“Helloooo?” the groggy voice says.

“Hi!” I say, smiling and making sure my voice sounds happy and positive.

“Who’s this?”

“Oh, I think you know who I am.”

“Ehh?”

“You fucking asshole.”

“Whaaaat?”

“Yeah! I’m Laura Katt. That woman that you RAMMED into last week? The woman that you laughed at, just because she was poor and won’t fall for your crazy shit. And guess why I’m calling now!”

“Umm, because you love me?”

“Because my insurance company just called to tell me that they’re siding with YOU. YOU, the reckless driver who messed up my car! What did you do, Byron? Did you pay off the police? REALLY? For one fender-bender, you saw fit to bribe your way to victory? Because I guess admitting you were wrong and paying a DOLLAR, literally a dollar, for one moment in your decadent, obscenely rich life was really NOT THAT important.”

He stays silent until he erupts into laughter.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?”

“Sorry. But you are flipping the fuck out over a fender-bender, is kind of funny.”

“Yeah! I’m sure you and your boys at the precinct are having a good laugh over this. Well, what a surprise! The rich screw over the little people, once again.”

“Oh, give me a break. You were at fault.”

“NO, I was not! And it’s not like money matters to you, Byron. If you’re driving around in a Ferrari, you can afford to be a gentleman, you know.”

“Oh, that’s what it comes down to, right?” he laughs. “Me being a gentleman and letting you walk all over me. Nah, I don’t think so. Homey don’t play like that.”

“WHAT?! Homey? Stop talking slang. I don’t understand it.”

“Oh my God! You are the one acting crazy here,” he laughs back to me. “Listen to yourself.”

“Don’t pretend that this is about anything else,” I reply. “This is about me losing money but standing up for injustice. People like you need to be called out on your bad behavior.”

“Oh right, injustice. Because if anything negative happens to you, it’s because you’re the victim, right?”

“In this case, yes.”

“Jesus Christ, I’ve argued with you more than my last girlfriend. For real. And I barely know your name.”

“I don’t even know your name,” I say. “But I do make it a point to stand up to bullies, so there you go.”

“You don’t know my name?”

“Yeah Byron. Or as I call you, Byron the Brat.”

“No. I mean…my last name? Gallows?”

“No. Should I know that name?”

“I’m Alfred Gallows’ son.”

“Umm whoopee then. I’m Lonny Katt’s daughter. And you owe me money. Goodbye.”

“So, you really don’t know who I am, do you?”

“Oh, I do know who you are, now that I think about it.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the rich asshole who rammed into my car and then paid off the police to get away with it. I will forever remember you, Byron, as the Bad Driver and rich, entitled little brat you are. Have a terrible life. Goodbye.”

“Oh my God!”

He laughs but I quiet his sarcasm by hanging up on him. Well, that wasn’t worth the two hundred dollars claim I would rather have had, but at least it felt cathartic.

He calls back again and I try to ignore it. Sent straight to voice mail. Good.

And again! He keeps calling me. What more is there to say, really? I wonder.

“Stop calling me,” I reply back coldly.

“You know the thing that bothers me?” he says.

“I don’t care.”

“Is that it’s not about the money. If I was at fault, I would have gladly paid you, even without getting the insurance companies involved.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“But it’s the idea. The principle. The very thought of you lying to get what you want, that bothers me.”

“I didn’t lie. You’re the one lying.”

“You know what?” he says, sassing me again. “I’ll tell you what. If you just admit to me right now that you were lying, I will pay your entire car off.”

I groan loudly into the phone, so he can hear me reacting to how ridiculous he sounds.

“I just want you to admit it.”

“Whatever. Fine, I was lying. And I don’t want you to pay my car off, just pay for the claim. Two hundred dollars. I can’t afford it.”

“So, you admit you lied?”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. I know in my heart I didn’t lie. But you’re so determined to dangle that carrot in front of my face that you’re going to keep talking about this. And I don’t want to keep talking about it or to you, so fine, whatever. Pay for the damages.”

“So you didn’t lie? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m not a professional liar, Byron. So no, I never lie. Can you say the same thing?”

“I-?”

“You know since your family has such a GREAT reputation for being honest and playing nice?”

He stays quiet, almost sounding embarrassed.

“I Googled your dad’s name. I had no idea who you were at first, honestly. But from what I’ve researched, he’s certainly not the most beloved guy in the world. Something about evicting people from his property, cheating people out of their investments. Sound familiar?”

