S1E8: Warrants and Falafel

Her friend said "you what the what now?" A reasonable response, honestly.

Because in the same week: an engagement, a party that ended with police, a fiancé who ran and left her alone when they arrived, a stranger answering his phone, a warrant, pigeons, registration tag theft, and a man named Dogfucker.

And then they made falafel and he posted about it on Instagram.

Just another week in paradise.

This is fine.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:08

I'm Heidi Stark and this is Pretty Red Flakes Podcast Episode 8. This is three things in one, a true crime podcast because these things actually happened to me, an audiobook because I'm reading the duet chapter by chapter, and a survivor testimony because this survivor's sharing what actually happened, including beyond the page, and what's happened since. Please remember to like, subscribe, and tell your friend. We left the last episode feeling giddy. Timmy had just proposed to Margot in front of a group of safeguarding mongooses and a random park ranger, and she said yes. They're driving off, Fiance and Beyonce. Chapter thirty seven. You what the what now? The car hums along the road as the botanical gardens fade into the distance behind us, my heart still fluttering from the proposal. Timmy's hand rests on my thigh as he stares and he keeps looking over and smiling at me, his eyes bright and kind. The air between us feels light and giddy, like a dream I don't want to wake from. I send my good friend Polo the picture I snapped of the beautiful Monstera earlier. He's a plant daddy, and I know Monstera's are one of his faves. I follow up with a cheating text. Me. By the way, I just got engaged. My phone rings within ten seconds. Polo calling. I smirk knowing what's coming. I put him on speaker. Hi, you what the what now? Polo's voice blasts through the car speakers, incredulous and tinged with disbelief, and perhaps a hint of amusement. Timmy's grin widens as he squeezes my thigh. I bite my lip to suppress a laugh, but it tumbles out, still high on the rush of it all. He proposed, I say, my voice lifting, with happiness. And I said yes. There's a pause just long enough for me to hear the gears turning in Pedro's head. Oh, well, congratulations. That was quick, guys, but I'm happy for you. The warmth in his voice is genuine, but there's no missing the hesitation lurking just beneath it, the slight judgment coming through the speaker. I know Polo too well to be fooled. He's happy for me, he really is, but he's also weary. And his concern clings to the edges of his words. But I'm delirious on the high of being engaged to this wonderful human, so I choose to disregard the hesitation and embrace the words, refusing to let anything negative kill the vibe. Timmy perks up beside me. I'm in love with your friend, he calls toward the phone, loud and excited. Tell him about the mongooses. He glances at me with a playful grin as if the mongoose brigade had been in on the proposal. Before I can't, Timmy speaks up again. So we're totally watching, says Timmy. It would like the universe sent him to bless us. Polo snorts on the other end, and I can tell he's trying not to lie. Mongooses, huh? Sounds magical. And we fit sushi to coy at the lake, I add, giggling at the memory. Timmy leaned close and nuzzling my hair. I've never asked anyone to marry me before, he says softly, just loud enough colour to hair. You're really, really special, Margot, and I could never hope to find someone like you again, so it would have been silly of me not to ask. I grinned feeling like his proposal was ridiculous, and I was kind of joking when I said yes, but wondering if this was meant to happen. I'm gonna be Timmy Benson O'Malley, like your dad's name combined with mine. My chest leaps. I feel like it's meant to be that he and my dad would share the same name, like a sign that my dad approves of this whole crazy situation, that he sent him for me. It feels nice to be wanted, to be told I'm the missing piece for someone. Because I've always felt discarded or not really seen. And here's this man who sees me, who knows my past, sees all my flaws, and doesn't just accept them. He embraces them, loves me because of them. His words are sweet, but they stir a memory I'd buried. The moment my third husband asked me to marry him, just hours after meeting in person, his exact words echo in my mind. Well, you're clearly out of my league, so I need to lock it down. I should have listened, like really listening to his words, and ran. I try to push the thought away, focusing on Timmy and the warmth of his hand on my thigh. This is different. Timmy is different, I remind myself. He's nothing like my former husband. Besides, I can't help it if everyone wants to propose to me quickly. Maybe I'm just adorable like that. Still, Polo's silence in the end of the line feels weighted, as if he can see the small flicker of doubt blooming in my chest. So, Polo said, clearing his throat, you're happy? Of course I'm happy, I reply quickly, my voice bright. I've never felt more seen or loved in my life. He makes me feel like the most special person in the world. Timmy leans over and kisses my temple, his lips lingering as he whispers, you are. The warmth of his affection watches over me, making the flicker of doubt dim, at least for the moment. He's like wearing rose tinted glasses, I tell Paulo. But that for me, everything I do makes him happy. Every story I tell, every fact I share. He loves it all. There's a long pause on the other end of the line. Well, as long as you're happy. His voice trails off the care and his voice unmistakable. This is just quite fast, isn't it? I roll my eyes upon the yes, Paulo, it's very fast. I know it's quick, but it's not about the timeline. Sometimes when you know you just know. It's about how you feel in this situation. And I feel amazing. Alright, he says, but there's a cautious edge to his tone. I just don't want to see you get hurt again, that's all. I know, I reply, the weight of his words sinking in. Paulo has always been there through every breakup and misstep, not piecing me back together so