the dismal return of Fat Moe

Zen Buddha's boyfriend, Fat Moe, was still sleeping overnight in her car, in the Tim Hortons' parking lot, when I worked with her the other night. What a surprise. Although, it appears that they are trying to keep Fat Moe's sleeping arrangement a little bit more discreet, which was at least a nice gesture, I guess.

Fat Moe didn't hang out in the lobby eating all the donuts and muffins this time; he wasn't using the bathroom every hour; and he wasn't speeding through the drive-through - without a driver's license - demanding to speak to Zen Buddha. Also, Zen Buddha wouldn't admit that he was sleeping in her car even though I could see him mulling around out there, which was at least a nice gesture, I guess.

If Fat Moe wasn't such a low-life, mooch, jealous boyfriend, wannabe player, piece of trash, I wouldn't have a problem with him rummaging around in the parking lot, but the problem is that he sucks at life. He was living with Zen Buddha, but her mom kicked him out because he sucks at life. He was living with some friends down state, but they kicked him out because he sucks at life and doesn't understand the concept of rent, especially paying it.

Maybe I shouldn't be complaining about some dude that was sleeping/making a bunch of phone calls in the parking lot. The problem was that he called Zen Buddha every 15 minutes; they argued about money; Zen Buddha got all stressed out; she started yelling a bunch of stuff like, "There better still be exactly nine dollars in the car when I get back." All of this Jerry Springer action made it very tricky for the Zen Buddha to get her work done; therefore, I was forced to get all my shit done real fast, so I could pick up the slack for her - not cool - and where inlays the problem? Fat Moe.