"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."
Sun Tzu


Alice told me she wanted to come with me, but that she would need $100 worth of dope for every day we were away from her drug dealer. Each bag of heroin cost $10. She needed to shoot up at least 3 bags at a time, 3 times a day. That's 9 bags a day. The 10th bag was kind of a bonus.

She said without $100 of heroin a day, she'd get terribly dope sick and the whole trip would be ruined. We were going to be in Hawaii for 10 days, so she needed to pack $1000 worth of her medicine. Yeah, she seriously called it her medicine.

It didn't even occur to me that if I got caught at the airport with her, while she's smuggling $1000 worth of heroin on board, I would be going to prison for a long long time. I just wanted her to have a good time, and show her how nice life could be sober. Don't ask me why showing her how nice sober life could be involved $1000 worth of heroin. It seemed to make sense at the time. Shut up.

When we arrived at the airport, she stuffed the heroin between her legs. It was a LOT of heroin, so she had a hard time walking. But we made it. The TSA officer at the metal detector even tried to flirt with her, while we were sweating bullets.

We had so much fun in Honolulu. We stayed at the Outrigger hotel, right on the beach. Every day was filled with fancy filet mignon dinners at nice restaurants, Broadway-like shows, a helicopter tour of the island, a submarine tour of the ocean floor, massages at the spa, shopping trips, etc. We even visited Dog The Bounty Hunter.

There was a little gift shop next to his office. Alice talked to his employee for a few minutes. We ended up buying Dog's book, hand-signed by him. The employee in the gift shop told Alice that there was a really bad ice (crystal meth) problem on Hawaii. And then he told her that she should never start doing drugs. She gave me a look and smirked. She thought it was funny that a guy who should have a keen eye for who's on drugs and who isn't, couldn't tell that she was a heroin addict. And she really didn't look like an addict at all.

Anyway, we had a great time in Hawaii. One day she skipped across the street like a little girl and said that being here with me was the happiest she had ever been in her life. That made me feel really good. I figured, if this doesn't give her a good reason to get clean, then nothing will.

When we got back to New York, she called her roommates in Middletown to let them know she was back. I still didn't know that she was living with this dope boy Curly and his little crew of drug selling thugs.

She had told me she was living in a two bedroom apartment with a young lesbian couple. But I started to get that feeling again that she was lying to me about something. Especially when we drove from the airport to her house in Middletown, and she didn't want me to drop her off right in front of her house and help her carry all her bags in.

Instead, she asked me to drop her off one block down the street from her house, and she said she would carry everything herself. She was tiny, and her bags full of goodies from Hawaii probably weighed more than she did. That's when I knew something was up. I asked her who she was living with. She insisted it was only her in one bedroom, and those two girls who were dating each other were supposedly living in the other bedroom.

When I got back to my house in the woods near Milford, I just needed to know the truth, so I hacked her laptop in her house and turned on the camera on it, so I could see who was in the house with her. There were two girls, but also a couple of black guys. Now I knew she had been lying to me again. Then I saw that she and Curly were living in one of the bedrooms together. What the fuck?!?

I was sooo pissed at her. I texted her that I knew about her living with Curly and fucking him, and that I wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Lying whore! I didn't talk to her for a few days after that.

But I couldn't stop thinking about her, and I did keep track of what was going on in that trap house. A few days later, one of the two lesbian girls in the house was chatting with her sister who lived out-of-state but was going to come for a visit. Her sister was asking about who else was living in that house. So the lesbian girl mentioned Alice. Her sister asked who Alice was, and the lesbian girl, who was supposedly Alice's good friend, told her sister: "She's nobody. Just one of Curly's hoes."

The fact that one of Alice's so-called friends would talk about her like she's worthless garbage hurt my feelings, even though I was still so pissed at her. I felt protective of her, because I really cared about her.

