what an ass.
It was actually the first thought that came to my mind when I met him. Why would I think such a curse word about someone I had never met before? Beats me. I just knew, from the moment he sent an instant message to me, this guy was going to be trouble. It wasn't like he was being mean or anything. In fact, his first words to me were basically a compliment for responding to him in the main training room when no one else did. I'm not the type to judge right away, but with this guy, I did.
His demeanor was charming, but I had seen his kind before. He described himself as nothing less than Mr. Perfect, the looks, the body, the height and the physique, using all the words that every girl wants to hear, sounding like he copied and pasted from a matchmaker website. I knew it wasn't true, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Guys always lie when they're trying to impress a girl. I was not impressed, but I was bored and it felt like a good day to chat.
It was his idea to use webcam. I accepted because he was joking about being at his computer with no pants on, but I didn't seriously think he was going to try and show me the joke for real. I didn't see anything, and I'm glad because I didn't want to. From what I saw of him on the webcam, he was NOT what he described. Not in any way at all. Again, I figured he was just vouching for approval. I felt sorry for the guy, he probably had few friends and even fewer girlfriends. At least, he kept referring to a girlfriend, whom I knew right away didn't exist, even after he showed me a picture of her. How did I know she wasn't real? He described her as the wonder of his life, his reason for living, the cheese to his macaroni, then he told me he asked her to marry him and she wouldn't do it. He claimed it was because she had low self-esteem and she didn't think he loved her. I knew what it was like to have low self-esteem, and if someone wanted to marry me when I felt that way years ago, I would've jumped at the chance, not turned them down...unless there was something seriously wrong with the person asking me.
He played the low self-esteem card a lot. In fact, he played it like someone who probably studied self-help books not for help, but for clues on how to manipulate people. He said he knew exactly who I was from the start, and a red flag went up only a couple hours after we started talking, when he mentioned I was just like his girlfriend. Guys don't compare you to their former girlfriend unless they WANT you to be like their former girlfriend. What I didn't expect was how much he wanted that, and how far he would go to make me into the former girl.
The second day was easy going. He apologized for the webcam scheme, pretended that all was well, and even commented that he told his girlfriend about me and she thought I was cool. I knew that was a lie. Why? Because when have you heard a girl say that her hubby was chatting with another girl online and she was cool with that? His game was easy to spot. He was trying to make his idea of me okay, not for his girlfriend, whom I thought had probably long since left him and was no longer even in the picture, but for me, whom he thought was an easy target and a replacement for his emotional withdraw.
His stories were confusing, or at least he thought they were. He was seriously laying out the bullshit to get me to believe he was a poor, terrorized, beaten little boy of a man who needed someone to love him because he had been through such a hard life. I had been through enough experiences to know these types. They aren't as hardened and tortured as they say they are. They do this to get the attention of people like me, or people like he thought I was, to protect him, to save him, to fix him, so he could use me up and spit me out whenever it pleased him to do so. I figured out a long time ago that these kinds of people don't really care, nor do they want someone to care for them. They want a slave, a concubine, a placemat for their stomping ground and a body to expel their jaded fantasies upon. They don't care who I am. How could they if they don't even see me as a person, but as an extension of their fantasy?
I admit, I didn't get away as fast as I should have. I was curious to know what he would come up with next. I'm not the type that usually gets bored for long periods of time, but I was this time, and it was either listen to his lies or listen to hours of something else. It was most entertaining to spot him in the lie, ask a seemingly innocent question, and see how he would try to gather himself.
“I thought you said you told her about me?”
“I did...she forgot...she has a brain tumor...she's dying...I love her and want to be with her...I'm going to find a way to save her...if anything happens to her I don't know what I would do...”
Then, in the next sentence, “But if something does...there's always you and me.”
Hmm...strange that a man could love a woman so much, he would be willing to find a way to cure cancer to save her, yet in the same breath, he's already got a new girl lined up just in case all else fails.
Day three dragged on. I was tired, and growing bored of his schemes. His stories were endless, and I knew that he was sure he had gotten to me. He began telling me about his ideas, his “inventions,” as it were, of incomprehensible prototypes that would change the world, all easily accessible to him and hidden in his backyard or in the recesses of his mind until the time was right to blow the minds of everyone else by unleashing his genius.
Yeah. Right.
It was so bogus, I had to stifle my laughter while I replied to him. I made my words into what he wanted to hear, knowing full well that people like him wouldn't listen if I told him the truth: I thought he was a liar and mentally unstable, to put it nicely.
“Blah, blah, blah. Bogus, bogus, bogus...”
“Wow. Amazing.”
“Blah, blah, blah, blah. You're so much like my girlfriend. Blah, blah.”
