My wife, Laryssa, and I moved to a nice, residential neighborhood after living in the big city for the better part of our relationship. We were a young couple – I had just turned 26, she was about to turn 24, and both of us had nice incomes. With our combined salaries, we were able to afford the house we loved.
Laryssa was way too hot for me, looking like a young Pamela Anderson, while I looked meek and nerdy. Our mismatch got a lot of attention from a wigger thug who lived near us when we lived in the city. His name was Scoopz, and he was the neighborhood alpha male.
I was intimidated by Scoopz. He was a stocky twenty-year-old dude, and you’d often catch him “busting rhymes” with the rest of his homies in front of our condo. He did mean things to me for a laugh. Once he stuck his leg out, seeing me not paying attention as I walked towards my building, and I fell on my face, to a round of laughter. Another time he grabbed me by the hair and tossed me in a pile of smelly garbage bags at the side of our building. Scoops even threw me in a dumpster and locked it – my poor wife had to get me out after I called her inside of it from my cell phone. Scoopz once tried to make a peace-offering, handing me an opened beer and asked me to have a drink with him. I should have known better, because I spit out the first sip I took, realizing I had just tasted his piss. Unfortunately, when I spit, it landed on Scoopz shirt. One would argue that I deserved getting slapped around right after I made that mistake. Unfortunately, getting my ass kicked in front of my girl didn’t exactly make me look very manly in front of her. I never bothered to think what it made Scoopz like in front of her though. I just assumed she saw no more than a big bully like I did when I looked at him.
Your wife, who was alone with your bully for a while, returned with a smile on her face.
Realizing that my torment at the hands of this thug wasn’t going to end, Laryssa took matters into her own hands one day, intending to defend me. She was going to do what I didn’t have the balls to do – to simply ask my bully leave me alone. She left that day angry and came back on cloud nine, a complete 180 in mood swings. When I asked her how her confrontation with Scoopz went, I squirmed when she said I barely came up, which I found odd, as he had been alone with him for a while. When I asked what they did talk about, she seemed lost in thought, before revealing that Scoopz had no intention of leaving me alone. Actually, he assumed I sent my wife to protect myself from him, and even though she denied it, Scoopz told my wife he was going to be harder than ever on me now.
I was confused because Laryssa should have been angry about that, but she was lost in her own little world. When I asked why she was with my bully for so long if they spent so little time talking about me, Laryssa explained that she did, at first, verbally attack the thug, warning him to leave me alone, but Scoopz got in her face and told her he didn’t respond to threats well. He moved closer to her, bullying her body to the point where she was leaning against the wall. Scoopz leaned in, leaning his arm against the wall, and told my wife things didn’t have to be bad between the two of them, in fact, he had hoped they could be friends. My wife was taken with the big wigger’s demeanor, reaching out her hand to formally introduce herself. From there, they walked back to a bench in a nearby park and got to know one another better. My wife was presenting me with all this information like a teen girl in the 60’s would talk about meeting one of the Beatles.
I was flabbergasted, as my wife was making friends with my bully. I asked her if she had considered how that would make me feel. I’ll never forget how wimpy her answer made me feel.
“Honestly, babe,” Laryssa said to me, finally breaking out of whatever hypnotic state Scoopz had her in. “If you want your bully to stop picking on you, you’re going to have to man up and do something about it yourself.”
She wasn’t wrong, and she wasn’t trying to be cruel either. Those were the words I needed to hear, and to hear them coming from the woman I loved really hit hard. I had to do something to stop Scoopz from bullying me, but I didn’t know what. Words proved to be futile. Kindness was rewarded with humiliation. The cops were out of the question, as there was no proof he had done anything to me. I had no friends who could stand up to him. The only thing I could do was endure whatever he put me through until I thought of a way to end my bullying torment.
My Wife Began an Inappropriate Friendship with My Bully
Life went on after Laryssa and Scoopz met for the first time, but in all-new directions. They made a point of talking to each other often, either in person, over the phone or by text. Laryssa would be lying next to me in bed but texting him while I tried to sleep. She would get some sun in the backyard with me, but talk to him on her cell while we did. She was more outgoing, no doubt going to see him, almost every day. It got to the point where I had to tell her how neglected she was making me feel. Laryssa was defiant, unwilling to lose her new friend, reacting like I was trying to limit her social life. I tried to explain that I wasn’t saying something to be possessive, but my wife wasn’t hearing it, and just like that, I began sleeping on the couch for the night. And then the night after that. And the night after that, too.
I couldn’t do anything to stop the blossoming friendship between my wife and my bully, so all I could do was, once again, endure it.