I fucking hated all these people in that house. In my mind, they were the reason why Alice was on drugs and why she couldn't tear herself away from that shit, no matter how much nicer sober life could be. As long as she lived in that place, she was never going to get clean.

After we hadn't talked to each other in a few days, Alice suddenly started texting me and told me she needed my help. She said she had a huge fight with Curly and the rest of his crew, and she told them all to move out. She said they had tried to kick her out, but her name was the one that was on the lease, so they couldn't get rid of her, but she could get rid of them.

I thought that was great news. I figured, once all these assholes are out of that house, maybe there's a chance I could convince her to get clean.

She told me she had asked them to leave tonight, but Curly had paid this month's rent as well as the initial security deposit, and he wasn't going to leave, unless she gave him $2000. So I met up with her and gave her the money. Yes, I know now how stupid that was. But it seemed like the only right thing to do at the time.

After I gave Alice the $2000, I didn't hear from her anymore for a few days. I was getting so pissed again. I felt like she totally played me. Finally she did return my texts. Turns out, that same night she had reconciled with Curly, and he didn't move out, and she just spent the $2000 on a whole bunch of heroin.

I didn't talk to her for a few days. I was getting so disgusted.

Suddenly she started texting me again, because there was new drama. Curly's crew had come home after selling drugs all day, when suddenly some other crew held them up at gunpoint in the parking lot right outside their house and took all their money.

Now Curly and his crew were scared, because they didn't know how the other crew found out where they lived, and they didn't feel safe in that house anymore.

Did I have anything to do with that? Did I tell the other crew where Curly lived? Maybe. Possibly. Alright, yes, I did. I wanted that motherfucker out of that house and away from Alice.

And the fight that had happened a few days earlier was because when Alice and I went to Hawaii, she had told Curly that she was going to Hawaii with her grandma Gina.

But I texted the lesbian girl who had talked shit about Alice to her sister, and I told her that Alice had been in Hawaii with me. The lesbian girl told Curly, and he flipped out. That's why he had told Alice to leave. That plan backfired royally, because it ended up costing me $2000. Fail!

But the fact that another crew now knew where Curly lived scared the shit out of him and he really did move out. Mission accomplished! And the beautiful part was that Curly had no idea that I had anything to do with it. Like ninjas, hackers like to attack from the shadows.

Alice didn't want to put the next house in her name again, because the other people in the house had totally run it into the ground, and she didn't want to be responsible for the damage. I asked her if she wanted to come live with me and go to rehab. No, of course not.

She had met another latin dope boy. He called himself Tattoo. He gave her drugs, so she went to live with him. I was so sick and tired of this shit at this point, that I decided to just be done with it and move to Florida.

I told a realtor to list my house in the Poconos for sale, and then I told Alice that I was leaving for good. I was hoping that would mean something to her, and she'd try to stop me or come with me or something. But, nope, she was too busy getting high.

I figured she'll never have any reason to get clean as long as Tattoo keeps feeding her drugs. Maybe if I got rid of Tattoo as well, and being an addict became more and more difficult for Alice because all the dope boys she knew were getting arrested, she might finally want to get clean.

Have you ever played out one of those fantasy fights in your head? You know, who would win a fight between Superman and The Hulk? Well, in a fight between a hacker and a dope boy, the hacker wins every time, because he can hit the dope boy without even being in the same state.

After the house in the Poconos sold, I moved into one of my houses in Lehigh Acres, Florida. While I was down there, I hacked into Tattoo's phone. When I heard him talking about driving from Middletown to the Bronx to re-up, I called the Sheriff's Department and told them what car he was driving, and when he was going to be back in Middletown, and that he would have a brick of heroin in his car.

They had cruisers on standby waiting for him. I could track the location of his phone, so when he was coming back from his trip to the Bronx to stock up on his drug inventory, I called the cops back and gave the Sheriff's drug task force a heads up. They were able to intercept him at the highway off-ramp. Tattoo went to prison. Another one bites the dust!