“For your information, my father is a saint. The media hates him because they just like to pick on rich, old white guys. But HE’S the one giving to charity. He’s the one investing in green technology. He’s voting Blue all the way. What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to survive, Byron. You think people like me, people who work for a living, are happy to grovel for an extra two hundred dollars? We don’t do it to play a game with you. We do it because we need the money. Imagine how much your cop friend was probably hurting for cash, to be so desperate as to interfere with an insurance claim that was none of his business whatsoever.”

He still says nothing. Good.

“I mean you talk about the principle or whatever, but the principle of the matter is that every little thing you do, the way you treat people, shows your true colors. And all I got from this whole unpleasant experience with you, was that you will never admit what a jerk you are. So, in my eyes that gives you a lifetime value of about two hundred dollars as a decent human being. Goodbye, once again.”

“Wait.”

Click.

What started as an annoying fender-bender, and then evolved into a phone argument, has now turned into a full-blown TROLL war. Byron Gallows was now resorting to stalking, trolling and flaming me on social media.

I fold my arms and stew as I read over his direct message.

Dear Laura, you know, we react to the energy that other people put out there. Maybe if you weren’t such a psycho as soon as I met you, we would have gotten along better. And maybe I would have given you whatever you wanted. You know, like the Genie from Aladdin. Yeah, that sounds like me.

---

I ignored his message. I could have responded and kept this ridiculous dialogue going, but honestly, I’ve had enough. I’ve met guys like him before and I’m not impressed. Whatever I am to him, an argument, a “crazy feminist”, a poor person who dared to collide with his car, or just a quick lay, he must win this game. Nope, not happening.

---

Laura, I forgive you. It is the Christ-like thing to do. And above all things, I am a believer. A sinner, yes, but I believe in right and wrong. And though you started this war between us, I am keen to forgive you. Be blessed, my child.

---

Message deleted. No, still not rising to the bait.

---

Laura, are there any men you DO admire? Or do you just hate us all equally for daring to indirectly make your life miserable? Seriously, I want to know. You have to admit, you hated me from the moment you saw me. Why? For real, sister. Lay it on me.

---

Ignored.

---

Laura, I would like to apologize…

---

Typing a response…

---

For your terrible behavior. Really, I’m ashamed of you. But I am kind and want to start over again. Let’s be friends.

---

Ignored.

It’s been five days since Byron’s last stalker text, and I was just starting to think he took the hint. But now he dares to call me on my phone again and I can’t help but sigh. Part of me really wants to ignore him. I don’t believe in rewarding bad behavior with more attention.

If this is going to be more gloating or more jock-bullshit, then forget it. I have heard more than enough of that from some of my clients. I’m certainly not about to humor THIS GUY.

I ponder for a while whether to answer his call or just block him and eventually forget I ever met him. The phone continues to ring and I think it over, second-guessing myself and waving my hand around. So close to answering, so close to ignoring him permanently.

But the more I think about it, it feels cowardly to NOT talk to him at least one more time. I’m not afraid of his antics. I’m just tired of people like him thinking they can win with such juvenile behavior. Maybe I owe it to everyone else to put him in his place, once and for all.

“Yeaaaah?” I say, sounding tired.

“Laura, it’s me.”

“Yeah, kinda figured from the caller ID. What do you want?”

“I think-”

“I’m not in the mood to hear anymore gloating or trolling. I just don’t care anymore.”

“Listen…I thought over it.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And…let’s just drop the whole car incident, okay?”

“Drop it?”

“Aside from that, I have no problem with you.”

“Oh, gee! Thanks,” I laugh in response.

“Seriously. I want to…you know…”

“What?!”

“Apologize. For my sarcasm. Thinking back, I do kind of sense that I was trolling you a little bit. I said some things that were, you know, probably just me being an ass. Now that I’ve thought this over-”

“Oh, now that you’ve thought this over?” I laugh. “Look, apology accepted. Okay? Let’s just move on.”

“No, wait. What I mean to say is…”

“WHAT? There’s nothing else to say, Byron. Okay, I accept your apology. Let’s just forget it ever happened.”

“Let me pay you for the claim.”

“Ugh…that might have been nice two weeks ago, but now it really doesn’t matter anymore.”

“No, I’m serious. You’re right, it’s just money. You need it more than I do. Give me an address and I’ll send you a check.”

“I’m not giving you my home address,” I say blankly.

“Oh for god’s sake!” he laughs. “I don’t mean it like that…”

“You can send the money to my work address.”

“Fine. I really do want to put this behind us.”

“Mmm-hmm.” I remain quiet, wondering what he’s really thinking.