much, as quietly observing. He's not trying to ruin my happiness, he's just trying to protect me like he always does. Timmy squeezes my thigh, reassuring me. Thank you, Polo, I say my voice gentle. I love you. I love you too, Margot, just be careful, okay? His words carry a quiet warning, one I choose not to dwell on. I will, I promise, meaning it. I promise I'll take really good care of her, Timmy calls out. I hang up, tucking my phone back into my bag. The car is quiet for a moment, the hum of the road beneath us filling the silence. I exhale, willing myself to stay present, to stay on the walk for this moment with Timmy. You okay, Timmy asks, his thumb brushing small circles on my leg. Yeah, I say, smiling at him. I'm more than okay. He grins, his joy radiating around us as he gives my leg a playful squeeze. Good, because I can't wait to start the rest of our life together. And just like that the flipper of doubt extinguishes. For now, I let myself sink deeper into the love bubble, sabering the feeling of being seen, cherished, and so intensely loved. Sabre is still at the quarantine station for a little while longer, so it's just quality time with the two of us. No worries in the world. Well, except for paying this exorbitant rent without a corporate job. But I'll worry about that later. Now is my time to just feel and be in love and be loved. Because if the first time in a long time I feel like I belong somewhere, and that somewhere is here with to me. My reaction to this chapter, the cognitive dissonance here was insane. The insanity of what just happened was the proposal. My heart was swelling with what felt like love, and I was truly giddy. I felt wanted, I felt like I belonged. Then there was my friend's disbelief and caution, which kind of deflated the balloon, but was also understandable. And there was a moment where I could decide whether to heed his warning and focus on that or take the leap into the exciting, the positive, the warmth, and the comfort in me. And so I did. Chapter 38, the thin shroom line. The day continues so innocently, a mix of Timmy's childlike excitement and a hurried announcement to his boss. We're engaged, he exclaims. She quirks a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Engaged? How long have you two been dating? Like twenty-four hours? She glances at me and says, Congratulations. But there's a question mark in her voice, almost a look of sympathy. Ten days, but when you're in love, you're in love. Plus, babbles Timmy. She gives me twenty BJs a day. Twenty, that's a boss, that's quite a lot of daily BJs. I feel myself turn red in disbelief he's discussing BJs with his boss. Definitely a no-no from an HR perspective, but I guess that's not for me to worry about. He's exaggerating, I add awkwardly. Am I though? He winks at me. I think yesterday it might have actually been twenty. He turns to his boss. Oh my god. And she's a really, really good cook. Once we leave the office, Timmy gets even more excited. We'll let's have an engagement celebration. He starts texting friends and even invites his manager and her husband. He kisses me, a long one that takes me by surprise. We'll go to Dok Bar where we first met in person. It'll be romantic. I'd hoped for a quiet, intimate evening, but he keeps texting more and more people, clearly hoping some will join to share our excitement. Okay, I laugh. I don't have anyone to invite, though. That doesn't matter, he says. It'll just be a small low key thing. We dress up and get to Dok Bar. Who else is coming? I ask. Nobody seems to be able to make it, he frowns, barely concealing his frustration. It's okay, I say. It's very short notice. You're literally inviting people same day on a weeknight. Emmy nods for them frowns. Shit, I meant to ask my boss if you'd mind paying me a few days early. He cats at his phone and keeps checking it every few minutes. Ah, she's not replying. I bet she's gonna say no. He seems agitated until his phone finally dings. He frowns again. She fucking said no. I don't know why she's being like this. It's not a big deal. She can afford to pay me early. I just wanted her to give me a little bit of an advance. The truth is, I'm not gonna have enough to cover our drinks and one spoon. I don't want you to pay for our engagement party, especially when it was my idea. It doesn't seem right. Then his eyes grow wide as if a light bulb is going off in his brain. Wait here, I'll be right back. Timmy, where are you? Be right back. I said, trust me. He kisses me on the top of my head and zooms out of the restaurant, leaving me alone at the bar. About fifteen minutes later he returns with an average looking guy, friendly enough, but with an energy that makes me slightly uneasy. This is my old boss, Parker. He introduces us. He lives right around the corner and he's a good friend of mine. Parker grins and shakes my hand. Nice to meet you. Nice to meet you too, I smile. While Parker orders himself a drink, Timmy leans in and explains Parker's going to pick up the tabs for our engagement celebration. He also mentions that Parker has just taken shrooms. I feel weary. Nobody else has agreed to meet us for this engagement party. The bartending team is really nice and they comp Timmy and I sources of champagne, congratulating us. But I can't help but notice the weird looks a couple of them shoot my way. I'm a little confused as to why Parker was randomly invited to our celebration. Timmy's only had negative things to say when he's mentioned them previously, but I figure he lives close by. I'm also suspecting it because Timmy's boss said she couldn't pay him today, and as it's beginning to become clear, Timmy has absolutely no more money than what he earns from day to day, so Parker must be willing to pick up the tab. After settling our tab, we all walk to my apartment and take a seat on the floor. Oh, I had some furniture you have it would fit nicely in here, says Parker. Oh really? That would be awesome. Thank you so much, I smile. People are so generous here helping with apartment setups. You should take my number too, he says, giving me his details. Just in case you need to talk