After Tattoo was out of the picture, Alice called me. She told me that Tattoo had gotten arrested, and I acted surprised. She said now she was staying with her friend Mary, another heroin addicted hooker. Mary's drug habit was even worse than Alice's. Alice shot up 3 bags of heroin at a time. Mary shot up 8 bags at a time.

In order to support her very expensive habit, Mary worked double shifts in a grimey little strip club just outside of Middletown. And while she worked there, she would try to find guys who would come home with her after work, to have sex with her for money.

Mary had a 12-year-old little boy, Mikey. I got to know him a little better a few months later, when Alice and I babysat him, while his mother was stripping. He was just a little kid, but he already knew all about heroin, and that he had to lie about it, if anyone at school or from Child Protective Services asked him about it. Mikey knew that his mom took her clothes off for money. She even tried on her stripper outfits in front of him. And he knew that his mom had a lot of male friends who gave her money. How sad is that? Mikey was so messed up in the head.

One time, when Alice and I babysat him, he was playing some video game on my cell phone. He couldn't get past a level, so he was getting really frustrated and became totally unhinged. He started screaming, threw my phone on the ground and kept punching the couch. He is not going to have an easy life when he gets older, if he can't get his anger under control. He'll probably end up on drugs like his mom, or in prison like his dad.

Anyway, after Tattoo got arrested, Alice was now staying with Mary, but she hated it there, because Mary spent all her money on drugs, so her dirty little basement apartment had no electricity, no heat and no running water. They were basically living in a cave, like animals.

Alice called me and told me she was miserable and asked me if she could still come live with me. I said, yes, of course. But now I no longer had a place up north.

She asked if she could find a nice apartment in Middletown for us, and I could pay for it with a credit card over the phone, and she could start living there, until I come back from Florida. So that's what we did. She picked a 2-bedroom apartment in a condo development called The Regency. It was the nicest neighborhood in Middletown.

When I came back from Florida, we went furniture shopping at Ashley. It was a very nice condo, and once we decorated it, it really felt like home.

Things were finally going good between us. We were happy together.

Alice asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I told her all I wanted was for her to go to rehab, get clean and get a passport, so that we could travel to Europe together.

I was going to go to Europe for Christmas in a few weeks, and I wanted her to come with me. But I didn't want to have to smuggle thousands of dollars worth of heroin across the Atlantic, and I didn't want Alice to do drugs at my parents' house.

Of course she didn't get clean. So I was going to have to go to Germany alone. Alice was going to stay home and we were going to talk on the phone every day. I left her with $2100. $100 for each day that I was going to be gone, so that she wouldn't have to sell her body to get drugs. I made her promise that she wasn't going to sneak around my back, that she wasn't going to post any escort ads on Backpage, and that she wasn't going to fuck any dope boys for drugs.

She looked me straight in the eye and swore that I could trust her. She told me she didn't want to fuck things up between us, and she didn't want to hurt me, that she was never going to lie to me again and that she was going to show me that I can really trust her to do the right thing from now on.

I was happy, because I could tell she was totally sincere, and she really meant what she said. (Stop laughing.)

So off to Germany I went. When I got there, I called her to let her know I landed safe and sound. But she didn't answer the phone. Hmm.

She had told me that while I was going to be gone, she was going to ask her best friend Kat if she wanted to have a sleep over. That way Alice wouldn't feel so alone. She swore they wouldn't do anything bad, just watch movies.

Kat and Alice had known each other for four or five years, and they had even lived together for a long time. They were almost like a married couple, even though each of them had been dating a guy while they were living together.

Patty the counselor had told me that a lot of drug addicted girls end up "dating" a dope boy, or some guy who gives them money, to feed their drug habit. But since they have been abused by guys so much, they feel they can't really relate to a guy on an emotional level. Their emotions have been so crippled by the things they had to do for drugs.