“No, seriously. I thought it over. I don’t even care about the car, really. I just thought about what you said, about you needing the money more than I do and you’re absolutely right. So that’s that.”

“So…waiting for the slap. You’re nice for like seconds and then you got to slap me back. Go ahead.”

“No, no! I promise. No smart-ass reply. For real. And hey, I’m usually not this nice.”

“You mean you’re usually not a decent, nice, normal person?” I finally laugh. “Okay. You know, for what it’s worth, that day on the road…I was really having a bad day. I was probably just stressed out of my mind.”

He says nothing but listens.

“So we probably just pissed each other off. Thank you for volunteering to pay. Now I gotta go.”

“Where?”

“Where am I going?” I laugh.

“Sorry. None of my business.”

“No, it isn’t.” I laugh again. “But if you must know, I’m going shopping.”

“Local grocery store or Whole Foods? Because I’m all about eating the Keto diet lately.”

“Umm…Whole Foods, if you must know. Goodbye, Byron. I’m sure you’re going to have a pretty OK life. Happy now? See ya.”

“Wait.”

I chuckle as I hang up the phone. What in the world does he want to talk about? Maybe he’s one of those psycho rich guys who wants everyone in the world to love him. Well congrats, kid. I don’t hate you, nor do I love you. You simply don’t matter that much in the normal course of a day. I bid you farewell.

I feel slightly dirty as I squeeze the avocados, making sure they’re just the right texture. Feeling up fruit has always made me feel giggly. Oh geez, I have a feeling I’m going to spend way too much money this week. My basket is already half-full, and I’ve barely begun shopping for the week.

“Make sure they’re ripe,” I hear a voice behind me say.

I turn around, expecting to see a helpful clerk or something, only to see Byron’s smiling face in front of me, holding a banana.

“Oh my God!” I laugh. “Okay, now you’ve officially turned from a jackass to a stalker. Did you follow me here, Byron?”

“No. You said you’re going shopping to Whole Foods. All it took was a brief visit to your social media page to see what city you call home, then I looked up the Whole Foods nearest us, and there you go.”

“Congratulations! You’re a creep.”

“Oh come on!” he laughs. “Nothing creepy. I just wanted to talk a few minutes.”

“About what?” I say, carrying on and continuing to search for fruits.

“About whatever, you know. You’re the one on Facebook, always posting about your life. You seem like the type of person who enjoys chatting, and you’re obviously lonely since you basically announced what store you were going to.”

I sigh and laugh loudly.

“You wanted me to find you. And it’s cool.”

“First of all, no. I did not want you to come and stalk me. And yeah, maybe I do share too much online, and with random people I meet, but that’s not an invitation to butt into my life.”

“I’m just talking!”

“Look, I’m sorry to sound mean about it, but besides the accident, which you very generously volunteered to pay for, we don’t really have anything to talk about.”

“Sure, we do. Don’t you believe in fate?”

“In what?” I ask, genuinely surprised by the statement.

“Fate, you know. Our paths crossing for a reason.”

“No, I believe in people colliding into my car and then making up silly excuses to have pointless conversations. Is that what this is? Probably.”

He laughs, and I smile back at him. I honestly don’t know what he wants from me at this point. Is this a game? Is he a serial killer?

“I totally believe in fate. I think we met each other for a reason.”

“Oh really?”

“In fact, I think I know what that reason is now. The universe conveyed it to me.”

“Oh! Do tell. What did the universe tell you?”

“That for all the arguing we did, and all the nasty things we said to each other, I’m still very attracted to you.”

My mouth drops open and I laugh hard.

“I know. Crazy, right?”

“Thanks, but…” I shake my head, still in disbelief.

“But what? You have a great body. I’ve been fantasizing about you ever since that first day, and I was definitely sizing you up the first time I saw you.”

“I…I…” I shake my head in disgust.

“MILF-attack, know what I’m saying?”

I open my mouth again, shocked at his crudeness. “Okay, thanks. But no. Not today, not ever.”

“Why? Are you married? I can keep a secret if you can.”

I give him a dirty look, and not the kind he wants, I’m sure of it. “No, I am not married. But I am still rejecting you. Even if I was single, Byron, absolutely not.”

“Why? Am I that hideous? Or maybe you just don’t like charming rich guys?”

“Yeah!” I giggle. “That must be it. Couldn’t possibly be that you’re full of yourself and are the complete opposite of guys I WOULD date.”

“Oh, so you do date guys?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, that’s something to work with. So at least you’re not a spinster who’s angry at the world. You are getting out there and looking.”

I tighten my brow, glaring at him.