to someone other than Timmy, because you probably will. It's kind of weird the way you worded things, but he's right in pointing out I don't really have any friends here other than Timmy yet. Having a bad couple of emergency numbers seems sensible. It doesn't seem like he's being creepy, although the way he winks to emphasize the point makes my skin prickle. I smile politely, hoping it's just his sense of humor. We chat for a while, and then all of a sudden the tone changes. There's a weird energy between Timmy and Parker. They suddenly start getting snippy with each other over basically nothing. Something about whether Parker got fired or whether he voluntarily left, and whether they were peers or if Parker was Timmy's supervisor. And then it turns into a full blown heated argument. Parker storms out of the apartment, and about 20 minutes later Timmy and I glance over and see Parker's keys linked around one of the kitchen cupboard handles. He calls Parker and puts him on speaker, and Parker starts screaming and swearing at Timmy. You're such a fucking loser asshole stealing my keys. Bring them here, you fucking thief. We walk back toward Parker's house and Parker calls me. Where are you guys? Almost to your place. Can you walk and meet us halfway? Maybe. Put Timmy on the phone, he demands. I say okay and give the phone to Timmy. All of a sudden, Parker starts screaming at Timmy, calling Timmy a loser thief and hurling insults that are just cruel. Timmy screams back, which seems justified. I'm defensive of Timmy and Parker's shrieking is throwing me off. I'm not sure what provoked it. The argument seemed relatively benign and kind of out of nowhere. We walk all the way back to Parker's apartment, but he's not there, so Timmy finds a place on the hood of Parker's car where he can discreetly tuck in the keys. It's not a long walk, but by the time we get there I feel emotionally drained. It's not feeling like much of a celebration. I think the situation is over until my phone buzzes. I start receiving a series of messages from Parker on my phone. His texts are full of rage, his words twisting into threats. Photos in here, and to my shock, the selfies of Parker. I realize with horror that he's still hanging out in my building's lobby. Fuck, Parker. I'm gonna mess this place at big time. You'll be very sorry for fucking with me. Me. I didn't fuck with you though. I don't understand. Please don't do this. Whatever this is. Parker, you stole my keys, you fuckers. Me. Parker, you left the keys at my apartment and we just took them to you. But you're saying you've been at my apartment building all this time? Why didn't you just tell us you were still there? Parker. Nah, fuck you guys, you're gonna pay. I feel a cold sweat prickle in my neck as I read the text, my hands trembling. We rushed back and Parker's still in that apartment lobby refusing to leave. Oh my fucking god, why did Timmy invite this crazy man into my apartment? This is insane. I call the police and Timmy looks more than a little panicked as the sirens approach. See you in a bit, he yells. I'll explain later. He runs off, leaving me standing here, wondering what the hell is going on even more than before, alone as the police arrive. What the actual fuck? I explain everything, mortified and apologizing profusely. I'm really sorry. I feel ridiculous calling you out here. It's just I don't know what's going on with Parker. I don't know him. My fiance brought him here, and then he just started acting crazy. My cheeks are burning. My uncle, a career officer, would be rolling in his grave if he knew what was happening right now. No no, a female officer sees her face kind. This is what we're here for. Parker comes running past, chased by two officers. Timmy O'Malley has a warrant out for his arrest, he yells. He's the one you should be looking for. What's that about? The officer asks, glancing at me. Who's Timmy O'Malley? My fiance, I explain. He has an outstanding warrant, she quirks a brow. I shrug, not that I'm aware of. I don't know anything about that. A while later the cops leave, promising to file a report and confirming that Parker's banned from the premises for the next two hours. I dialed Timmy's number, my hands shaking. I'm so upset that he ran away and I just don't understand. The girl's voice answers the phone. Hello. Okay, and what the actual fuck. He's a really nice guy and he's getting blamed for things that aren't his fault, she says before abruptly hanging out. I text him, mate. You're hanging out with some random girl. You left me when I called a cops. You told me to let someone into my apartment who then tried to ruin it. Timmy, I just moved in. This is so embarrassing and I'm so confused. Timmy, I'm so so sorry. I'll be back soon. I'll explain everything, I promise. I don't know who the girl is. A bunch of teenagers just saw I was upset. She grabbed my phone. I was so mad when she did that. Can you meet me down a side street? So we walk back in together. Me, of course. A knot of anger tightens in my chest. I've just had to call the police in my first four weeks in this new neighborhood. The only impression I've managed to make so far is of someone who can't handle my own friends, or my fiance's at least. He sends me a pin with his location and I walk to meet him. He's a couple of blocks away and I meet him down a side street. I'm so sorry. He hugs me to him, kissing the top of my head. I feel numb. I freaked out, he explains. There's a warrant and it's for a traffic thing, and I really didn't want him to lock me up and arrest me. But you left me with the cops by myself, I frowned. That's awful. It's your friend that came and threatened to damage my home and you abandoned me. I had an ex with a warrant once. Some concealed weapons charge. That guy got real twitchy about that too, whenever he was around cops. But still it feels wrong that Timmy ran away and left me to deal with this by myself. Yeah, I know, he sighed. I feel so bad about that. I've seen Parker be a bit weird from time to time, but he's never threatened to break someone's stuff or get violent like that. I don't know what was up with