So a lot of these girls end up dating other drug addicted girls, because they feel they are the only people in the world who understand what they're going through. They think that only a crackwhore can really understand what another crackwhore is going through. So they feel like kindred spirits, and they end up dating, even when they're not really gay. They just need to feel close to someone emotionally, and they can't do that with men, because men are their enemies and their prey. Men either use them for sex, or they use men to get money or drugs. To drug addicted girls, who have to sell their bodies to survive, men are nothing more than wallets with dicks, Patty said.

I read in a German article about prostitution, that it takes years of therapy for a girl who has been a hooker, to learn to trust a man again, and have a normal relationship with him.

So, Kat and Alice had kinda been dating and living together like a married couple in the past, while each of them also had a boyfriend. They were two peas in a pod. They had met each other while they were both working for the same escort agency. They were both drug addicts, had both been abused by their parents and boyfriends, and they had posted escort ads on Backpage together in the past.

Alice had told me that drug addicted hookers like to post ads for threesomes, or "doubles" as they call it, because when there are two girls in a strange guy's hotel room, they feel a little bit safer, and there is always the chance one of them might have the opportunity to rob the "client" while he has sex with the other girl. And it's easier when two girls can split the work of making a guy cum.

I really wasn't crazy about Alice hanging out with Kat while I was gone, but I didn't want to be oppressively jealous and tell her what she can and cannot do, and she had promised me she'd be good. Now all I could do is trust her.

But I didn't. When she didn't answer the phone when I called after landing in Germany, I had a nagging feeling in my stomach. I knew she was up to no good.

I checked Backpage and found their ad. As soon as I had left, Kat came over, and the first thing they did was post an escort ad on Backpage. They took pictures of themselves in their underwear on my bed. So now my bed was on Backpage. Nice.

I was sooo hurt and upset. How the fuck could Alice do that to me? She looked me straight in the eye when she swore she was going to be good, and then the first chance she got, she betrayed me. What the fuck?!? It's like she couldn't cheat on me quickly enough.

I used one of my fake email accounts to reply to her and Kat's escort ad and set up a date with them, just to make sure they were really doing this shit, and really going through with it. They didn't know it was me. I pretended to be some guy who lived on the other side of town. We made plans for me to come to the apartment and fuck both of them. So not only was she cheating on me after I had given her all that money, she was doing it in my own damn bed!

I hated her so fucking much at that moment. Finally I called her and told her that guy they just set up a date with was really me. I told her I wanted nothing to do with her anymore, and she needed to be out of the apartment by the time I get back from Germany.

When I got back to Middletown three weeks later, she wasn't there. I guess she was staying at hotels, tricking. Or maybe she was staying with the next dope boy. Who knows. I wanted nothing to do with her anymore. I was so disgusted by her. What a soulless snake she was!

A week or two later, Alice suddenly called me and told me Kat was really dope sick, and that one of Kat's dates had stood her up, so now she had no money to get heroin. Alice asked me if I would do a date with Kat, have sex with her and give her money for drugs. I said no, of course not: "Fuck you, and fuck Kat. I'm sure as hell not going to have sex with your best friend."

Then Alice replied that Kat was really really sick, and if I wanted to, I could have sex with both of them. I told her no. Then Alice said: "What about if only I come, and we talk and try to fix things between us? Will you let me borrow some money so I can give it to Kat?"

I said no.

Another week or two later I found out that ever since I had told Alice to leave, she had been dating the next latin dope boy. He called himself Papi Chuloco. They were living in cheap motel rooms together, and he was pimping her out. It made me sick to think about it.

I wanted Alice to know how I felt. I thought maybe it would make me feel better, if I could make her jealous.

So I texted Alice and asked her for Kat's number. I told her that ever since I had seen those pictures on Backpage a few weeks ago, of Kat on my bed in her underwear, I couldn't stop thinking about her, and I would really like to know what it's like to fuck her.

Alice was pissed! She texted back that she wasn't going to give me Kat's number. She said I should get it myself, if I really wanted to fuck her that bad. She really did get jealous! And a bit later, she texted me again and told me that she misses me and that she wanted to get together and talk.

