Jessie volunteers me for more work, bitch

I had to make some radical changes once I moved in with Theo and Jessie.

Theo, still despondent, is basically a shut-in and plays World of Warcraft non-stop.

Jessie is going to class, sleeping with her professor and apparently some other guy with dreadlocks.

Swear to God, dreadlocks freak me out. They are especially bad on skinny white guys. It’s like his head is just coated with ropes of filth.

I eventually told her that dreadlocks couldn’t come over anymore.

Also, I’ve been doing some major yard work, but just in the front. Three different neighbors have personally come over and thanked me for fixing the place up. In fact, I’ve gotten fairly chummy with a few of them.

Last week I’m sitting at home. The door bell rings. Jessie answers the door. I’m not paying attention (big fucking mistake).

The door closes. Jessie then tells me:

“Hey, the guy across the street needs you to watch his kids for a couple of hours tonight. He’s got a business dinner and his wife is out of town. I’d told him you’d be ready at 6.”

“Wait, you did what?”

“You’re baby sitting for real now,” she said, smirking.

“We can’t have kids over here with Smokey the Bear half naked playing on the computer.”

“I know. That’s why you’re going over there.”

Seriously, I hate kids and I don’t even know this guy’s name. I kept notes on my nanny duties:

1) The kids just fought over who gets to give me one of daddy’s beers.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll drink two. You guys can take turns getting me beer.”

Now they are crying cause there was only one left. So off to the convenience store we go. Apparently, when you are 4 and 8 it’s pretty cool to get to ride in the front seat of a car.

2) The kids got hungry so I made them bowls of pretzels with BBQ sauce on top. They have now each had three bowls of what I tell them is “Cowboy Cereal.” I’m trying to finish this sixer of Natty Light tall boys as fast as I can.

3) The 8-year-old girl just told me that a bowl of pretzels coated with Stubbs BBQ sauce ain’t healthy. Says her teacher told her to always eat healthy. She’s got a picture of her teacher on the counter. The beast must weigh 250 pounds. She wants a salad. The boy wants his mom. I want… Taco Bell.

4) This Taco Bell keeps it classy with the cool sounds of Coldplay. I bet Gwyneth gets all hot ‘n bothered knowing her man’s muzac is rocking a Taco Bell

5) Cuz I’m aces at taking care of kids, I tell them we are eating inside the store. That way, when one of them spills their jumbo soda I can pretend not to notice. BOSS

6) Yep, the 4-year-old boy just spilled his entire drink on the floor. Now he keeps telling the elderly cashier to come mop up his Mountain Dew. I’ve also been told several times that mommy “never” lets them have Mountain Dew.

7) The beers are really kicking in now. I think I’m a little more than buzzing. Maybe the kids and I need to leave the car  here and walk home.

8) What the hell? You let yer 4-year-old boy go to the bathroom by himself and he comes out drinking some strange soda he found by the toilet. I’d take it away but that cup is filthy

9) I’m too drunk to walk home with the kids so I’m letting the girl drive. Kid has gotta learn sometime, right?

10) The dad is finally here. The kids are totally wired from all that soda and the boy has lettuce in his hair. I want to go home but Jessie let the damn dreadlocks guy in the house as soon as I left. Now I’m having to talk to the dad. Thank God he’s drunker than me.

Yah, before I left I made him pay for this:


“Woah, they ate all that?”

“No, some of it wound up on the floor.”

I still don’t know any of their names.

Yes, I Am Baby Sitting a 24-year-old

As a faithful reader will recall…

I was an unemployed. I got a job at  Byrd Services. I was hired to “tutor” the company president’s 24-year-old daughter, Jessie.

Basically, she’s hysterionic and hasn’t done much with her life. Her behaviour is starting to embarass my boss (especially the time she trenched the golf course at Houston’s River Oaks Country Club). If she graduates from the college she will gain access to a trust fund set up by her dead mother. Mr. Byrd hopes she will take this money, leave her pot smoking boyfriend Theo and move far away from Houston.

She starts her classes at the University of Houston in January.

But let’s be honest, a mind is like any other tool. It gets dull if you abuse it with drinking, drugs and laziness.