The subsequent Friday night, I came home late from work, surprised to see Laryssa gone for the night. She came home about an hour after I did with a look of guilt on her face, and acting rather exhausted. Laryssa was one to pretty herself up before she went out, so her state of disarray was intriguing. Her hair looked messy, her lipstick smeared, her makeup looked like it was running and several areas of her clothes seemed ripped, perhaps intentionally torn. When I asked where she went, my wife revealed she had attended a house party at Scoopz place, and was by his side the entire night, not knowing anyone else but his wigger buddies and fellow thugs. I asked if she was okay, and she told me she was great, that it was a fun night, but that her newfound party days were over. Laryssa told me that she realized she wasn’t being a responsible wife, and that she had decided to end her friendship with my bully.
I told her I was happy to hear her say that, very modestly. Inside my head, I was doing cartwheels. No more Scoopz! Finally, we could move on without the thug in either of their lives.
Except it wasn’t going to be that easy. When Laryssa texted him that she couldn’t see him anymore, Scoopz told her that wasn’t her decision to make.
“You’re one of my girls now, bitch.” My bully texted my wife. “I’ll let you know when I’m done with your ass.”
Laryssa told him that she had to make a choice for her own sake, that she was having too much fun with him, but she could not see him anymore. Much to our surprise, Scoopz was willing to “let her go”.
“Whatever, bitch.” His last text to her read. “You’ll be back. I promise you’ll be begging for my big dick in the near future.”
“You’ll be back.” My bully said to my wife. I promise, you’ll be begging for my big dick in the near future.”
I asked Laryssa what he was talking about, and why he would have thought she was one of his “girls”? I was assuming he was referring to whoever was the newest girl he had by his side when I would see him at times. Did my wife lead him on? Poor Scoopz, I thought to myself. I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to be around my girl, she was the hottest girl likely either one of us had ever seen.
To my relief, Scoopz left the both of us alone afterward. He didn’t approach either one of us when seeing us on the street, he barely even looked our way. It was like we were beneath him. Such a cold shoulder seemed to have an effect on my wife though. Scoopz wasn’t trying to avoid us, or even intentionally not look at us. He simply didn’t care about us one way or another now. We were just background to him, and Laryssa was hurt by that, even though it was her who ended their friendship.
Six months later, my wife and I were ready to move to our brand-new house, hiring a moving company we found online. The movers were to meet us at our new house, as everything we owned had been boxed up and placed in a room in our condo, ready for pick-up. When the movers arrived at our new place, they rang the doorbell, and when I opened the door, my heart skipped a beat. One of the movers was Scoopz.
“Whoa-ho-ho!” Scoopz said, smiling down at me. “Look who it is!”
“Oh, hey Scoopz,” I said, swallowing hard.
“It’s Sir,” Scoopz said, smacking my cheek a couple of times, making the other mover beside him snicker. “We’re not on a fist name basis, faggot.”
“You still married to that piece of ass?”
“Bring the bitch down here.”
I tried to shut the door to summon Laryssa, but Scoopz just flung the door open with his forearm and walked right into our new place, his work boots tracking mud all over the new flooring. When my wife came down the stairs and saw her old wigger friend, she had the same look on her face I did. But instead of fear, her expression went from surprise to excitement.
The two of them hugged, and my wife had no problem with Scoopz’s sweat touching her skin when they embraced. As the two of them made small talk, the other mover stepped outside and lit up a cigarette on our front porch. I awkwardly shuffled beside him.
“That your wife, dude?” The mover said to me.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Damn, she’s hot, bro.”
“I know. Thanks.”
Scoopz walked over to the mover and I and instructed us to start bringing in boxes.
“Alright, you two can start unloading boxes,” Scoopz said to us, thumbing over his shoulder to the moving van.
“Where you gonna be?” The mover asked Scoopz, stomping his cigarette out on my deck.
“Where do you think?” Scoopz replied to him with a wink, unbuckling his belt.
“Scoopz, I’m paying you guys to move,” I said, nervously.
“Just lift the damn boxes, you could use the exercise,” Scoopz said to me, pinching my bicep. “Don’t come upstairs for a while, either.”
Before I could say another word, Scoopz walked inside my new house, and just before he shut the door in my face, I caught his hands unzipping his shorts.
“Relax, bro.” The mover tried to reassure me. “Your girl’s in good hands with Scoopz.”
Your Bully is Prolific. He Did Say Your Wife Would Beg Him.