But right after she had told me to find Kat's number myself, I looked up her number online. I texted Kat and told her who I was, and asked her if she wanted to come over and have sex. She texted back: "Sure, hun, I'll be there in a few minutes."

Then, a little while later, Alice texted me that she missed me and wanted to talk. Sure. I hadn't heard from her in a while, because she was so busy fucking Papi Chuloco and all these guys on Backpage, but now that I told her I wanted to have sex with Kat, NOW Alice suddenly missed me. Of course. I told her she could come in an hour or two. I wanted her to get to my apartment, while Kat was here, to really get under Alice's skin. But drug addicts are notoriously unreliable. They never show up on time. So Alice didn't come over until many hours later.

In the meantime, Kat came over. She was a lot taller than Alice. She had olive skin, long black hair, and she looked Sicilian. She wore a pair of those huge sunglasses and a tight black dress, and she carried an expensive Coach purse. She looked classy and stylish.

We went into the bedroom and sat down and talked. I was in no rush, because I wanted her to still be there when Alice came. Kat was in no rush either. She told me that she had heard a lot about me from Alice, and she had wanted to meet me for quite a while.

She told me that she and Alice had been best friends for a long time and that they had been through a lot of terrible things together. Kat knew that I was aware of her and Alice's drug problem, so she felt no need to hide anything.

We talked for hours. I told her how heartbroken I was over the shit Alice kept doing, and that she was with some stupid latin dope boy again. Kat told me she had met Papi Chuloco a few times already, and that he was a dumb caveman, who treated Alice like shit. She said he was very abusive, and a few nights ago, Alice had called Kat for help, because Papi was beating the shit out of her again and she hoped he would stop if someone else was around.

Kat told me she heard a lot of good things about me, and that Alice told her I always treated her very nice, and that she had really liked living with me and going to places like Hawaii. It almost started to sound like Alice had instructed Kat to say these things, so that I would forgive Alice.

But the conversation took an unexpected turn, when Kat suddenly told me that she wished she had a guy like me in her life. She told me that she would never treat me as bad as Alice treated me. She said if I gave her a chance, she would show me that she could be a much better girlfriend than Alice ever was.

Kat stripped naked and asked me to take my clothes off and lie on my stomach. She started to give me a massage and asked me what kind of sex I liked, and what kind of things Alice did for me in bed. Then she asked me to turn around, and she began to suck my dick.

She always wore long black lace gloves, even while she had sex or slept. They looked sexy, but the real reason why she wore them was because, like Alice, she shot up in the back of her hands. But she didn't just shoot up heroin. She shot up cocaine too, and it caused really bad abscesses on the back of her hands. She didn't want anyone to see them.

After we had sex, I told her that really the only reason I had called her was to make Alice jealous. Kat didn't mind. She said she had a feeling that that's why I called her, but she was ok with that.

I told her that after the pain I had just been through with Alice, I would be crazy to date her best friend, someone who has exactly the same kind of drug problem, and does exactly the same thing to make money. It would be like dating a clone of Alice.

Kat replied that comparing Alice to Kat was like comparing a cockroach to a swan. Yeah, she literally called her so-called best friend a cockroach, after she had sex with her best-friend's boyfriend or ex-boyfriend or whatever I was to Alice at that moment. Nice friend, huh?

Over the next few years, after meeting a few more drug addicts, I learned that a drug addict really has no friends. Sure, they hang out with a bunch of drug buddies, and they all pretend to be best friends, and they all tell each other how much they supposedly love each other, but they all will sell each other out in a heartbeat. A drug addict has no loyalties to anyone. Every person they meet is just a means to getting the next fix somehow.

Kat and I talked for about five or six hours. She was clearly trying to lay the groundwork for a relationship. She was not going to leave, until she was sure she had her foot in the door with me.

