Nymphet maintains an online profile on Facebook, where she mentions that she works for an escort service in Vancouver. A former roommate of mine, Alyssa, e-mailed her as a joke for me. We created a message that suggested a woman was hitting on her. She mistook the comment as a play for her boyfriend, whoever he is.
The last man I saw her in town with was one of those Gospel Mission types with a drug problem. He seemed much older than her, and was clearly in his fifties or sixties. She has always liked rough men, though I have no idea why.
Nymphet did this about seventy-five times during a six-year period. She had four boyfriends during that time, including a live-in fiance for over two years. She had two children with him, including one she forced on him by pretending to take the Pill and then flushing it down the toilet. The motivation was revenge against him for forcing her to put the first unwanted child up for adoption.
She had attempted, without success, to regain legal custody of her child from the adoptive parents, in order to force him to support her financially. There was never any limit to her manipulation. She would sink to the lowest depths to get what she wanted, at other people's expense, if only because he delighted in the process of forcing others to serve her needs first. Other people's feelings were never important to her.
The fiance walked, and paid her child support in exchange for sex. An old friend of mine, Jody, commented that this arrangement was fair and she should not complain. We were sitting on a bus in 2000, having a conversation about this matter, while she filled out an application for an education grant. As the bus meandered through the suburbs, we discussed Michelle's history and sexual preferences. "What did he pay her a month?" Jody asked me.
"Well, Miss Sex-for-Rent has requested four hundred a month, in return for three nights of sex and companionship a week," I told her sarcastically. "She's upset that he demands certain times and nights, since she wants time with her new boyfriend, Michael," I said.
"Does he actually work? Is he gainfully employed?" she asked.
"He's a swing manager at a local fast food restaurant and gets off at midnight, but she makes him wait to come over until the morning, after Adam has left. I don't think she wants one to find out about the other. He hates the restrictions on night activity, since he likes to sleep during the day."
"Why doesn't he sleep over at her house, during the day?" Jody asked. "He could always come over after Adam is done. I mean, they are the ones who agree to screwing shifts. Michael is second-best, he can always wait outside on the couch or she can give him a cot to sleep on. He has to realize what is going on, surely."
"He has a leather couch in his mother's basement that appeals more to him than Nymphet's double bed, since she never changes the sheets. She has a party crew coming up from Regina, Saskatchewan, over this weekend. I think she wanted to wash the sheets before they arrived. She had one guy in mind for action, since she has used up all the guys on the local party hotline, off the streets and in the clubs downtown," I responded to her casually.
"She's a type-A sexual personality. She must always outdo herself. If she expects him to pay for sex, she will have to serve him on demand," Jody stated to me. "If you expect a guy to pay cash for sex, you can't call the shots on the time and what have you."
"Strange, isn't it?" I pointed out.
Jody put away her application and pulled a drink out of her large tote bag. She took a sip and closed the lid again. Her blue eyes stared back at me, intent on continuing the conversation.
"My boyfriend took off after I got pregnant. I have never seen a child support check, but if you want to screw for it, that's fine by me. Just don't get haughty and demanding about it," Jody said.
"That's too bad," I said sympathetically.
"I can't even work because of epilepsy, so I am on disability and in school for this early childhood education course. There is still another year left. If she wants to screw him for money, she doesn't get to call the shots about the arrangement," Jody told me.
"Her new boyfriend buys her hundreds of dollars in groceries and drives her around. After she kicked me out, her mother told me not to worry about rent for three weeks there. I paid her fifty dollars and she told me to forget the rest," I said to her.
"That seems fair enough," Jody said to me.
"Nymphet then attempted to stick a hundred-dollar grocery bill on me, along with a lunch and some beer she bought for me. The groceries are hers, not mine. She drank a bottle of vodka that I bought. I also lent her five hundred dollars that she never paid back. I bought her lunch and dinner several times and always paid my share of the bill. I don't think I should have to pay for the beer, which was a treat and a gift, if her ex-fiance drank my vodka. I recall that her new boyfriend, Michael, drank some of my beer and coffee liquor as well," I told her.
"What set it off?" she asked me.
