Well now, I feel that I have finally lost my internet virginity! Woo hoo! I am now a (somewhat) competent user of Yahoo Messenger. Yes, yes, I know what you are all thinking. Yahoo Messenger? He's just discovered Yahoo Messenger? He's either twelve years old or sixty-five. Well, no, gentle readers, I am neither, though my age does fall in between there somewhere.
The reason I am not familiar with Messenger is simply that I've never found the need for any of the instant messenger programs. I talk to people on the phone, I email long distance friends, and I am a power texter. Unlimited text plan ftw! It is only recently I've discovered that Messenger is both fun to use and a great way to connect with people who you are just getting to know, such as internet friends.
Now, I, being the naive messenger rube, assumed that having Messenger friends was going to be all fun and games. Wrong! I've already had to disable one email/Messenger address because I was having an unpleasant experience with people. Luckily for me, it was one of my throw away addresses that I use to sign up for porn. Er, I mean that I use to send out spam to unsuspecting people. No wait, I mean that I use when I don't want to give out my personal email address. Yes, that is the reason I had that particular address, for personal anonymity.
Anyway, during my forays into the world of camforit, I made a few friends, as I believe I've mentioned a dozen times already, a few of them whom I have gotten to know very well through the magic of Messenger. Unfortunately, this is not necessarily a good thing. You see, one of my newfound friends, it turned out, was a psychopath.
Well, okay, he wasn't really a psychopath in that I was never in any danger of being harmed. But saying he was a psychopath was more dramatic than just calling him an asshat. This "friend", who went by the name Hephaestion on camforit, took a liking to me simply based on my ridiculous conversations on the site. He thought I was funny and wanted to chat off site. Since I had just started up my Messenger account, I thought, "Why not? This fellow seems legit!" and gave him my address.
At first, our conversations were fairly normal, though I did find I was giving out an inordinate amount of advice, not something I generally do. He said that he was 24 and had a crush on a straight friend. He had frightened the friend by telling him that he, Hephaestion, was in love with him. When the friend got nervous and walked away, Hephaestion said he got down on his knees and begged the straight friend to stay because he needed him badly. Needless to say, said friend weirded out and high-tailed it far away while Hephaestion cried on the ground.
Now, you would think that any intelligent person would immediately have had klaxons go off in their head. Can you say clingy, needy, drama queen? I knew you could.
I, however, have never been accused of having a great deal of social intelligence and assumed that I was safe from his madness. So, being the kind soul that I am, I tried to talk him through his problems rather than blocking him outright. Big mistake! You see, after two days of talking online, I suddenly realized that Hephaestion was over his bout of a broken heart and had now transfered his affections to me. Great.
He started calling me his "baby" and his "true love" and other such nonsensical lovers' terms that I have always found nauseating and trite when uttered by others. Now that they were being aimed in my directions, I found the terms of endearment to be no longer annoying, but creepy and frightening. I finally had to tell Hephaestion that I was not in love with him, but liked his company. He asked if I would ever love him. Now, what do you say to that? Realistically, my answer was, "Never, nein, not in this lifetime, whatcha talkin' bout Willis, don't go there girlfriend, back off bitch, no."
What I actually said was, "Well, we'll just have to see." And that, dear reader, is why I have been described as the consummate marshmallow.
As a few days passed and I refused to play into his "long distance lovers" game, I started to get an odd feeling that he was going to pull some sort of craziness on me. And sure enough, last Thursday, he informed me that he had been summoned home to Madrid from his college in Rome because his doctor had results from a physical to give him. On Friday, he contacted me on Messenger to say that he had been hospitalized, but the doctors would not tell him why. All he knew was that his family was there and everyone was crying.
Now, I've been through two surgeries for liver tumors. I know that doctors tell the patient what is wrong before they tell the family. I also know that electronics are not allowed in hospitals because they could interfere with delicate instruments. In short, I knew he was lying. But I played along anyway.
In the course of an hour's conversation, he went from having no knowledge of his illness, to knowing he had bone cancer and was scheduled for more tests the next day. Oh really? And he found all of this out at 3:00 am? I don't think so.
Just to throw a bit of a gag his way, I told him I wanted to send him a picture of me so that he would know what I looked like. You see, I don't send pictures of myself to people because, to be frank, that is just too weird, and he had been asking for one for a while. My plan was to send him a picture of some nasty looking fellow as a trollish prank. He then said he wanted me to see him also and would get his brother to take some pictures of him. Being curious as to what he was going to do, I agreed to receive them.
These are the pictures he sent me.
This is the first photo he ever sent, a few weeks back. I didn't ask for it, but he insisted that I know what he look like. I found that rather odd and automatically assumed he was trying to bait me. I mean, why else would you be throwing a picture of a handsome fellow around, right?
