Somebody is in serious hot water!

A silly guy friend with an uncontrollable libido that would shame men half his age (one wife, a girlfriend, and several casual sex buddies, not to mention the occasional swing party or two – wow I felt as if I’d just sang a countdown to Christmas) is finally paying the price for thinking with the wrong head.

He’d been discreetly consorting with a variety of women from a nationally recognized cheaters site and one of his more recent conquests, an Eastern European woman stuck with a kid in a loveless marriage, has decided to shake him down for some hush money.

“Help me!” he pleaded over the phone.  “I have no information on her!  What do I do?”

“How much does she want?” I asked.

“A thousand dollars.”

“A thousand dollars?  She can’t aim higher?” I joked.

“She knows everything about me and I’ve got nothing on her,” he went on, ignoring my last comment.  “She’s threatening to out me to my family!”

“I’m not going to say I told you so,” I reminded him.  “But—”

“Just help me!” he interrupted.  “I’m desperate!”  I finally got serious as he went into detail about her life which left much to be desired because he didn’t know jack shit.  And then it occurred to me.

“She’s got a kid, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We should narrow down the daycare and from there—if you’re right, that is —you should follow her to her home address.  Or you could confront her in the parking lot and make her paranoid enough to think you might walk into her kid’s school and out her there.”

“That’s a great idea!” he said, breathing a sigh of relief.  And that’s exactly what he did.  Come Monday he drove to what he had pinpointed as the most logical choice and to his amazement he spotted her car!  Nervous and excited, he tailed her on the road, even following her on a quick stop to the grocery store.  It was a matter of time before she finally realized she was being followed and called him on his cell.

“Are you stalking me?” she asked, checking her rear view mirror again.

“Nope. I’m just gathering intel.”

“Wait,” I interrupted as he recounted the story to me this afternoon.  “You used your own car?”

“Yeah,” he admitted.  “I should have used a rental.”

“You need to brush up on your detective skills, you know that?  Anyway, what happened?”

“She kept me on the phone until she pulled into a police station.  I told her she didn’t want to go there.”

“That’s great!” I said.  “She probably thinks you know where she lives, too!  Now you don’t have to pay her anything!”

There was a long silence.  “I’m still going to pay her.”

“What?  But why?” I demanded.  “That’s nuts!”

“Can you believe she told me I have more to lose than her because she’s only got one kid?  What kind of fucked up thinking is that?” he mused.

“As fucked up as thinking you need to pay her off!” I scolded.

“Look, I’m going to deliver the money and be rid of this bitch forever.”

He’s still not thinking with the right head.