"The bottle of liquor set her off. As well, I brought over an old box of hair color and seven dollars in change. She had forced me to try to collect welfare and had prevented me from returning to my temporary job as a canvasser for the phone company by dragging me all over town to welfare, the bank and other places. The bank manager refused to release the money I had locked into a registered retirement savings plan, since he claimed that he could produce a letter for welfare," I told her.
"You cannot have a savings plan and receive any welfare," she said.
"Welfare refused me. I had no access to my savings and my unemployment insurance claim had not finished. It was closed while I worked the temporary job, which I could not finish since she forced me to spend three days in line at welfare, two days in workshops, and two appointments with a counselor," I said.
"No wonder she started the sex campaign for money with her exes. She can't manipulate people into welfare," she responded.
"The rest of the time, I was left to take care of her stupid child while she went off with one of her men. I had no key and she threatened to throw me out. My mother didn't want me back in, since she resented that I left home without being married. She wanted me to stay at home until marriage, or else, leave and live on the streets because she is crazy," I told Jody.
"They are both nuts. That is confinement, like being in jail," Jody told me.
"Nymphet then tried to obtain rent money from me, when I paid it to her mother. She wrote me a letter in which she claimed that she was collecting the money, when the money is paid to her mother. She as a trust fund, child support, a monthly disability check, and a monthly welfare check. Three months before she applied for welfare, she took $5,000 out of her bank account. Unknown to them, she runs a part-time business that earns between $800 and $1,200 a month," I told her.
"She lied about her rent on the welfare application, since she failed to mention that she lives in her parent's basement, that she is not single, and that the rent is only $250 a month. She claimed that the rent was five hundred a month," I told her.
"You are not allowed to collect disability payments on welfare. They take the child support and use it against the welfare payments, since you cannot collect welfare and child support at the same time. She lied about her rent. She is running a business out of her home while she hides the income. She is seeing two guys. They give her money. She works as a hooker of sorts. She thinks she is wonderful," Jody commented.
"I wrote her back. I wrote that her mother had rejected any money from me, and if her mother wanted, I could write her a check for a hundred dollars. I finally moved back into my parents, found a job, and have successfully opened up the other locked-in savings plan that I had with another bank," I told her.
"What happened?" Jody asked.
"I never received a call or letter from her mother. Since she told me she didn't want the money, I took that as a sign that she didn't want it. Nymphet then threatened to take me to small claims court and started leaving notes in my mother's mailbox as well as calling and leaving strange messages. I contacted a lawyer at the legal aid branch, and he told me that without any proof, she had no basis," I said.
"She cannot get money out of you if she doesn't have a rental agreement and isn't the landlady," Jody agreed.
"She didn't have a rental agreement, forced me to leave in the middle of the month and wasn't the owner or landlady of the property. Since the owners, her parents, had forfeited the right to rent, I was fine," I told her.
"Good. What about the rest?" Jody asked me.
"Well, the lawyer and my mother told me that the groceries she bought for herself were her problem. As well, the beer and restaurant bill were also her problem, since she could not prove that she had lent anything and her generosity was her mistake. You can sue someone for stealing property, taking a car, causing damage, or making false claims," I stated.
"It's not likely that the court would hear her out," Jody agreed.
"If you give someone a very large amount of money without an agreement, the court may not even hear the claim. If you lend money to someone, without any agreement in writing and payment plan, you have little chance in court," I told her.
"There is no chance of getting your money back. There is no way she can demand payment from you for money owed to her parents, which they reject any claim to," Jody said.
"Fine. I am not vindictive. I wanted this mess to end. I sent her two nasty letters, not threatening or harassing ones, just very intellectual and sarcastic ones in response to her notes and calls. I have to guess what I am reading. I have made it clear what I think of her in general terms," I told her. "I'm curious. Does she routinely see guys from Saskatchewan?" Jody asked me. "Maybe it's a one-off, like a bad golf game."
"No. She picked them up online, and apparently, he called her several times. They have three-ways," I told her. "There could be more involved, I think."
"I thought he hadn't come down yet at that point. Was it with two guys?" Jody asked.