him. Maybe he was doing a bunch of drugs before we met up or something, because that's not now how he normally acts. I'd never have invited him around if it was. I know he'd been taking shrooms. Well, I feel like I'm at risk of getting kicked out of my apartment. I've been here less than two weeks and I've already had the cops come to the property. They're going to think I'm a problem tenant. No, no, no, he says quickly. It was a one-off, I promise you. There's no way we'll invite Parker over again. I won't invite anyone over again except for myself. Who was the girl who answered your phone? There were some teenagers on the beach. They saw me crying and they just sat with me once. I told them what happened. She seemed to know you. I know, I was so upset when she grabbed my phone. I don't know her or why she acted like she knew who I was. They were just all hanging out and were trying to help me to not be upset. They felt sorry for me. I sigh, feeling incredibly inflated. Okay, I'm so embarrassed about all of this. I know I'm really, really sorry. Can we just go inside quickly and have a nice night? I don't want to think about this anymore. I just want to get up to the room and cuddle with you and forget this all ever happened. I'm really sorry about Parker. I can't believe he did that. I just want to not think about it anymore. Okay, yeah, just let's go inside. We slip past the concierge and they give us a look that says everything. A sort of judgment that makes me shrivel into a tiny ball, like I've brought chaos into a place that would otherwise have been calm. Did you see that look he just gave us? I asked Timmy as we ride up in the elevator, his hand clenched tight around mine. He frowns. Yeah, I did what it dick. I'm very sorry. He pulls me to him and kisses me on the head. Everything's going to be okay. Later in the night, as I lay next to Timmy trying to forget everything that happened earlier, my phone dings again. Parker's left a voicemail. Call me if you fucking need help, he's swears. I know you do. Another message comes through shortly after. Parker. I hope you're alive. Still, I really hope you're alive. I don't reply. He texts again, still nonsensical. Parker. Yeah, one moment. Well, I'm still here. Should I make some noise? Want to fuck around? So where are my keys? Or should I just call them the cops? I find text them back. Me. Parker, we were by your house and your keys are at your car now. Not sure what you'd need to call them for. You left your keys at my house and we bought them to you. Parker, I've got no fucking problem. Timmy's the one who's got a few cases. There are government keys on that chain. This isn't going to end well. It's funny. You were the only one with the problem. A few more minutes go by, Parker. Funny I know the property manager, someone couldn't show up to voice his opinions. Oh, you've got a warrant? I'm fucked with this castle. Glad I bought drinks. Good night, everyone. With a sigh, I turned my phone off, which I rarely do, wanting nothing more than to sink into sleep and pretend this entire nightmare didn't happen. But I can't shake the feeling that no matter how much Timmy promises otherwise, we've somehow brought chaos to Sunset K and it's not going to let go of us anytime soon. My reaction to this chapter, this whole thing was surreal. I remember feeling a weird sensation in my gut when Timmy got all excited about this engagement party, and he texted what felt like a hundred people, and no one could make it, which seems strange. I get that it was last minute, but surely someone who claimed to have so many friends could drum up some friends to come to something as important as even an impromptu engagement party. I guess that was my first hint that perhaps all of the people he claimed to know so well were more acquaintances, and that most of his friendships were little more than a sacrificial knowing of someone for the most part. His boss not giving the money brought out another side of it to me too. There was a rage and a sense of entitlement. In the moment, it was easy to put that down to him being protective over me and wanting to celebrate our engagement. It did make me a bit uneasy, though, that he suggested a simple celebration that he then couldn't afford. And then Parker showing up. All I've heard about Parker previously was that he was a problem, that he'd been uh Timmy's supervisor, that he had an alcohol problem and it had been fired from his job. And now here he was to save the day. Then he ruined the day and acted like an absolute psycho. I was so mortified having to call the cops. Um, especially I mean, I was yeah, I had just moved to Sunset K or to Hawaii, and here I was calling the cops. The stranger had been in my apartment. I had trusted Timmy that this guy was responsible. But then, in terms of the behavior and anyone doing anything wrong to necessitate the cops being called, everything seemed to be tied back to Parker. When Timmy ran away from the cops, it was obviously really concerning and confusing. The whole warrant and arrest and what have you situation wasn't a world that I operated within. So I didn't really understand much about warrants or what was happening. And Timmy was simply so good at explaining everything away and making everybody else seem like the problem, and as if anything directed at him was merely a misunderstanding. So I put it down to just being a really shitty day that started off really well and turned into something horrible. Chapter 39, the past, grandfather, I never trust a person who doesn't like animals. It suggests they have no empathy. The present. I really want to take you to feed the ducks to Migrant. It's really fun. Okay, I used to love doing it when I was little. It's been a while. I think back to my mother dressing me up in way too many layers, a puffy coach and a woollen hat, and taking leftover white bread down to the creek. We'd throw chunks of it in the water while the ducks quacked, and eventually I'd get a bit overwhelmed as they swarmed around me. It was a fun, innocent memory I hadn't thought of in years. But apparently it's something Timmy hasn't