You Wanna Hang Out?

This story is a pre-pandemic one, and a little creepier, but it’s also one of the most insane collection of words that I've ever read, so I am duty-bound to bring it to you, details intact.

At the time, C was a 17-year-old “prominent weed smoker.” She mostly gets her weed from D, a 20-something year-old man, who is, by her account, phenomenally sketchy. D is always asking C if she wants to hang out with him. Ya know, like sketchy dudes do. C describes herself as going through a nihilistic, lonely period, so she agrees to hang out with D one day. C is not exactly aware that D considers this a date. C is not aware that she’s about to enter the worst David Lynch rip off I've ever heard, but without any of the fun surrealism.

D talks a lot about himself. C remembers him as an intense narcissist, talking himself up as someone who came from nothing, while not really asking C anything about herself. D says that he is currently wanted in both Saudi Arabia and in America. C is pretty sure he is lying about Saudi Arabia. It is a very obscure place to be wanted in, to be fair.

D takes C to Ballwin, Missouri. Balwin, Missouri, if you were not aware, is where meth goes to die. After regaling her with this fake tale of Saudi Arabian crime, they pull up into a tiny house. Inside, C is introduced to three men in their sixties, one of whom she is pretty sure was named Papa Don. There is a dog named Betty wandering around.

The three old men are all taking dabs, there’s that weird little blow torch that dab guys always have sitting on the table. D takes this moment to disappear. C is left in this room, with three 60 year old men who are talking about their dead pets.

This story gets weirder. I know this is a really strange image to give to you. I just wanted to check in with you before we continue. It’s all going to be okay. C is having a really nice life. She was laughing when she told me about this.

So at this point, it’s been a half-hour, and C is wondering where D is. Like anyone in this situation would, she wants to leave. C goes looking for D, and finds him in a room in the back of the house, which is quote “covered in girls.” Like ten of them. Like C, they are all teenagers. C recognizes one of the girls as a girl she had previously texted “No one else will tell you this, but you’re drawing your eyebrows too thick.”
Still good? Rad, because this isn’t the peak.

C asks D if they can leave this trainwreck, and D agrees. While they’re in the car together, C opens D’s center console. There are three pistols inside. Three pistols. I know this is really scary that this girl is in a car with three pistols, but also who has three pistols on them? That’s a useless amount of pistols. Even two pistols is ridiculous in practice. Are you going to drop the pistol, and then retrieve another pistol like you’re in the Matrix? That doesn’t make any sense! Just reload the first pistol! You’re already taking time to fire one pistol? I don’t know. This is where I really lost it. I still can’t get past this. It keeps me up at night. It’s ruined me. I’m ruined, dude.

D takes C to another house that has a few teenagers, a few folding chairs, and no other furniture. She is confused about what kind of date this is, because she is a reasonable person. The rest of the date is uneventful. At the time, she was working at a Journey's shoe store. D asks her if he can use her employee discount to buy his sister a pair of shoes. The next day, he comes in to buy a pair of women's sneakers, presumably for his sister.

C hasn’t heard from D for a while, but she’s pretty sure he is now in jail. She’s doing great though. She has a nice boyfriend and a skateboard now.