True Story©... Decoy Intel Tactics

     While I am WILDLY guarded with my phone number, it has also not changed in almost 17 years, so people who had it in 2000-01 still have it.  What this tends to lead to in the days of smartphones is that a friend will get a new phone every once in a while and I get a text or phone call making sure it is still me connected to an otherwise unused (by them) phone number and then I won’t hear from them again until they clean up their phone again.

     When I got home from Mexico in June, I got one such call from my dude Rob…

*phone rings*

Me: “yoooo…”

Rob: “Yo…  Phlip?”

Me: “Yeah, this me.  Whatup Bobby.”

Rob: “Don’t start that shit again, ‘Phil’”

Me: “Point taken, what’s good though?”

Rob: “Not shit, just got this new phone and cleaning up the list.”

Me: “Yeah, I haven’t endeavored any women crazy enough to need to change it.”

Rob: “Heh.  Well I had another question though.”

Me: “Yeah, what’s the deal?”

Rob: “Well, more of a business opportunity.  You still doing the supervillain shit?”

Me: “You know it!”

Rob: “Well…  One of my homies is having some trouble with his lady and needs to feel her out.”

Me: “Do NOT give him this number.  Have him call the burner at xxx-xxx-xxxx and ask for Moe.”

Rob: “Moe?”

Me: “Don’t ask.”

Rob: “Got it.”

No way in the hell I was letting a potential issue come directly to the main line.  That is how it has remained the main line for so long uninterrupted.

     Not ten minutes after getting off the phone with my man Rob, the burner rings…

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Hello, is this Moe?”

Me: “Yeah, what’s up?”

Caller: “I’m Geoff, I got your number from Rob, he said you might be able to help me.”

Me: “So what’s your issue?”

Geoff: “It’s my girl, it’s--…  man…  I want to propose to her, but I have this odd feeling that she is not done out here hoeing.”

Me: “You shouldn’t propose then.”

Geoff: “What you mean?”

Me: “Head this problem off early.  You clearly don’t trust her, marrying her won’t fix that.”

Geoff: “But I…  I love her.”

Me: “Look, I can cook you up a scheme and take your money, and I will do it but I will feel bad because I know how this story will end.”

Geoff: “So what is the plan and the fee?”

Me: “$750 plus incidentals, I will call you back shortly with the plan.  Use this number?”

Geoff: “I can do that, and yes use this number.”

Here I am, fresh off a boat, still swaying from a week on the water, EXHAUSTED, trying to plan two birthday parties and now I have an offer I can’t refuse to do something I would not otherwise even want to be bothered with.
Of course I made a quick arrangement of a plan, then called back and arranged $375 on the front end and the balance (plus incidentals) on the back end.

     Mentioning the birthday parties, my buddy Marlon was just coming in from Virginia for mine.  He happened to have arranged a room in the same hotel that I was told houses the watering hole that Geoff’s fiancée-to-be and her friends apparently like to hang out in.  I showed my dude Marlon a picture of her plus handed off $100 for a bar tab and told him I wasn’t doing much of shit that evening but chilling and cooking for the party, so he could hang in the hotel bar, but to get at her and see if he could crack her, but DO NOT FUCK HER.  After that, report back to me at the end of the night with any proof to whether or not she was down to fuck around on ol’ Geoff.
I promptly poured myself a glass of Bourbon and then another, and another and one more.
[Phlip note: stop fucking judging me, I was on vacation.]
By 11:30pm, my ass was asleep and missing calls and texts on both phones.

     I woke up at 7:40am on Saturday to SEVENTY THREE text messages, twelve missed calls between both phones, and a fully exploded FaceBook wall.  It was as if ISIS and Al Qaeda were having a gang fight inside of my phone.
Chill…  It was my birthday morning.  50 of the texts and all the FB action was “happy birthday” anyway.  But man oh man, the other 21 texts.  15 on the burner were ALL Geoff.  Apparently his girl didn’t make it home from the bar before the sun was coming up and he spent the whole night panicking and stewing over it.  He should probably buy a PS4 or something.

And that 6 on the main line from Marlon?