So I’ve been trying to get Jessie out of the house and thinking about life, the future and learning. This could all be in vain, but maybe if I prime the pump a little she will be ready to start learning again in 2012.

She doesn’t see it this way. She thinks I’m her man servant until January.

This has basically reduced me from “tutor” to “baby sitter”.

How bad has it been?

Over the last few weeks, a few incidents really stand out.

1) I took Jessie to the Museum of Fine Arts for private fund raiser an ex-girlfriend was hosting. There was wine. Jessie managed to drink most of it.

I didn’t realize how much she had (I showed up to get her with a solid bourbon buzz rolling) until I saw her standing leaning against the wall with a glass of red in her right hand and a glass of white in her left.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting drunk,” she slurred.

Jessie then berated an elderly lady over her choice of shoes.

“Class it up next time,” she said.

The poor thing was wearing orthotics and brace that, most likely, was due to a leg withered by polio.

I told Jessie we were leaving.

“About fucking time.”

We get out the door and she promptly barfed a gallon of wine all over the sidewalk.

2) I had Jessie take a computer class. She completed it. She then tells me, “When I was little and did something well my mom would give me a treat.”

“Like what?”

“Like going to the zoo. I want to go to the zoo.”

So I take Jessie to the zoo. She starts drinking at the zoo. She wants to spend all of her time feeding the ducks and drinking the wine-based margaritas. Eventually she wants to see some animals.

We are standing there looking at the elephants. A group of school kids comes over and, as little children do, start pushing in front of us to get a better view of the baby elephant.

Jessie doesn’t like this.

“What a bunch of brats.”

She then leans over to a group of girls and says, “Be extra nice to the baby elephant. He’s very sick. They are going to kill him tonight.”

The smiling faces instantly morphed into tears. They ran to their teacher and relay Jessie’s “insider information.”

I quickly dragged Jessie out.

3) It’s noon and Jessie is hungry. She makes me ride with her to Jack in the Box. We are going through the drive-thru.

Jessie orders her food. Then she changes her order.

The guy repeats it to her. She changes it again.

This happens at least 5 times.

We pull around to get the food and it’s not what Jessie wanted. It is, however, what she ordered. She wants it changed. The guy, being very patient, suggests she pulls around and comes inside and he can help her.

“It’s not my fucking fault you’re a fucking idiot!”

Then she throws her large Sprite at him and peels out of the parking lot.

“Jessie, what is wrong with you? That guy is just doing his job.”

“Oh come on, Sprite washes right out. I throw drinks at Theo all the time.”

4) I’m at the neighborhood bar trying to get laid. Jessie calls me. She’s wasted.

“I’m at Marfreless, come get me.”


“Because I can’t drive home, I’m wasted.”

Now, you have to realize, Marfreless is Houston’s “make out” bar. No one really goes in there alone. Most people go in there with someone else’s special person, get them drunk, go upstairs and get it on.

“You’re at Marfreless alone? Why?”

“I met a guy here but he’s a douche so I slapped him and now he’s gone. You have to come get me.”

“Just take a cab.”

“I can’t. I left my purse at home. So come get me and pay my bar tab or I’ll walk out and get arrested and daddy will fire you.”

So I leave and drive over to Marfreless. I walk in. She’s not at the bar like she said she was.

I figured she was in the bathroom so I ordered a drink and waited.

When the drink came I gave Jessie’s description to the bar tender. The bar tender told me she was upstairs.


So I go up the balcony and Jessie’s on the couch with a 50-year-old dude’s hand up her skirt and 30-year-old woman latched on her neck. She’s moaning.

“Jessie, what the fuck?”

“Go away, perv.”

A waitress hears the commotion, she comes upstairs and makes us both leave. Jessie tries to fight her. I have to carry her down the stairs and stick her in my car. I go back in the bar, pay her tab, come back out and Jessie says:

“I can’t find my panties. Go back in and look for them.”

“No way.”

“Never mind, I didn’t put any on today.”

Every once in awhile she’d mock masturbate on the way home and then laugh hysterically when I told her to stop.

So yah, I got, about 25 more days of this until school starts.