outgrown, and it's just another cute and interesting thing about him. He grabs some bread from the convenience store and takes me to a little pond with a fountain near the beach. As he throws out chunks of white bread, the pigeons come and land all over him. He laughs with delight as they perch on his arms and his head. I laugh too. I've never seen anything like it. I even take a video because the man is literally covered in birds. The ducks quack and honk from the pond as they waddle up to his legs. He's like this weird bird man and he laughs with joy as he becomes surrounded by and covered in feathered breath. I love that he loves animals. He seems to live for them. His joy is so palpable when he points out parrots that live in the palm trees, mongooses zooming across the grass, seagulls chilling on the shoreline, koi in the ponds. It's beautiful quality loving animals this way. And I associate it with trust and empathy. Animals seem to have a sick sense about people, and every animal I've seen has gravitated toward her. Dogs at the beach, these birds. I can't wait to see what Saber truly thinks of him when he gets home. I bet they're gonna love each other. I watched Timmy Long water along the pathway for a bit, and then we return to the truck. Wait here, he says. Why? What are you gonna do? It's better if you don't know. Timmy, I'm not just gonna sit in the truck and wait while you go do some mystery thing. Tell me what's happening, please. He rolls his eyes. Calm down, Margot. I'm just gonna steal someone else's registration tag so I can put them on the truck. You're what now? See, I knew you'd have that reaction. He rolls his eyes and frowns. That's why I didn't want to tell you, but it's what I'm gonna do and you can't stop me. I feel sick. I sit in the truck and I'm shaking. Is he joking? It seems like a very specific thing he's doing and not a joke. Jesus. His behavior's starting to make me feel more and more uneasy. I don't want to be around someone who does stuff like this. After about ten minutes, he runs back and does something to the back of the truck, presumably putting a stolen tag on it. There, done. He's out of breath and seems accelerated by the whole thing. He speeds us away. We had to run. If the cops find me, they'll lock me up. It's a crime, you know, of stealing someone else's registration. Well, yes, Timmy, theft is a crime. My heart is racing. I feel like I've been sitting in a getaway car waiting for someone to rob a bank. I can't believe you just did that. Neither can I, says Timmy, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling. It was amazing. Not the word I would use, but okay. Reckless, unnecessary stealing. Those are the words I would use. Why didn't you just go and pay for your registration like everyone else rather than stealing someone else's? Too expensive. He shakes his head. Then he grins again. They're nowhere near as fun. You can't just steal other people's shit, Timmy. That person's gonna be fucked if the cops notice they don't have tags. And they did what people are meant to do, paid for their own registration. He grinned. I know, suckers know Timmy that called adulting, you have to pay for the stuff. You can't just take it from someone else. Not me, derelict or lie. My stomach turns. I think this is my first real ick moment with Timmy, although there have been a few other incidents that have left me feeling less uncomfortable. I know everything a partner does isn't gotta be pleasing, but I had an ethical problem with theft. And just the general premise that he thinks it's okay to take something that someone else worked hard for just to make his own life easier. Nobody wants to pay for car registration. Literally nobody. And everybody else has other things that prefer to spend their money on. But Timmy thinks for some reason he gets to take this thing someone else paid for just because he wants it. But I pushed my thoughts back down. I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I'm way too uptight and I've always been considered a gritty two shoes. People probably do this stuff all the time. I wouldn't personally. But I'm sure he's not the only person who's done it, right? Ugh, I don't fucking know. There are so many good things about Timmy. If the odd questionable action is all I have to worry about, I just need to calm down. We can work on his ethics over time. It's gonna be fine. He drives us to the top of a hill where roosters are roaming around in a pack, and the view is incredible, a sprawling panorama looking out over large fancy houses to the beach. The ocean seems to go on river, the coast peppered with palm trees and golden sand. Timmy jumps over the cobbled wall lining the sidewalk and hoses himself off. He pours water into his mouth and blows it at me in a thick spout that falls near my feet, and then he does a ridiculous dance with the hose, a massive grin plastered across his face. I laugh and laugh, feeling lighter as he puts on his little show just for me. Okay, now let's go over to where I grew up. I want to show you some more of that area. His eyes are sparkling and he seems excited, and I'm totally fine having my very own cute surfer tour guide. The moment we crest the hill and the other side of the coast comes into view, I feel a little knot forming at my stomach. The energy has shifted again. It's only the second time we've been over this way, but I can feel the same sort of agitation emanating from Timmy that I experienced the first time when we came to meet up with Steve. It's not any one thing that tips me off to how he's feeling. His words pour out a little faster, his movements get a little more rapid and less intentional. He drives a little faster, and the stories start to flow from him. Things he shared before about where he lived with his ex-girlfriend's family on the beachfront, the time he went up to another friend's rooftop, moments he spent at the dirt bike track and driving trucks around in the mud. It's almost as if these stories are some type of playlist that play on a loop whenever he crests this hill. He drives us to a lookout with a pretty view of the ocean. He starts talking