She finally left at night, when she had to get her next fix. About half an hour later Alice finally came over. We hadn't seen each other in a few weeks. As soon as she walked in, I realized how much I missed her. And the first thing she realized was that something was wrong.

"Someone was here," she said.

I played stupid. I had no idea how she knew that. Women's intuition I guess. Maybe something about the tone of my voice, or a guilty look on my face, had given it away.

We went in the bedroom, and took our clothes off. She spread her legs for me and I got on top of her. Suddenly she yelled: "Oh my God!! Mary was here! You had sex with Mary! I can smell her perfume on you!"

I told her no, that Kat just left half an hour ago, and that Alice was obviously confusing their perfumes.

She demanded to know what Kat did at our condo and why I smelled like her perfume. So I told her. Alice was livid. She was sooo upset and jealous. She was pacing back and forth, ranting and raving, while gesturing wildly. She was a woman scorned! She swore she would beat the shit out of Kat, if she ever saw her again. Then she lay down next to me, spread her legs again and said: "I want you to cum inside of me."

While I was inside of her, she was giving me dirty looks. The pressure was on. Somehow I knew that if I couldn't cum now, because I just had sex with Kat a little while earlier, it would make Alice even more angry. As if making me cum was HER job and hers alone.

They used to be best friends for years, but now this one incident ended their friendship. Alice never talked to Kat again after that day, because she felt so betrayed.

Funny how it didn't even register in her brain that she had been hurting me like that the whole time with the shit she did. In her head there was nothing wrong with her staying with Papi Chuloco and having sex with him for drugs, and letting him pimp her out and having sex with all these other people. But me having sex with Kat was suddenly an earth shattering catastrophe. Pretty bizarre, especially considering that she had actually asked me to have sex with Kat a few weeks earlier, when Kat was dope sick.

We started hanging out a few times a week again after that night. But she was still living in hotel rooms with Papi. Mary and her little son Mikey ended up living in the same room with them. Alice and Mary had pretty much the same relationship as Alice and Kat had in the past. They were almost like a married couple, and they posted ads on Backpage together.

Papi had heard stories about me and knew who I was. When he found out that Alice was hanging out with me again all the time, instead of tricking with random strangers, he beat the shit out of her. He was ok with her having sex with strangers, or even with her regulars, but he didn't want her hanging out with me. I guess because he knew that she had feelings for me, or because he was worried that she would decide to come live with me again.

Every time Alice came over to the apartment, and Papi called her phone, she pretended to be somewhere else. She was scared not to answer the phone when he called, because she knew he would beat her because of it when she got back.

I remember one time, when we were in bed together, she was sitting on my lap, riding my dick, when Papi called. She answered the phone while we were having sex. He asked where she was, and she lied and told him she was sitting in a hotel room, waiting for a "client" but that he didn't show up yet. It was just so bizarre to me that he was ok with her having sex with "clients" but not with me.

Every time we got together, I asked her how she was feeling. And every time she said the same thing: "I'm fine." She was so emotionally closed off. She was hiding her pain behind a wall. Every time I saw her, it took a while, until she was comfortable enough to open up. To her, being honest about how she really felt wasn't easy. Having emotions, being sad or crying, was considered a weakness in her world. But the truth is, it takes courage to allow yourself to open up and be vulnerable.

She never wanted anyone to know how miserable she really was. For what? What would anyone who cares about her say if she told them she was miserable with her life? They would tell her to change her life. And a drug addict does not want to hear that. It really really annoys them when you keep telling them that their lives would be so much better if they quit those damn drugs and stopped doing all those horrible things they need to do to get drugs.

It's not like they're stupid and they don't know that the drugs and that lifestyle is making them miserable. The problem is that they are so addicted, they can't stop. You might as well tell someone in a wheelchair that he would be a lot happier if he got up and walked. He knows that, but he can't.

