My Roommate and Chris Dabney

I sometimes wonder if I've been inadvertently involved in a major drug ring, if all my enemies are not just weird zealots protecting their church, finances, and reputations.

My last roommate, offered me hashish. I declined. And of course I wasn't going to write about it while living with him but he told me he got the best stuff, from Afghanistan. I wondered how he got that, and then I told a cook from work, who wanted some and said it was rare to find, but I never followed up on it. I miss that cook. R. Really sweet.

I sort of wondered if my roommate knew the father of my baby at all and they just weren't telling me. I have some well-founded reasons for wondering.

One, was that I found his ad on craigslist and it matched, exactly, what I was looking for, and was posted after the father (I may as just well call him by his name, Chris) knew what I needed and he told me to check craigslist. It looked like an ad that had been written by him (Chris). It was exactly the amount I could afford.

So I took it and then this guy tells me he's worked as a waiter (same occupation--unless he's also an undercover sniper or rat or something--as Chris). Then, right before I moved out, I found a card which showed where he had lived previously: just a few blocks away from Chris. And he wanted to take me to a strip club, like Chris wanted to do with me. Same habits and everything. He wore all black, like Chris, for his uniform for work.

When I moved in, he said his girlfriend had just moved out and that his "friend" had placed the ad for him in craigslist. What I thought was odd, was that the place was cleaned out. Someone had been there, but there were no belongings. After I moved in, this guy, I., moved his stuff in. Why would he move it out and then back in?

So he moved his stuff in, and on the second day, after I was there, I went to the bathroom and it SMELLED exactly like Chris. Which may sound weird, but no one else smells like him, and I had been with him the night before. His scent was everywhere.

I picked up on this same thing at work once. I went to the women's bathroom and I SMELLED Chris. I hadn't seen him go in there, but I came out, and walked over to Chris and said why had he been in the women's bathroom and he peed all over the seat and I didn't want to clean it up. Chris was mad I said this out loud, and said he hadn't been in there, and I said, "Yes you were, it SMELLS like you in there." And then he admitted it.

It was after this that my roommate, I., began peeing all over the toilet in our apartment. He hadn't done this before.

When I first moved into my apartment, I looked around, and there was no scent of Chris. But after I signed the agreement, and moved in, the next day, I could smell CHRIS in the whole bathroom. It was like he was there, looked around, and then spent some time in there. I knew he had been there.

I didn't say anything because I thought maybe he knew this other guy and he was trying to help me discreetly, without my knowing. But then things got worse with me and Chris and I had my pregnancy mood swings, and he was a jerk to me and everyone noticed, and I posted stuff about him and his spiderwoman.

After I made my first post about spiderwoman, is when my workshirts disappeared from my apartment. And then one reappeared in my closet later, and another one appeared in a cubby at work, the morning after Chris had worked the nightshift just hours before.

It crossed my mind that they had decided to fuck with me because I was telling Chris he was going to pay child support, and because I wrote about spiderwoman, his best friend and "partner in crime".

My roommate had a key to my apartment so he could have taken the shirts, and then when I made a big deal about it, given one to Chris to put back at the workplace and one back in my closet, knowing I'd write about it and would sound nuts.

Then, of course, I caught the manager coming into my apartment, but I do not believe he did anything with my workshirts. He was illegally entering my apartment, and maybe someone he knew snooped through my food, maybe looking for drugs or something, but why would HE take my workshirts?

The only people who would be mad at me, at that moment, and who would know I had to have my workshirts for work, would be my roommate and Chris. I mean, possibly, someone else who then knew someone who worked there, but how would they have the guts to put one of my shirts back into a cubby at work? I had checked that cubby, and everything around it, and my shirts were NOT there.

And of course, shortly after, Chris was telling me he was "my saving grace" but talking about getting rid of me to others at work.

There is a small possibility that Chris was in my apartment checking things out to make sure there weren't cameras hidden in the bathroom, if he is someone undercover, and could get access, but it seems more likely that he had a connection with my roommate in the first place.

I would think Chris was looking out for me and was protective, and trying to help me, but then he'd do these other things, like the comments he'd make.

And unless he was just trying to keep a cover as a total asshole, he wouldn't be so disrespectful of women. One woman who was hispanic or Irish, he had come to see him from Vienna, VA, and I could tell she liked him and she came back and waited around for him at work and he wanted her to just meet up with him "later". One of the cooks told me Chris bragged to him, "And SHE SWALLOWS." The cook was telling me Chris had no respect for women at all. Which everyone knew, but I thought maybe there was a hidden good side to him. I think he was starting to fall for me at one point, and didn't know what to do about it. And I kept my poker face. He even talked about this one girl, G., who his friends were rooting for, who he decided to try to be serious with and I heard about how SHE wasn't the best, (so-so sexually), from his spiderwoman. He talked about sex details with whomever he was with. I don't even know why he was with her except to try to prove something to himself, that he could have a "relationship". At least she was accomodating of his swinging. I don't think she cared, but he and spiderwoman would make fun of her. I overheard it. Basically, there are plenty of swingers who adore him, I'm sure, and women who just one a one-nighter, married or not, NSA, but because he also went for naive women who thought there was the potential for a relationship, they should all be forewarned. I felt bad for Ms. Vienna "Swallows". Oh, and, since everyone knows all about the women he's with, it should be known...he really, really, wants to do anal with everyone. I wouldn't let him. But believe me, it's to be expected he will try. That's what I meant by "our problems were geographical" (although, otherwise, we had chemistry and it was good, no complaints from him or me--and actually reaching an almost emotional plane at some points...there was something there that was meaninful, and that's when the baby was conceived. Something was transcended).