to a random guy and hands him a shared drink. The man is unkinked, clearly on some kind of drug, and his mouth is lined with little drops of spittle. I'm annoyed. I don't share drinks with other people other than my significant other or maybe a close friend, and here Timmy is handing the can I just bought to some random nasty guy in a parking lot by the beach. While he continues talking to the strange man, I wander around and notice a bunch of stray cats hanging out at the other end of the parking lot. Preferring their company, I walk over to them and they observe me with a cat's typical lazy casual arrogance. I snap a few pictures and eventually make my way back to the vehicle. Timmy finally returns and hands me the can. No thanks, I say, pushing it away. What's wrong? he asks. You let that random guy sip out of our can, that gross. He looks shocked, a scornful smirk playing across his face. Are you fucking serious? Yes, I don't share drinks with strangers. It's disgusting. Jesus, Margot, you're so fucking uptight and rude. I share things with people, it's who I am as a person. His words are like a slap. He does seem very generous, always offering to help people, and he's been so generous with me, helping me to get my apartment set up and cooking for me. But I'm not going to flick a switch and suddenly get over my hair of germs from strangers. Well, I haven't had COVID yet, and there's a reason for that. It's who I am as a person. I'm very picky about what I put in my mouth. He smirks. I know, that's what she said. I laugh, and so does he. But then his expression shifts again. There's nothing wrong with sharing Margo. You need to stop being so selfish. The alcohol kills the germs anyway. A quirk of brow, does it though? He nods his eyes narrowly. Yes, and fuck you for complaining, because I was just talking to him about spray painting his car up like this truck. He might be paying me $350 all because I was nice enough to check him for a bit and give him a sip of our drink. But all you want to do is complain about it. So if you'd like me to go back over there and say that sorry, my fiancee doesn't want me to have anything to do with you and thinks you're gross, so you can keep your $350, I will. Is that what you want me to do? His words make me feel a bit foolish, and I look down. It's great if he's able to get some work out of the guy. Maybe I was a bit quick to judge him, even if he was sitting at a beach park drinking by himself in the middle of the day. And it would be helpful if Timmy could get more jobs like this. It's just different from how I would approach a situation, that's all. He's right. I'm just too uptight. We drive a bit further and stop at his hometown beach. He hops in the water and floats around for a bit while I watch. Being in the ocean seems to calm him, and when he gets back I can tell he's more settled and chilled out. He pulls up to the side of the road on a random side street and I take another funny video of him dancing with a hose and pretending to threaten to splash me with a huge grin on his face. He drives out to a parking area behind a nondescript strip mall. There's a door covered in bright graffiti. I'm banned from that bar, he says a hint of pride in his voice. I quirk a brow for what? Oh, it was just the misunderstanding, not a big deal. A guy walks past on his way to the graffiti door and glances over the truck and then at Timmy. He does a double take. Oh Maui, he calls out, grinning from ear to ear. Timmy's eyes grow wide and he beams. Hey man, it's been forever. How are things? He comes up to the car and nods at me and smiles. He's got long, thick dreadlocks and he's missing a few of his frack teeth, but he seems friendly enough. Timmy gestures at me. This is my missus, Margot, he grints. We just got engaged. Margot, this is dog fucker. His friends have weird nicknames. They've no intention of asking how this guy's. Wow, that's awesome, you guys. Congratulations. He shakes my hand through the window. You coming inside? He gestures his head toward the door. Nah, can't. Timmy shakes his head. Still bang. Oh man, that sucks, the guy lets out a low whistle. Well if you want to do a bump, I can bring some out. Thanks, man, I'll let you know, says Timmy. Okay, sweet, the guy says and then heads inside. Timmy looks at me, his eyes sparkling. Or should we go get a bump? Can we just go? I asked Browning, and not as wedging itself within my insides. I just have a really icky feeling. No, I don't want to go and do drugs outside at bar that Timmy banned from with random net toothless man and a dog fucker. I'm starting to get a bad feeling about Timmy and the people he chooses to acquaint himself with. He seems sketchy, not someone I'd ordinarily hang around with. Not trying to be judgmental, but this isn't how he presented himself to me up until now. Maybe I was missing some signs and ignoring others, but I feel really out of my element. Timmy lets out a massive sigh and rolls his eyes, his frustration exaggerated. Fine, yes, well fucking go because you want to, Margot. My reaction to this chapter, I still remember feeling really sick when Timmy stole the registration from the other car, and it was the first time we began to see that something was really wrong that he couldn't blame on anyone else. Um that his concept of right and wrong was heavily skewed and that he'd convinced himself it was perfectly okay. I don't think that taking a frying pan skillet serving dish from the brunch restaurant was great. Um, obviously I disagreed with it and it didn't make me feel good, but this seemed like another step. Like actually removing a registration tag, which is kind of like a government document, was just taking things one step further in a direction that I didn't feel comfortable with. It was also the first time that Timmy got really angry with me over the hanging out with the random guy in the parking lot and sharing his drink. That whole situation was creepy. It wasn't gonna be the last time something like that would happen. Of course, this is some foreshadowing, but I just felt really thrown off by everything and uneasy off the kilter.