“Yeah, she must be cool.”
“She is. I should come to your doorstep.”
Time for a moment of: WTF?!
He decided to take the mysterious charm thing a step further, and instill fear in me by doing a background check on me with one of those online websites that you pay money for. He pulled up former addresses, sibling names, and some other tid bits that no one could know about me from a basic search engine.
I laughed it off. This guy wasn't frightening. He wasn't even getting his stories to stick with me, so what's up with the background check? Most of the information wasn't even right anyway. It's amazing how even a background check site could have so many spelling errors and missing numbers. The only thing he got right was my email and my FP username, but those were two public things I gave to him earlier.
He probably thought the check would make me afraid of him. He knows a lot about me, now I have to stay with him or he might do something crazy. You think I'm afraid of crazy? Pa-leeze! Most of my family is bat-shit, over the river, down the shoot and into the world of Upside Down crazy! If he chose to come and get me, I had told plenty of people about him and his actions, and he would be investigated as the number one suspect. If he was smart, he would back the hell off.
Day four came after a two day rest period without talking to him. A pleasant vacation, which made me consider pulling the plug on day four. He was becoming a nuisance, and he wasn't filling the boredom factor anymore. His stories were too easy to figure out, his personality was not mindlessly entertaining like before, and in fact, he was being a bit of an asshole.
“Do you trust me?”
Um...I've known you four days.
I guess he didn't get the internal memo that like and love are emotions felt after connections are made and people spend time with one another. Four days of online messaging, even with blurry webcam and fake stories, are not even grounds to promote likeness, but apparently to him, we were in love...or lust...or whatever the hell else he came up with.
I admit, I told him something personal on day four, but I lied and told him I never told it to anyone, so boo on me. I also mentioned to him about a neurological disorder I was going through, and he took his dear sweet time to possibly contemplate remorse for what he was doing to me, but chose to continue his facade anyway, so boo hiss on him.
“I have to know that you trust me.”
Yeah, I don't.
Of course, I again told him what he wanted to hear. I was curious to know where he was going with this.
“Blah, blah, blah, using you, using you, using you, trying to sound confusing so you will be snagged into my world of confusion and then you'll be so confused, you'll never escape my web of lies and I can bend you to my will, blah, blah.”
A bell went off in my head. “Oh yeah, I've heard this before!”
“Blah, blah, master plans, blah, blah, petty games, blah blah, know how to manipulate, blah blah, don't want to talk about it, blah blah, just forget it...”
Huh. Okay.
“WAIT! DON'T FORGET IT! I STILL HAVE STUFF TO LIE TO YOU ABOUT!”
Yawn. Well go on, then.
“Blah, blah, super genius ideas, blah blah, I'm so smart and everyone else is dumb and I have a secret stash of amazing things that will change the world, blah, blah, I'm testing you using my awesome super ultra intelligence of greatness so you'll pay attention to me and I can send you my plans and you can hide them away and destroy them when the baddies in black suits come and kill me off and try to destroy my plans...”
Wait...isn't this the storyline to the movie Conspiracy Theory?
“I had to test your loyalty.”
Pfft. I've known you four days. What loyalty?
“I wanted to make sure your intentions were good.”
Um...what intentions?
So the conversation between us ended when he offered to email me some super genius and super secret paperwork and I politely declined, giving him some bullshit statement about how I couldn't do that because I might let him down and that would devastate me. Truth was, I didn't care about his super genius work any more than I believed it was even real, and I didn't want his crap filling up my inbox.
I don't like spam, even if it's the super genius kind.
He tried to play nice again, switching between biting sarcasm and total assness to, “I like you but I don't know what to do with you,” to, “I love my girlfriend but I'm thinking about having sex with you instead,” to, “Blah, blah, blah, I'm pretending to listen to you but I really don't care, blah, blah, listen to my life so you think you know who I am but it's all a fabrication, blah, blah.”
I broke for lunch. I was tired of this snooze fest, and his bitchiness. I already had this situation figured out: he misses his (probably gone since like, years ago) girlfriend, so he gets a job where he can play with the minds of people online, he pinpoints me because I'm helpful and I responded to his comments, he asks a few questions about me, I answer them somewhat honestly, he decides I'm similar enough to be like his former girlfriend, and with no social life and all time to play with himself, voila! Poof! Presto! I become the image of his former girlfriend, I'm the fantasy of his desperate need for attention, and I'm going to be his cyber-lover and live happily ever after because I've fallen for his charms in four days!
The moral of the story? Even if you're hiding behind a computer screen, I can still smell your shit, and yes, it stinks. Piss the fuck off, David. I think you're an ass, and I don't love you.