“I envy the man who has a one-night stand with you,” he says looking me up and down. “You look like you really give a man more than he can handle. That’s the beauty of older women and I really like enthusiasm in bed.”

I wasn’t even wearing anything sexy, just jeans and a modest white blouse. But he’s eyeing me like I’m a swimsuit model or something.

“Byron, what the hell!! Does this pickup line actually work on anyone?”

“Hmm…” he says, looking up. “I honestly don’t know. I usually get laid on the first date because women ‘love’ me so much for my money, you know.”

“That’s sad,” I say, shaking my head.

“Nah, shagging my brains out every weekend feels more like a happily ever after ending,” he says with a grin.

“Well, honestly Byron. I tried SO hard to resist you, I really did. But calling me a ‘MILF’, an ‘older woman’ and bragging about your one-night stands is just turning me on so much, I can’t resist anymore. Let’s do it.”

“Yeah? Meet me in the restroom?”

“Oh my God!” I scream out loud. “You can’t even detect sarcasm anymore. You poor man-child!”

“What sarcasm?! I told you the truth. I think you’re very sexy and I want to sleep with you. You said okay.”

“I was being sarcastic because your way of hitting on women is crass, boorish and quite frankly, ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But you know, money, fame and good looks do like ninety-nine percent of the job for me. I just have to avoid saying hashtag MAGA and women throw themselves at me.”

“Well, I feel sorry for those girls and their low self-esteem.”

“Oh! Oh, I see the problem.”

“Do you?” I can’t help but smile. “Starting to realize your arrogance?”

“You’re one of those uber Christian types.”

“Uber Christian?”

“You know polyamorous, sexual revolution, YOLO and do what’s in your heart. You don’t go for all that, do you?”

“I do actually do what’s in my heart. And guess what? You’re not in there, not even near my liver or the kidneys. Nowhere in the body.”

“I’d like to be in your body.”

“I know. But here we are. I’m shopping and you’re making a fool out of yourself.”

“If you’re so sure that we’re not right for each other, kiss me right now. Then we’ll know for sure.”

I laugh and shake my head.

“And I’ll be the first to admit if there’s no sexual tension. I will.”

“I am not kissing you! A kiss is a reward a woman gives a man for feeling sexual attraction and the PURPOSE of a kiss. It’s not just something you get because you think every hot girl owes you one.”

“Well-”

“And yes, I am hot. I know I’m hot. Thanks for confirming that.”

“Yeah, you are. And boy did that speech seem rehearsed. I mean, do you write this stuff in your spare time or do you just constantly get hit on all the time?”

“I don’t get hit on all the time. So, I guess, you do get credit for being so outspoken about your one-night stand wish. Flattered, but no thank you.”

“Oh my God. You just keep arguing with me and I just keep fantasizing about you more!”

I laugh again but suddenly realize he just keeps coming at me and has no concept of rejection or embarrassment. It’s time to push him away a bit…

“You know,” he interrupts, “if you had just been a nice lady when we met and didn’t insist on arguing with me at every turn, I wouldn’t even be crushing on you. I wouldn’t even be thinking about you. It’s like I thrive on conflict or something.”

I sigh and stare at him in disbelief. A look he probably interprets as sexual but is actually quite the opposite. I feel pity.

“First of all, I don’t meet random guys to have sex with, Byron,” I reply. “I don’t go looking for friends with benefits. I just like friendly people. Friends are important people in my life. So, you could say I believe in ‘destiny’ that way. Attraction is meaningless, relationships are what matter.”

“Hmm,” he says. “I’ve never thought about that before.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“What do you do for a living? See, I’m taking an interest in you, as a friend.”

I laugh scornfully again. “I’m a therapist.”

“I knew it! I knew you were messing with my head.”

“NO, I am not messing with your head. But if you mean, do I call you out on your rude and womanizing behavior? Absolutely.”

“I want to do to you, what you’re doing to that avocado.”

“I s-!”

“Okay, hint taken! I’m leaving now,” he says, interrupting. “I was rejected, and it hurts. But I’ll tell you, I regret nothing. You are the hottest woman I’ve ever met in a long time, and I had to take a chance. And frankly, I’m relieved. Because I don’t think I could even handle you in bed. I know. Believe me, I know.”

I laugh again, against my will. What a silly ass! But at least he’s finally taking the hint and leaving me alone. Good, any more boyish antics and I would have reached for the mace. He’s always walking that line between acceptable and invasive. He’s a fascinating study for therapy, but for a relationship, not so much.

Some guys are just aren’t worth the annoyance!