SPEAKER_01 33:04

On to the next chapter.

SPEAKER_00 33:09

We drive through the rain, tropical sun showers drizzling down and bursts, the drop glistens on palm fronds and puddles, catching little moments of sunshine between the clouds. It's beautiful the way the K breathes through these fleeting storms, a quick soak before the sun returns. I can already picture how perfect this is going to look on a thick top reel. At the grocery store, Timmy bounces with excitement. Fill me, fill me. I giggle as he grabs an eggplant from a produce stand, twirling it like a baton. He's totally shameless, dancing and making exaggerated faces, not caring for a moment that people are watching. It's something I've never encountered before. A guy who's not just unbothered by looking ridiculous, but seems to swibe on it. He's not performing for anyone's approval, he's performing for attention, good or bad. He's having fun and it's infectious. The kind of lightheartedness I didn't realize I needed in my life. Back at the apartment, Timmy reaches for his toolback. Fill this, he says, pulling out random objects one by one. Here's a tiny skateboard, he shows the camera. It's for tiny people to skate on. I laughed, shaking my head at his random antics. Where do we even find this stuff? Usually on the beach, he shrugs. Anyway, our TikTok's gonna be epic, he declares. When I'd floated the idea of having an account where we share our outings across the K, he'd been totally on board. That's one of the really fun things about Timmy. He's usually up for anything. His eyes sparkle with excitement as he practically bounces on the balls of his feet. Is this gonna be like a podcast? he asked, just like the last time we discuss it. I tried to suppress a smile. Well, not exactly. TikToks are different from podcasts, I explained. TikToks are more like short form videos, fun, quick, snippet. Podcasts are usually audio with maybe a video recording on the side. He looks momentarily crestfallen. And we're doing the podcast. I laugh, shaking my head. No, to me, we're doing TikToks. He rallies immediately. Okay, so that means we need videos, right? I want to do the video one where people can see me.

unknown 35:01

Ah.

SPEAKER_00 35:02

He's so excited, has eyes wide. We're gonna go to a bar and I'm gonna make a scene, like a huge scene. I feel a bit weary. You don't need to do that. We don't need to make a scene or stage anything crazy. People will just really enjoy watching videos of our adventures around sunset. Okay. The place is interesting enough on its own, and we don't need to upset anyone who's just trying to relax. His face falls for real this time. So, like, we don't need to come up with entire events where we make weird stuff happen, like prakes and stuff. No huge scenes where we just mess with people. I laugh. No, no, other people do that, but where we live and how we live our lives is interesting enough on its own. We don't need to concoct scenarios, we can just be and film some of it. That's all. Just us being us, I promise. Enough. He pauses for a moment, processing this new plan. Okay, okay, I guess I was just thinking of something different, but what you said is cool too. There's a flicker of disappointment, like he's a kid, and I've just told him you can't eat all this Halloween candy in one sitting. But then he beams, his enthusiasm rebounding.

SPEAKER_01 36:00

Our TikToks are gonna be amazing. You'll see.