He said things that made me think he had foreknowledge of me, like he'd had access to an FBI file on me or something, or knew people involved with the whole Catholic church thing, or with whatever mob or drug ring that hated me. He made a lot of inuendos which could have been inside insults only to me, if he'd had foreknowledge.
He told me from the first he was "very, very bad,and had done some very bad things." I don't know why he told me that. But it could have been a cover.

He said he got "tested" for STDs every 6 months, and after the whole Walk of Fame thing, where all these people were basically nodding respects and saluting him, after he'd come into work with a baseball cap ridge around his hair (and he doesn't wear caps) he'd said he was going to Chicago. Maybe that was his next assignment or his field office, I don't know. He also had his phone set to a different timezone twice. One hour ahead from Eastern Standard time, which could put someone in some parts of Canada and in some parts of Latin America.

He walked around, and behind me, and followed me (and I always knew when he was following me because I'd turn, and there he was in traffic, or 7 blocks down, looking at me and then disappearing) like a sniper-stalker.

His roommates wouldn't see him for almost months, and supposedly he was with his girlfriend, but then we'd find out he wasn't with her either. So where was he?

His spiderwoman would probably cover for him for anything.

It is possible that he was just a jerk trying to be good sometimes, and making more of what he was, or
he could have known some of my enemies and was keeping ME close (keep your friends close and your enemies closer) on their behalf and screwing with me, or
he could been an undercover something-or-other who did something that deserved recognition with the group he worked for, and yet still have been trying to fuck around with me.

The last thing I heard him say, talking to a bartender, was that he was thinking of spending half his time in Philadephia and commuting back and forth from there to his mom's house. She asked if he knew anyone there and he said no, that was the beauty of it, to explore something new. I said, in a sarcastic tone, leaving the counter:

"Don't forget to leave your social security number behind."

He was quite mean to me, telling me he knew HIS job was secure, and "good luck" with mine, and after he knew I was pregnant, talked about his menage-trois exploits and described the women in detail. My coworker thought it was awful. Towards the end, he tried being nice, but I think it was just to get his keys back.

He gave me his house keys, after being a jerk to me, so I could get my mail, and I told him later I lost them. I didn't lose them. I even told my roommate, I wasn't going to "use" them, just "lose" them. If they were buddies, Chris knew. He was extremely nice to me after that, because he'd been asking for his keys back and I didn't respond by text or phone, right before I got fired, and charming, and made intelligent conversation to where I thought we had a lot in common again. Same taste, and still had chemistry. But I decided it was his way to try to butter me up to get his keys back. His mother had already told me how manipulative he could be. So I decided it was a ruse, and not sincere, and that night, sure enough, he sent me another text, asking if he could get his keys back. He had been almost charming enough to fall in love with again. Even though he was a con artist, it almost got to me. But, firmed up by logic, and casting emotion aside, I texted him back:

"They're Lost."

I was fired shortly after that.

Had he been able to explain himself about his bizarre comments and foreknowledge about stuff, and had he quit drinking, and been able to quit swinging and screwing around, and if I had proof positive some of his issues were just a cover and that he knew about me or my history because he was trying to help catch people who harmed me and my son, I would have, despite all his problems, probably been able to fall in love with him.

I rule with my head, not my heart.

And sometimes, that is the safest possible course to take.

I am capable of being very sweet, and tender, and giving, but only in private. I'm a very loving person. But I try not to allow my sensitivity and goodness get the better of me.

Anyway, he withheld my mail from me forever, and I kept trying to get it from it and he promised to bring it and wouldn't. I don't know if he didn't want me to have it, or didn't want to lose contact with me.

And if he doesn't want to worry about getting someone pregnant, he should take better precautions. Not every chick is down for an abortion as a method of birth control. And he knew I wasn't on birth control and he was sober the night the baby was conceived. Amazingly.

Sort of funny because I told him in the beginning that I would break his heart, after he said he was fickle and would break mine.

He met his match.

I love that last text I made: "They're lost."

That man will be happiest marrying a very stupid woman. Someone sweet and naive, who will tolerate his habits but never really think hard enough to figure out all of the devious tricks. He needs a honey bisquit.

In some ways, he was able to handle me, in a good way, like others haven't been able to. But harassing or being mean, and having a secret past and insider info about me isn't going to sustain that skill.

As for me, hmmm...what do I need? What kind of man do I need?!