That David, what an ass.
It was actually the first thought that came to my mind when I met him. Why would I think such a curse word about someone I had never met before? Beats me. I just knew, from the moment he sent an instant message to me, this guy was going to be trouble. It wasn't like he was being mean or anything. In fact, his first words to me were basically a compliment for responding to him in the main training room when no one else did. I'm not the type to judge right away, but with this guy, I did.
His demeanor was charming, but I had seen his kind before. He described himself as nothing less than Mr. Perfect, the looks, the body, the height and the physique, using all the words that every girl wants to hear, sounding like he copied and pasted from a matchmaker website. I knew it wasn't true, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Guys always lie when they're trying to impress a girl. I was not impressed, but I was bored and it felt like a good day to chat.
It was his idea to use webcam. I accepted because he was joking about being at his computer with no pants on, but I didn't seriously think he was going to try and show me the joke for real. I didn't see anything, and I'm glad because I didn't want to. From what I saw of him on the webcam, he was NOT what he described. Not in any way at all. Again, I figured he was just vouching for approval. I felt sorry for the guy, he probably had few friends and even fewer girlfriends. At least, he kept referring to a girlfriend, whom I knew right away didn't exist, even after he showed me a picture of her. How did I know she wasn't real? He described her as the wonder of his life, his reason for living, the cheese to his macaroni, then he told me he asked her to marry him and she wouldn't do it. He claimed it was because she had low self-esteem and she didn't think he loved her. I knew what it was like to have low self-esteem, and if someone wanted to marry me when I felt that way years ago, I would've jumped at the chance, not turned them down...unless there was something seriously wrong with the person asking me.
He played the low self-esteem card a lot. In fact, he played it like someone who probably studied self-help books not for help, but for clues on how to manipulate people. He said he knew exactly who I was from the start, and a red flag went up only a couple hours after we started talking, when he mentioned I was just like his girlfriend. Guys don't compare you to their former girlfriend unless they WANT you to be like their former girlfriend. What I didn't expect was how much he wanted that, and how far he would go to make me into the former girl.
The second day was easy going. He apologized for the webcam scheme, pretended that all was well, and even commented that he told his girlfriend about me and she thought I was cool. I knew that was a lie. Why? Because when have you heard a girl say that her hubby was chatting with another girl online and she was cool with that? His game was easy to spot. He was trying to make his idea of me okay, not for his girlfriend, whom I thought had probably long since left him and was no longer even in the picture, but for me, whom he thought was an easy target and a replacement for his emotional withdraw.
His stories were confusing, or at least he thought they were. He was seriously laying out the bullshit to get me to believe he was a poor, terrorized, beaten little boy of a man who needed someone to love him because he had been through such a hard life. I had been through enough experiences to know these types. They aren't as hardened and tortured as they say they are. They do this to get the attention of people like me, or people like he thought I was, to protect him, to save him, to fix him, so he could use me up and spit me out whenever it pleased him to do so. I figured out a long time ago that these kinds of people don't really care, nor do they want someone to care for them. They want a slave, a concubine, a placemat for their stomping ground and a body to expel their jaded fantasies upon. They don't care who I am. How could they if they don't even see me as a person, but as an extension of their fantasy?
I admit, I didn't get away as fast as I should have. I was curious to know what he would come up with next. I'm not the type that usually gets bored for long periods of time, but I was this time, and it was either listen to his lies or listen to hours of something else. It was most entertaining to spot him in the lie, ask a seemingly innocent question, and see how he would try to gather himself.
“I thought you said you told her about me?”
“I did...she forgot...she has a brain tumor...she's dying...I love her and want to be with her...I'm going to find a way to save her...if anything happens to her I don't know what I would do...”
Then, in the next sentence, “But if something does...there's always you and me.”
Hmm...strange that a man could love a woman so much, he would be willing to find a way to cure cancer to save her, yet in the same breath, he's already got a new girl lined up just in case all else fails.
Day three dragged on. I was tired, and growing bored of his schemes. His stories were endless, and I knew that he was sure he had gotten to me. He began telling me about his ideas, his “inventions,” as it were, of incomprehensible prototypes that would change the world, all easily accessible to him and hidden in his backyard or in the recesses of his mind until the time was right to blow the minds of everyone else by unleashing his genius.
Yeah. Right.
It was so bogus, I had to stifle my laughter while I replied to him. I made my words into what he wanted to hear, knowing full well that people like him wouldn't listen if I told him the truth: I thought he was a liar and mentally unstable, to put it nicely.
“Blah, blah, blah. Bogus, bogus, bogus...”
“Wow. Amazing.”
“Blah, blah, blah, blah. You're so much like my girlfriend. Blah, blah.”