"She kicked me out before the gang-bang lovers came down. I think my presence got in the way of her plans. She also arranged for her mother to take the kid up to the cabin at Christina Lake for the weekend. See how she had it all planned, with Adam away and all," I told her.
"What about this other boyfriend?" she asked.
"Apparently, he started at a vacuum cleaner outlet doing some job, maybe sales. He still works at the fast food joint three nights a week. They cut back his shifts and he wants to support her. I think he smokes a lot of pot. That Mercedes in black looks expensive," I told her.
"He sounds too busy for the gang-bang," she said. "So what about a three-way? Like, before, did they do that at some other time or were you meaning something else?"
"I meant a three-way phone conversation. She also speaks to former friends off hotlines, ones that haven't given up on her due to her seedy reputation. That and she doesn't always deliver the goods, so to speak. She has a habit of not showing up. They feel she has avoided the action after making hefty promises. She has become a chronic no-show, which means that she is no longer an easy and reliable lay, according to the local grapevine," I said.
"I see. She is a rotten grape. She has been passed around too many times, like bad wine in a large carafe at a wedding," Jody responded.
"She developed a seedy reputation in clubs downtown and the scene hasn't changed over lately, so the same people she screwed last time are still around. I think the stories about gonorrhea and chlamydia, combined with her status as someone's girlfriend and the mother of two kids, have gotten around the club scene. She has actually avoided drugs for two years, which makes her much harder to bang on the side of bed mantle," I told her.
"That might explain the brain damage. She has spent too many nights banging a guy while banging her head against a bed frame and a wall," Jody snapped.
"I imagine," I told her.
"She is a gun ready to go off. She was just lining up the bullets and preparing to pull the trigger.
There was no way she could go two years without wanting to get back in the game," Jody said.
"I think it was just a weekend gang-bang while Adam was away on a business trip. Last I heard, he is no longer assistant manager at Joey's Only Seafood. He is now staff trainer and recruiter. They had a team of trainers in Vancouver that he had to meet with over the weekend. He was gone for three days, so she was gearing up for the weekend," I told her. "They planned to come up in a white van from Regina for this encounter with her. I think there were three or four of them."
"Did she start hanging out with a new group?" Jody asked.
"Christine," I said.
"That's what happens when you hang with girls like Christine. They go absolutely mad and run around with a knife. What's up with the welfare clothing program?" Jody asked.
"Christine got bags of clothes, mostly baby stuff. She gave them away or sold them. I went to her apartment and refused to return and I wouldn't buy any of it. I wonder if she stole them," I told her. "She had been calling Michelle and issuing death threats to her. She claimed this story, along with so-called claims of Christine stabbing her with a knife, but there is no knife wound. I think Nymphet was exaggerating about the knife."
"Well, if there is no knife wound, it doesn't matter. They are both crazy and deserve one another. She picks great friends to hang with. Leave her to the gang bangers," Jody said.
I never spoke to Nymphet again. I have seen her around, with her boobs hanging out and crack cocaine burns and pock marks on her once-pretty face. She went through people's garbage cans and flaunted her tanned body before cars near the old people's mall, in the central area. She leaned into the cars and solicited them for sex. She wore high-heeled sandals, an ugly tight purple spandex top with denim cut-offs, and another time, one of those full-body short sets.
In response to the email, she accused my roommate of going after her guy and blocked her, though his picture is nowhere to be found on the blog. There used to be pictures of her online, but they recently disappeared. She has always photographed well, like the model she once wanted to be. They were up again more recently, and as graphic as usual. Underwear is not a favored piece of clothing in her wardrobe.
Work, as well, has never been an interest of hers. Work got in the way of partying, drugs and sexual interludes with many different men. She worked at a fast food restaurant for a year, picked pine cones on a farm, and stuffed alfalfa sprouts into bags at a small food-processing factory.
She was fired from the fast food restaurant and the alfalfa sprout place, so she entered into the education assistant program and did volunteer work with disabled kids and as a candy-stripper and orderly at the hospital. She straightened up at times, when she wasn't on the streets, in some guy's bed, scoring at a nightclub, or sleeping on the beach while living in parks and on the streets. Such are the effects of uncontrolled addiction and severe manic-depression.
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