I walked over to the moving van and began carrying items into the house. I felt so puny sweating and struggling to lift a box at a time, while the other mover was carrying multiple boxes effortlessly. I could hear the voices of Scoopz and Laryssa from the upstairs windows, which were wide open. After a while, voices were replaced with heavy breaths, and eventually, the pounding of something against the wall. I tried to run into the house to see if Laryssa was okay, but the other mover grabbed my arm.
“Don’t cockblock Scoopz, dude.” He said to me, letting go of my arm and pointing up to the window. “Your girl’s fine, listen.”
He was right. Whatever was happening upstairs, it was making Laryssa giggle. I could hear Scoopz talking before she would laugh as well. It wasn’t long before I could hear substantial commotion upstairs again, though. Scoopz and Laryssa had gone from friendly banter to aggressive shuffling. When I entered the house to drop off a box, I could hear Scoopz shouting behind a closed door. He was being authoritative towards her, perhaps instructing her to do something, or guiding her to do it how he wanted her to. I knew better than to be nosy, so I continued unloading the moving van with the other mover until there was nothing left inside of it. By the time we were done, the noises on the second floor had ceased as well.
Scoopz came down about five minutes later, zipping up his shorts and yanking down his t-shirt as he walked down the stairs. He saw that I was a sweaty mess from doing all the heavy lifting, and once again, smacked me on the cheeks a few times.
“Good job, buddy.” He said, chuckling to himself, pulling out a pack of smokes and lighting up a cigarette right in front of me.
“Scoopz, you can’t smoke in here,” I said, as he lit up and blew smoke in my face.
“Because it’s my house, and I say so.”
Big mistake. Scoopz grabbed the front of my t-shirt and yanked me towards him.
“Gimmie that tone again, faggot.” He said to me with a raised eyebrow. “I fuckin’ dare ya.”
“Just…can you smoke outside, please?” I asked meekly. “We just bought the house, Sir.”
Scoopz nodded his head and showed some respect to that.
“Fair enough, faggot.” He said walking out the door. “That’ll be $700.00.”
“What?!” I asked, astounded on so many levels. He wanted to be paid $200 more than I had agreed to, and he didn’t even move anything into my house. Scoopz walked up to me, backing me up against the wall.
“I said that’ll be $800.00.”
“Are you…?! You just said $700!” I held up six $100 bills.
“That was before you got lippy with me. I was doing you a favor by shaving off a hundred, but now I’m going to add another $200.”
“You want me out of here?” Another exhalation of smoke hit me in my face.
“Then give me my $1000 and I’ll be gone.”
“Scoopz, I did all the heavy lifting, and I agreed to $600 with the moving company.”
“And they’ll be getting $600. I’ll be keeping the extra bills. Fag-tax, and all that.”
“I’m not…. I don’t have that much cash.”
“Fine.” He said, dropping his cigarette on my floor and stomping it out. “I’ll be back here next week to collect the rest of it.”
“Please don’t,” I begged. “Please don’t do this.”
“You want me back here? Your wife does, you know.”
“I want you to leave me alone.”
“I’m going to keep coming back here unless you pay me not to.”
“$400 and you’ll never come back?”
“Scoopz, I can’t afford it.”
“No problem.” He said, walking out the door, collecting the $600 from my hand. “I didn’t think you would cave in to me anyways. I was just having some fun with you.”
“Oh…ha-ha.” I laughed nervously. “Got me.”
“Shut up, faggot,” Scoopz said, one foot out the door. “You couldn’t pay me enough to not come back here anyways.”
“Just tell your wife I’ll by tomorrow after my shift. I’ll be sweaty so I’ll probably shower here.”
“Yessss!” Scoopz laughed. “Make yourself scarce when I’m around. I like your place a lot, so you’re gonna see a lot more of me around here.”
“Later, homo,” Scoopz said, dismissing me, and finally leaving, seemingly bragging to the other mover about something on his way out.
My wife walked down the stairs just as the movers left, buttoning up her blouse and looking at me with a familiar guilty look on her face. We looked at each other in silence, both thinking the same thing. Scoopz was back in our lives, and this time, and it looked like he was sticking around.
“He’s coming back tomorrow,” I said to Laryssa, defeated.
“I know, I invited him to.” She replied, smiling, a radiant glow on her face.
“He said he would only come back if I begged him to…”
“Are you kidding me?!”
“Your bully is prolific. He did say that’s exactly what would happen.”
“Why would you beg him to come back? We were free of him!”
“I’m gonna have a shower, honey. You should too afterward, you’re a sweaty mess.”
Laryssa walked away from me, oblivious to my comments or reaction. As she walked away, I had noticed she was roughed up a little, like she had just been thrown around on a mechanical bull. I was the one doing the heavy lifting, what excuse did she have for working up a sweat while upstairs with Scoopz?