“Yeah, she must be cool.”
“She is. I should come to your doorstep.”
Time for a moment of: WTF?!
He decided to take the mysterious charm thing a step further, and instill fear in me by doing a background check on me with one of those online websites that you pay money for. He pulled up former addresses, sibling names, and some other tid bits that no one could know about me from a basic search engine.
I laughed it off. This guy wasn't frightening. He wasn't even getting his stories to stick with me, so what's up with the background check? Most of the information wasn't even right anyway. It's amazing how even a background check site could have so many spelling errors and missing numbers. The only thing he got right was my email and my FP username, but those were two public things I gave to him earlier.
He probably thought the check would make me afraid of him. He knows a lot about me, now I have to stay with him or he might do something crazy. You think I'm afraid of crazy? Pa-leeze! Most of my family is bat-shit, over the river, down the shoot and into the world of Upside Down crazy! If he chose to come and get me, I had told plenty of people about him and his actions, and he would be investigated as the number one suspect. If he was smart, he would back the hell off.
Day four came after a two day rest period without talking to him. A pleasant vacation, which made me consider pulling the plug on day four. He was becoming a nuisance, and he wasn't filling the boredom factor anymore. His stories were too easy to figure out, his personality was not mindlessly entertaining like before, and in fact, he was being a bit of an asshole.
“Do you trust me?”
Um...I've known you four days.
I guess he didn't get the internal memo that like and love are emotions felt after connections are made and people spend time with one another. Four days of online messaging, even with blurry webcam and fake stories, are not even grounds to promote likeness, but apparently to him, we were in love...or lust...or whatever the hell else he came up with.
I admit, I told him something personal on day four, but I lied and told him I never told it to anyone, so boo on me. I also mentioned to him about a neurological disorder I was going through, and he took his dear sweet time to possibly contemplate remorse for what he was doing to me, but chose to continue his facade anyway, so boo hiss on him.
“I have to know that you trust me.”
Yeah, I don't.
Of course, I again told him what he wanted to hear. I was curious to know where he was going with this.
“Blah, blah, blah, using you, using you, using you, trying to sound confusing so you will be snagged into my world of confusion and then you'll be so confused, you'll never escape my web of lies and I can bend you to my will, blah, blah.”
A bell went off in my head. “Oh yeah, I've heard this before!”
“Blah, blah, master plans, blah, blah, petty games, blah blah, know how to manipulate, blah blah, don't want to talk about it, blah blah, just forget it...”
Huh. Okay.
“WAIT! DON'T FORGET IT! I STILL HAVE STUFF TO LIE TO YOU ABOUT!”
Yawn. Well go on, then.
“Blah, blah, super genius ideas, blah blah, I'm so smart and everyone else is dumb and I have a secret stash of amazing things that will change the world, blah, blah, I'm testing you using my awesome super ultra intelligence of greatness so you'll pay attention to me and I can send you my plans and you can hide them away and destroy them when the baddies in black suits come and kill me off and try to destroy my plans...”
Wait...isn't this the storyline to the movie Conspiracy Theory?
“I had to test your loyalty.”
Pfft. I've known you four days. What loyalty?
“I wanted to make sure your intentions were good.”
Um...what intentions?
So the conversation between us ended when he offered to email me some super genius and super secret paperwork and I politely declined, giving him some bullshit statement about how I couldn't do that because I might let him down and that would devastate me. Truth was, I didn't care about his super genius work any more than I believed it was even real, and I didn't want his crap filling up my inbox.
I don't like spam, even if it's the super genius kind.
He tried to play nice again, switching between biting sarcasm and total assness to, “I like you but I don't know what to do with you,” to, “I love my girlfriend but I'm thinking about having sex with you instead,” to, “Blah, blah, blah, I'm pretending to listen to you but I really don't care, blah, blah, listen to my life so you think you know who I am but it's all a fabrication, blah, blah.”
I broke for lunch. I was tired of this snooze fest, and his bitchiness. I already had this situation figured out: he misses his (probably gone since like, years ago) girlfriend, so he gets a job where he can play with the minds of people online, he pinpoints me because I'm helpful and I responded to his comments, he asks a few questions about me, I answer them somewhat honestly, he decides I'm similar enough to be like his former girlfriend, and with no social life and all time to play with himself, voila! Poof! Presto! I become the image of his former girlfriend, I'm the fantasy of his desperate need for attention, and I'm going to be his cyber-lover and live happily ever after because I've fallen for his charms in four days!
The moral of the story? Even if you're hiding behind a computer screen, I can still smell your shit, and yes, it stinks. Piss the fuck off, David. I think you're an ass, and I don't love you.
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