Harry Ballkowski

I have finally returned from Houston and what a trip it was.  The good part of the trip was that I got go to two ball games at Minute Maid Park and watch the Mets vs the Astros, I partied a lot, and I ate some great Texas BBQ and Mexican food.  The bad part of the trip was that the Mets showed their ass and I had to listen to a bunch of hick-ass Texans taunt me repeatedly.  Thank you very much Billy Wagner, you can now add another log to the fire of my burning hatred for you.  The entirety of my trip was one big blur of drunkenness, and amazingly nothing crazy or out of the ordinary happened.  I was kind of dissapointed, because I was hoping for some random encounter to happen that I could write about.  Plus it had been awhile so I knew I was due for something weird to happen.  Well lucky for you, my readers, I did have a crazy random encounter.

My original flight out of Houston was canceled because of Tropical Storm Eduardo so I ended up leaving a day later than I was supposed to.  I got dropped off at Hobby airport around 8:30 and I was through security by 9:00.  I still had over two hours left until my plane was scheduled to depart so I decided to grab some breakfast.  The breakfast restaurant was called Pappas and it was decorated with the typical southwestern style decorations: horseshoes, saddles, western paintings, and other paraphernalia.  It was also on the complete other side of the terminal from where I was supposed to be, but, like I said, I had plenty of time so I wasn’t worried.  I walked over to the restaurant and got a table all the way in the back of the restaurant where I had my back to the wall.  I already knew what I wanted so when the waitress came over I ordered the Trail Blazer–eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and toast–and coffee.  The waitress brought me my coffee, and I started to zone out on my coffee just looking down at it staring as the steam came rolling off of the coffee.  I was really into this because I was tired and bored, but then I noticed someone approaching the table.

I didn’t think much of it because there were a ton of empty tables so I just figured they were going to sit at a table nearby.  I kept watching the steam roll off of my coffee when the chair in front of me was pulled out, and someone asked “is anyone sitting here?”  I glanced up slightly and saw a black woman pulling out the chair across from me.  She had dark skin, a broad flat nose, she was kind of chunky, but without being fat, she had fucked up dyed red hair that was half-braided, but nevertheless looked trashy, and she had a few inches on me.  Plus she had what looked like National Geographic flap-jack titties–which is never a good thing.  However she was not a complete hag, she had some nice qualities, but she was definitely not the type of girl you bring home to mommy.  She carried herself in a very skanky way.  Anyways I told her no that no one was sitting there, and then my face looked visibly upset when she actually decided to sit down.  I looked around and noticed that there were at least 50 other possible empty seats in the restaurant, and immediately I knew something was up.  At first I thought that maybe she wanted a piece of my Harry Ballkowski, but I quickly changed my mind, and figured it was some sort of scam.

“So what are you up to?” she asked.

“Well,” I started to respond visibly perturbed, “I’m waiting for my food and then I’m going home.”

“Where’s home?”

“New York.”

“Are you here by yourself,” she quizzed me.

“Yep, just me.”

“Sooo no wife or girlfriend here?”

“Yeh, like I said I’m here alone.” It was here that I changed my mind again and decided that this was some type of airport sex thing, but I started thinking it was a set-up, and that maybe she was a cop.  She didn’t have the physique of a cop though, but you never know these days.  They let just about anyone become a cop.  It was also at this time that my breakfast came, and I noticed that I had completely lost my appetite.  Regardless I started to pick at my eggs, pushing them around my plate, and once in awhile actually taking a bite.  “Are you angry” she asked “because you look angry.”

“No not angry, that’s just how I always look.”

“Well you really look angry.”

“I can’t help it I have an angry face.”

“So you like to drink,” she abruptly changed the subject.

“Sure I do but it’s 9:00AM.”

“So that doesn’t matter.  You want to start drinking?”

“Naw it’s a little early for me today, and I’m still recovering from a long week of drinking,” I stated.

“Do you mind if I drink?”

“Knock yourself out, you don’t need my permission.”

“Will you buy me one?”  Now I have a rule about buying drinks for strange girls, no matter how they look.  Back in the day, when I was just a young pup still wet behind the ears, I used to fall into the trap so subtly set by women, and buy drinks for girls I didn’t know at the bars (now this rule applies equally for men and women, but usually it’s women that try to entice guys to buy them free drinks at the bar, much like Delilah enticed Samson).  Of course I am older and wiser now, which is why if you’re not a friend of mine, I won’t buy you a drink.  But in this instance I decided it was worth the $7.00, and the breaking of my rule, for the possibility of a good story.

“Sure why not,” I said as I motioned to the waitress.  She ordered a Grey Goose, cranberry, and orange juice.  I winced thinking about drinking vodka that early in the morning, and once again refused to drink with her.  After the waitress brought back the drink she started to question me in earnest, but I could always tell that she was kind of beating around the bush.

“So do you like black girls?”

“Yeh, I have known a few, and they were nice girls.”