SPEAKER_00 36:06

Later, back in the kitchen, Timmy watches me set out the ingredients for dinner. Wait, wait, he says quickly arranging them on and around the cutting board before snapping a picture. Perfect, he mounts is holding up his phone to show me. I laugh, delighted. Well, that's so random. I do that all the time too. I pull up my Instagram to show him similar photos I've taken. Wooden chopping boards covered in colorful produce and neat piles of herbs. He looks at my pictures, his grin widening. See, we're totally on the same wavelength. It feels like another little sign, such a random coincidence, the confirmation that this rule wind connection is really meant to be. As I chop and saute, Timmy stays close, asking questions about the methods I'm using. He's fascinated by how the chickpeas turn into these spicy, fragrant patties. Wait till you mash them first, yups, wide eye, as if I'm revealing some great culinary secret. Yep, it helps to bind everything together, I explain, as I add more garlic and spices to the mix. He even helps with some of the prep, happily mashing chickpeas and chopping tomatoes, sneaking bites here and there. And pretty soon the wraps are ready, filled with spicy falo, crunchy romaine, juicy tomatoes, a ton of garlic yogurt, and hot sauce. Oh, and red onions, of course. I'm obsessed with raw onions. And cilantro, too. Timmy dives in without hesitation. Oh my god, he moans around the first bite. I'd only tried this one time at a food truck, but this blows everything out of the water. Oh, thank you, I laughed, taking a bite. I think he overdid the baking soda, but it's decent, definitely full of flavour. No, no, no, he shakes his head emphatically. This is perfect the way it is. Better than perfect. I think it might be one of the best things I've ever tasted, honestly. He pulls me into a tight hug, burying his face in my hair with crumb covered lips and kisses my forehead tenderly. I can't believe you can cook this well too. You really are like the perfect woman for me. I feel a warm glow on my chest, tilting my face up so her lips meet. It's not just a compliment, it's the way he says it, like he's genuinely in awe of me. I know it's just blackful, but his enthusiasm makes me feel like I just cook it cooked him a Michelin star meal. You're amazing, he murmurs, his lips brushing mine again. How do I ever get this lucky? I can't stop smiling. He really is this excited about me, about us, and the way he sings I genuinely love spicy food. What's war onions makes my heart flutter because that's hard to find. Feels good to be appreciated to have someone so openly thrilled about the little things. Not that my exes haven't enjoyed the food I've made for them, but he seems like a simple guy who knows what he likes, and apparently he really likes flopple and me. I've only had one girlfriend cook for me before, he says between bites, and that was years ago back in my twenties. You make me feel so special doing this for me. His words feel like another gift, wrapping me in warmth and validation. Well, really? I love cooking for people, I say. Not a lot of guys updated could cook, but everything you've made so far has been so good, seasoned perfectly. You really know what you're doing. I've never met anyone like you. He grins, leaning down to kiss me again. I'm so in love with you, Margot. I love you too, Timmy. After we finish eating, Timmy pulls out his phone and posts the photo of our ingredients to his Instagram. The caption reads, When she makes you full of all you propose. I burst out laughing. Are you serious? He beans, completely serious. You're incredible. I want everyone to know it and to know that you're mine. He's announcing this to the world, announcing us to the world. Any thoughts of him being embarrassed of me, any lingering doubts about him hiding a relationship float away. He's not worried about other girls seeing this. He's telling everyone who knows him that I am his person. He's proud that we're together and he's making that obvious. In this moment I feel truly special, truly, deeply special. There's no hesitation, no game playing, just Timmy, loud and proud, telling the world how much he loves me. And it turns out he's passionate about cooking too. We talk for hours about our favorite dishes, sharing ideas and swapping stories. He's so creative, mentioning healthy broths bursting with umami, venison, burritos using meat from the dead he hunted when he visited Steve a few months back, and fried rice packed with veggies. I can't wait for you to trade everything I make, he says eagerly. I'm gonna cook for you all the time. I feel something I didn't expect, excitement over someone else cooking for me. I've grown so particular over the years, careful about what I eat to stay fit and healthy. But with Timmy, I look forward to his next culinary experiment. His passion matches mine and it feels like our cooking sales we complement each other perfectly. It's just one more way he fits into my life, like we're meant to find each other. And as I imagine the meals we'll make together, the laughter we'll share, and the adventures still ahead. I know I've found something special. With Timmy, life feels exciting again. I love the way you speak with me, he says. You're so affectionate. It makes me feel so special. You make me feel big and strong. You are big and strong. You're my protector. He beans. I'm so googly-eyed, my heart is about to burst out of my chest. He gives me the biggest butterflies I've ever felt. Because he wants me and he adores me. And I've been so honest about who I was and who I am, and he devours every word of it, like everything I tell them makes them love me more. I feel trust, pure trust. It's freeing, it's wonderful. And I can't get enough of this. Like every little thing, cooking dinner, filming TikToks, grocery shopping, and dancing with Eggplant can be an adventure. How he even makes showering fun. And I can't wait to see where this adventure takes us. My reaction to this chapter. This was a really nice few hours. He was funny and everything felt extra light and free. And it was if it undid all the heaviness that had happened immediately before that. It made me feel like we had space for it all. And pointed everything particularly chaotic squarely back to Parker. I could easily push the parking lot incident and argument out of my head. And it was nice to be with someone who cooked, who appreciated what I cooked and who wanted to make food for me. That's all for this episode. Have you ever been in a toxic relationship with someone like Timmy? What's the first thing they did that gave you a massive ick? Did a friend ever try to intervene? Would you have listened if they did? I'll be back soon with the next episode where Timmy's behavior, surprise, surprise, is gonna continue to escalate. In the meantime, remember to like, subscribe, and share with your friend. And remember, it was never you, it wasn't your fault, and you're not too much.