Messing With Sasquatch

I sure like the sasquatch commercials. Other people's pain and terror is really funny. Unfortunately, I've never seen Bigfoot. I do know a few people with excessive body hair and quite a few with the pungent odor of unwashed monster sweat, but that's as close as I've gotten to the big guy.

So, lacking my own private sasquatch to taunt, I have to settle for what's available. Drunk people. In particular, the same drunk guy who keeps texting me thinking that I'm his friend, Paul. I almost cackled with glee when he texted me again tonight. First I played along. I found out all kinds of things about the guy. You'll be very surprised to know that he's single and he drinks. He proudly informed me that he has quite a buzz going on. When I got tired of the game and finally let him know that I 'm not Paul, he then decided that I must be Molly. Really, could he make it any easier for me? I mean, come on, where's the challenge? I almost felt guilty about how easy it was to convince him that Molly has a secret thing for him. (Which, of course, he has apparently suspected for years.) Eventually I gave up and told the poor guy that I'm not Molly and however old he is, I'm more than likely old enough to be his mom. Guess what? That didn't stop him. Apparently he is not too particular about with whom he hooks up. It was then that I mentioned my large and violently jealous husband who just got out of prison. Too bad my husband has never been to prison. I'm sure he'd get a prison tattoo just to help me mess with Sasquatch. He's fun like that.