So, first she would say: "I'm fine." And then a little while later she would finally thaw out and tell me what really happened during the day. She told me things like: "Today Papi tried to throw me off the second story balcony at the Howard Johnson. I really thought I was gonna die this time."

To her that was just another normal day.

One day, before I had taken her to Hawaii, I told her that she didn't even know how miserable her life really is, because it's all she knows. She had nothing to compare it to. To her, miserable was normal. But if anyone else had one of her normal days, it would probably be the worst day of their lives. She just smiled a sad smile and looked at the floor, but she didn't say anything.

I had to go to Florida again, to take care of one of my new rental houses, a duplex in Lehigh Acres. Alice and I had been hanging out a lot again lately, and she became more and more open about how abusive Papi was, and how badly she wanted to get away from him. By now almost a year had passed since we had been to Hawaii together.

I asked her if she remembered what she had told me back then: that our time together in Hawaii was the happiest she had ever been in her life. I told her every day could be like that, if only she would finally get away from scumbags like Papi.

That day was the first time she told me that of course she wanted to come back and live with me again, but she was scared that once she moves back in, she's trapped, and then I'll force her to get clean. I couldn't blame her for being scared, after what she had been through with that guy who treated her like a sex slave after she had been in rehab. And after what she had been through with every other guy, really.

I asked her to come to Florida with me for a few days, but she was afraid of what Papi would do to her if she tried.

I went to Florida alone again. A few days later she called me and told me that she was finally ready to leave Papi and come live with me again. After all this time, she still had a key to the apartment. She asked if she could move back in and wait there for me, until I get back from Florida. "Of course," I said. I was sooo happy!

When I got back from Florida a few days later, my flight had landed much earlier than expected. I opened the apartment door and saw a bunch of her bags on the stairs. It looked like she was leaving. I walked upstairs. She was standing in the hallway, doing Papi's laundry. Her eyes got big. She hadn't expected me back so soon. She didn't know what to say. Papi was lying in my bed, naked. He had a dumb grin on his face and said: "Uhh, hi."

Apparently Alice and Papi had been living in my apartment together, while I was gone. I flipped the fuck out! I screamed at them to get the fuck out of my house. Alice tried to calm me down: "It's not what it looks like! I told him to leave!"

I wasn't in the mood for any of her bullshit anymore: "Just get the fuck out before I call the cops!"

"I can't, I don't have a car. I told Papi to leave, but he's waiting for a cab."

"GET THE FUCK OUT!!!"

Papi didn't say anything. He just put his clothes on.

Alice was visibly upset: "Can I at least borrow your phone for a second so I can call a cab? Mine is dead."

I handed her my phone.

"It's really not what it looks like."

"Shut up. Just get out."

A few minutes later a cab came and they left.

Later that night she texted me and told me that I had misinterpreted the situation. She said that she had asked Papi to drive her here so she could drop off her things here and come back to me. Papi threw her bags into the hallway, and they landed on the stairs. Then she told him to leave, but he told her he wasn't going to leave without her.

She kept telling him to leave. He got violent, grabbed a pair of scissors out of my kitchen drawer and stuck the tip of the scissors against her neck and threatened to stab her. She got really scared and told him he could wait there until I would get there and then I'd give both of them a lift back to the Howard Johnson. But she said that's only what she told him so he would stop hurting her. She said she really wanted me to kick out Papi, but not her.

At this point I was totally and utterly disgusted by her, and sick of her hurting me every chance she got. The next day I terminated my lease for that apartment and decided to move to Florida for good, like I had planned about a year earlier, when I had sold the mansion in the Poconos.

I had really only stuck around in Middletown for the past year to be near Alice. But she was obviously not worth the trouble. I had to admit to myself that things were just never going to get any better with her, no matter how hard I tried to get her away from the drugs and escorting on Backpage and living with drug dealers. So I was just done with all this bullshit. I decided to go to Florida and live there from now on. I had bought a nice apartment in Bonita Springs a few months earlier.

OSense O-Sense