“But have you ever been with a black girl?”

“Yep sure have.”

“Really???”  I can’t believe that.”

“Why is that?  What is so hard to believe about?” that I ask.

“Because white boys are all racist.”

“That’s not true but whatever,”  I say as I begin to lose interest in the conversation.  But just then she started to change the tone of the conversation.

“Soo,” she says with her best seductive face and voice, which, by the way, wasn’t very seductive “what did you think of that black pussy.”

BAM!, that question just smacked me in the face with its directness, and I noticed that the other patrons around me heard her, and were leering over at us.  This only added to the uneasiness and embarrassment that I was feeling.

“Well,” I started to stutter, “you know, pussy is pussy.”

“Awww shit you don’t have to lie.  I can tell you like that black pussy better.  We know how to work that dick with our tight pussies.  Our pussies are so much better than the white bitches.”  I was astounded by the filth that was coming out of this girls mouth, not because I have never heard anything like this, but just not from a stranger.  Usually these are the type of conversations that take place between a bunch of guys drinking beers, and talking about their latest sexual exploits.  The two closest patrons were now totally trying to eavesdrop, but at the same time trying to pretend that they weren’t interested at all.  She then asked me “can I taste it,” which I took to mean taste the food that I was still playing with on my plate.

“What?? my food?”

“Haha no silly your dick.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I want to suck your fucking cock.  You’ve never had a girl come up to you and speak like this have you?”

“Not a stranger that’s for sure.”

“So can I suck your dick?”

“What like here?”

“No, we can go in the bathroom and have an even exchange.”

“Exchange. What you want me to pay for a blow job?”

“Well, yes in a way.”

“What way like money?”

“Well, don’t worry about it we can just go to the bathroom.  I really want to taste your dick.”  This kept on going back and forth where I tried to get more info, and she just tried to get me to go to the bathroom with her, and have an exchange.  I am still not sure what kind of exchange.

“You see,” I started “I don’t do that type of thing.  I don’t like random hookups.”

“Why not? I’m just going to suck your dick.”

“Well first of all you could be a cop, and this could be a setup, secondly the cops are on the lookout for this type of shit in the airports, and lastly I don’t know you and I don’t want to get any diseases.”

“I understand, but I’m not a cop” she tried to reassure me “you have nothing to worry about, and I am completely disease free.”  I’m sure many people heard something almost exactly similar to that before they made a decision that ruined their life.  I, for one, was not going to allow this Jezebel to coerce me into doing something stupid.  Plus she wasn’t even hot enough for me to even think about, maybe, the possibility of doing something of this nature.

“Well I’m sorry to dissapoint but this just isn’t going to happen.  I’m tired and I want to go to sleep, and I don’t feel like spending the night in jail.”

“I already told you there’s nothing to worry about.”  Famous last words.  This type of back and forth went on for a few more minutes and I was starting to get angrier.  She kept looking at me and trying to be seductive, but it was just making me sick.  Finally she finished her drink and got up.  She started to leave and then turned back and said “you know, it’s too bad.  I would’ve loved to have that dick in my mouth.”  Uggg.  So she finally left and then the waitress came over and wanted to know what happened and if I knew the girl.  After I relayed a short, edited version of the story she was floored.  I told her it was pretty fucked up, but at least I had a good story to tell, and then I told her to keep on the lookout for the girl, because she might try to prey on one of her other customers.  I then paid my tab, and gingerly stepped out of the restaurant keeping my eyes peeled.  I didn’t want to run into her again.  Luckily for me after about 20 yards I spotted her, but she didn’t see me.  I then went into full on recon mode, and used a crowd of people and then some arrival/departure TV’s to hide myself from her view, and make my escape to the other side of the terminal.  Unfortunately my plane was delayed another hour, but thankfully I never saw the girl again.

That was probably one of the most random experiences I have ever had in my life, and I am sure that beyond all the sex talk, there was something bigger going on.  I’m not sure if it was some sort of police operation or if she had some friends she was working with trying to rob people.  I know there was something bigger going down, because my gut told me so, and I have learned to trust my gut.  Either way though I am glad that didn’t fall for their ruse, but I am also glad that I was able to bring back a good story for my loyal readers.

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~ by Perpetual Memory Loss on August 8, 2008.

7 Responses to “Harry Ballkowski”

  1. wow. that is totally random. good move in your part.

  2. hahahahahahahahahahaha only to the kapnasty does shit like that happen too!

  3. “Plus she had what looked like National Geographic flap-jack titties–which is never a good thing.”

    — That’s my favorite line in the story, haha, good one Kap!

  4. So that was better than naming my nuts Harry Ballkowski?

  5. Hahahaha fckn hooorrrible, that was a great story! Now one day when u r old and have grandkids you can tell them this story! hahahah Hope you had a great time while you were down here, good times!

  6. Oh yeah dude the best of times.

  7. definitely sounds like a robbery set up.

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