This is the first hospital picture. He said it was taken in the public bath area. Let's see. Sexy hip hugger jeans, wife beater t-shirt. That certainly isn't the get up I had to wear in the hospital. I had an oversized barber's cape that didn't even cover my ass.
He said this was a picture his brother took of him next, this time in his own room. Notice the change of clothes and the white washcloth casually tossed over his left shoulder. I thought that was a nice touch for someone deathly ill.
Just to see what he would do, I asked him for a picture of his feet. He hemmed and hawed for a few minutes and then sent me this one. So, now he isn't wearing any pants, is butt naked on the hospital floor, and is posed in a very sexy way for his brother to take the snapshot. Riiiiiight.
As Helen Keller could see, the pictures are not of the same person, were not taken in the same place, and are even different sizes. What nonsense was this? I felt very insulted; just how dumb did he think I was?
So, I called him on his lies, told him that my computer had professional photography software in it, and the EXIF data showed that the pictures were not taken that day, nor did they come from the same camera. This, of course, was a lie in itself, because I don't know the first thing about looking at EXIF data nor do I own photography software. However, as the Wizard's First Rule states, people are stupid and will believe any lie they are told because they wish it to be true or they fear it to be true. And so, he believed me.
I know this because I received an email the next day. Instead of retelling what it says, I will let you read it for yourself.
________________________________________________________________________________
Michael,
I only can tell you that I´m very greatful with you, because you made me so happy. I found in you a treasure. I pray for you and hope your problem be solved soon and you could be very happy.
There is no doubt that I have to pay for my sinner past. I was so afraid to tell you that I was a porn model so that´s why you found the web address on the photos. That´s te only way I could pay for my studies because I ran away from home whem I was 19 when I told my parents that I was gay and they want to send me to a hospital to cure my homosexuality.
Then I was so determine to continue my studies for be someone in life and one day I could return to my home on Madrid and see my parents to his eyes and tell then that I did it by myself.
I´m always honest with you.
I´m Alexander **** ******, I was born 24 for years ago. I study or least used to on the Gregorian University at Rome, you brothers are, Michel, William. My dad is *********** **** Orleans as you could see is a member of the royalty, that´s why he is ashamed of me. My mother is ***** Myers also from the french royalty that´s why I´m ashemed for them. They can't stand a gay son.
Well If you want I could give you my address but as you like.
I received today the news that my cancer is already spread on my lungs and my brain. I will be death very soon.
So Micheal I hope we could see on the other life, and I would be carring from where ever I will be.
Thanks for everything, I really love you!
I will give my life for you, for all your problems died with me.
Yours,
Alexander **** ******
From my bed of the Hospital Pardo de Aravaca
_______________________________________________________
Okay, so according to the letter, he went from not knowing anything was wrong with him to being on his death bed and needing his final sacrament in one day? Really? This must have been the Ebola version of cancer because it went through his body like diaper rash on a baby's ass.
He had also avoided sending pictures or cut off the face because he was a porn star. What? A gay porn star born of Spanish and French nobility fucking his way through life to pay for an education at a venerable Catholic University who was embarrassed to have his face out on the internet. Really? Because I think I saw that exact story line on last week's Disney Channel movie of the week, plagiarist.
I have to admit that I was shocked and disgusted at the audacity of this man, making up lie after lie just to do what? Stop sending me messages? Make me feel guilty for not loving him? Ha! If he only knew. I refuse to take responsibility for anyone else's happiness or sadness. He was barking up the wrong tree on that one.
On Saturday I received a final message on Yahoo Messenger from him. All he put was "Goodbye Michael. I now go to my rest in Rome." So I replied, "Goodbye, Alex. Have your brother email me a link to your obituary."
Somehow I don't think I'll ever be getting that email.
Part of me regrets not reaching out more to him, to tell him he didn't have to continue with his ridiculous charade, that I would be his friend anyway. But another part of me is disgusted by the manipulative tactics he used against me. A person with more compassion and more gullibility than me might very well have been sucked in to his crazy world. I, however, am not particularly gullible and compassion is not my strong suit, and so I saw through his subterfuge almost from the very beginning.
Well. I guess I can chalk this one up to experience.
And so, dear readers, the fact still remains that I am loving being on Messenger and am now one friend short due to the untimely demise of Prince Lies-A-Lot. Anyone who wants to add me on Yahoo Messenger, please feel free to do so. My address is doctor.mandragora@yahoo.com.
Only be warned.
I neither send pictures of myself, nor do I request them. And if you send them anyway, my EXIF reading software will be looking at you very carefully.
