It's been said that i have this strange talent for corrupting the morals, dare i say souls, of others. I tend not to believe this but then again in my youth there was a body of evidence that suggested this was most definitely the case The truth was i never made anyone do anything they didn't want to do, never pressured anyone to take anything they didn't want to take, drink anything they didn't want to drink, as Erich Fromm would say, i was true to myself in behaving the way i wanted to behave and in that behavior i didn't hurt anyone and so i need not worry about what others thought... and i didn't. Granted one could posit that the young women i came in contact with didn't always fare well due to my laissez-faire attitude toward things like monogamy but then again none of us were officially bonded to each other and even if we were no one owns or owes anyone anything. This philosophy of mine has frequently over the years made me the easy scapegoat, the excuse for friends when they've gotten blotto or fucked up and had to deal with parents or significant others, the mantra being, well i was hanging out with Kono... and after that nothing more needs said. All blame is immediately shifted to me and really that was cool, i didn't really fucking care...
My newest soul to corrupt was that of the young Lars. For a metalhead Lars was the squarest motherfucker i had ever met. Didn't smoke weed or drink, played guitar and video games and Dungeons and Dragons, we had almost nothing in common even though i dug music and had a radio show, played one video game at the time (Sega Genesis NHL) but in reality we were water and oil. He was very concerned with my almost complete lack of work ethic and the fact i spent most of my time devising ways to do as little as possible. Most days started out with me eating my makeshift breakfast and watching the news in one of the television lounges in the dorm we were working in. From there i'd usually find a room where i could sleep for an hour or two before pretending to do some work. We had all summer to do three dorms, all with about eight floors and the fact was we could have finished them all in a couple weeks had we tried... but i wasn't trying.
Being an accomplished slacker meant that i had already worked out a system. At first i made Lars alert me if someone showed up on the floor we were working on but i soon found that Lars was not the most trustworthy of lads when it came to fucking off or in helping me to fuck off... at least not yet. And so soon i devised a new method, one were i'd set the lock on the door so that it didn't lock but would click loudly as soon as someone touched it thus letting me jump up out of the bed i was lounging in and give the facade of labor. I'd also sleep with a towel bar and screwdriver and set the little work cart a few doors down so that hopefully i'd hear if anyone messed with it and since fixing towel bars, which were convienently located on the back of the door, meant i had to shut said door there were no real red flags that i was slacking the day away. Nothing pleases me more than getting paid to sleep.
Yet Lars just couldn't relax and enjoy the fact we were left on our own all day with nothing much to do. At first Lars thought he was going to be the boss or some such shit, a notion that i quickly let him no was not going to fucking happen. For some reason he thought having worked there the previous summer or two gave him some kind of seniority. I somewhat politely let him know that natural selection had put that notion to rest and the fact that was he was a little doggie and i was a big doggie. He soon understood he was not my boss or supervisor or anything other than the nerd i worked with and that this summer could go one of two ways... easy and pleasant... or quite shit... and i let it sink in that the quite shit part wasn't going to be as much for me as it was for him. He stood staring at up at me (i was roughly 9 inches taller than him) while this info seeped into his head.
But i am a crafty bastard and knew that it was better not to alienate my co-worker, in fact what i needed to do was make him understand that he'd been going about this all wrong, that in fact once the system was worked out i had no problem covering for him if he wanted to slack. The seed had been planted now all i had to do was cultivate it, get him to understand we were not about to get in trouble or fired because at the end of the day this was all a show. I explained to him, without any verifiable proof mind you, that the university was most likely subsidized by the state or the feds to run a program like this, it looked good, they were given X amount of money and basically had to spend it by doling it out to the summer help. As long as we kept up appearances and did a minimal amount of work we'd be in the clear. It didn't take long for this seed to take root. In relatively short order, maybe a week or two, Lars was on his way to being an accomplished slacker... problem is when you turn a square on to the world of slacking you have to make sure they don't get carried away and i'll be honest in saying there were times i needed to reign Lars in, which was comical considering the source.
With my Lars problem looking to be about solved i moved on to the next issue at hand. Which lucky ex-girlfriend would i call next? The main problem was logistical, which of my female friends had the time and means to get up to Podunk? Some of course would probably hang up as soon as they heard my voice, a testament to my ability to alienate women, though some of course would entertain the idea before finally laying out my plan to me, saying something like, "oh let me guess, you're lonely and thinking about how maybe you made a mistake and so i can drive to see you for the weekend so we can have sex and then when i leave you'll do or say something shitty like you always do... you're not as charming as you think you asshole." Then i'd hear the click of the receiver. Can't say i'd blame them as they'd be pretty much spot on, though i would have probably added, i'm not gonna do that, i'd at least string it out through the summer... as previously stated, a cad.
And of course who should come to mind? Well when i doubt always go back to the one who called you their "first love." The old high school flame who seemed to harbor the embers of her love in some special place even though i'd proved time and time again that i was a serious fucking shitbag. At times shit is just too easy... and so i picked up the phone and began dialing... (to be cont.)
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