(note: my friends are drunkard miscreants sometimes)

- First one was “man, this guttersnipe is NOT loyal, even if she ain’t trying to let me beat tonight.”
- Next, she is only two Patrons in and getting loose, kissing two of her girls in the mouth.
- Next she is in the corner in the club with her titty out in one hand, her skirt hiked with the other showing her new non-existent panties.
- #4, they’re not in the bar anymore, but in the hotel lobby, she is making a “come in here” face looking back over her shoulder with the skirt still hiked up to show off her ass.
- Next, he is apparently following her up the hallway in the rooms area of the hotel.  Ostensibly, this would be HIS room.
[Phlip note: MARLON, I TOLD YOU NOT TO--…]
- #6: Marlon has apparently convinced her that she wants to play a game of “dentist.”
[Phlip note: …  what part of “don’t fuck” do you not understand, Marlon?!]

     Now I got two calls to make.  First one had to be that damn Marlon…

Me: “Marlon!”

Marlon: “Yes?”

Me: “WHAT THE FUCK MAN?!!?  I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCK HER!”

Marlon: “Well n**ga, you ALSO neglected to inform me about the ass on this b*tch.”

Me: “…  fuck my life, and can we not call her a bit--...”

Marlon: “... and besides, we was both drunk as fuck on that Patron.”

Me: “…”

Marlon: “But what we mad for?  I was supposed to get her out, right?  Ain’t no better proof than photo proof.”

Me: “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Marlon: “Is it any consolation that the head was good?”

Me: “I fucking hate you man.  Let me call this dude back and tell him what the deal is.”

Marlon: “Wait!”

Me: “What?”

Marlon: “Did you get her number before she break up with this n**ga?”

Me: “Marl…  You ain’t shit man.”

Marlon: “Man, did you see that ass though?”

Me: “Oh yeah, I saw it.  Thanks to your overeager ass we might not get paid now.”

Marlon: “Wait, you get PAID for this shit?!”

Me: “Phlip’s Supervillainy is a very real thing.  Well, it is when your drunk horny homeboy doesn’t literally fuck your money.”

Marlon: “You COULD have done this shit yourself, you know that right?”

Me: “Shut the fuck up…  You know I am pretty much married.”

Marlon: “Too bad bruh, that b*tch throat game was AAA.”

Me: “I’m done here.  I'm at you later man.”

Marlon: “Out.”

Now it was time for the bad news on the phone call I expected to make but didn’t want to make with this much information.
I pulls out the burner and dial…

Me: “Geoff?”

Geoff: “Yeah man, you get my texts?”

Me: *sigh* “Yeah…  that is why I am calling.”

Geoff: “Uh oh…  How bad is it?”

Me: “Is she around you right now?”

Geoff: “Drunk ass fell asleep in her clothes soon as she came in, still out.”

Me: “Leave the room.”

Geoff: “…  okay, I am on the porch.”

Me: “Alright…  DO. NOT. MARRY.”

Geoff: *gasp* “That bad, huh?”

Me: “Worse”

Geoff: “Any proof?”

Me: “Man, there’s pics.”

Geoff: “PICTURES?!!?”

Me: “Unfortunately”

Geoff: “How bad?”

Me: “I can show you, if you like”
*forwarding images from main line to burner*

Geoff: “Yeah, I’mma need some proof when I kick her out.”

Me: “Check your messages when we get off the phone.”

Geoff: “Aight”

Three minutes later…

*burner rings*

Me: “Hello?”

Geoff: “Moe, man…”

Me: “Yeah?”

Geoff: “… I just...” *uncontrollable sobbing*

Me: “GEOFF!!!”

Geoff: “hmm?”

Me: “Snap out of it man!”

Geoff: “How?  How the fuck I'mma do that?”

Me: “Shit, better to find this shit out now than after marrying her!”

Geoff: *hangs up*

As I expected might happen, I never did get that $375 and my $100 back for the bar tab back from this fuckboy.  Totally Marlon's fault for not NOT fucking her as he was instructed to.  If not for how my current relationship is set up, I might have felt I owed it to myself to have humped her if only for the amount of my retainer I just got stiffed on.
And that, lady and gentleman, is why I don’t do work for Friends of Friends without collecting my whole fee on the front end anymore.