Sprkus

Baumann was in rare form during Friday night’s poker league game. He had been drinking for a good portion of the afternoon in preparation for a second date with a [dancer] he scheduled for 9:30. He was plastered by the third deal and seemed to make it a point to insult every person at the table.

Mine was, “Oh yeah [Rick], why don’t you go make a post about eating a hamburger?”

When he got knocked out of the game — first — he called his date.

“Hello, this is Baumann!” he announced in his hoarse, smashed, teeth-grinding glee.

“What?” You heard the girl ask meekly.

“This is Baumann!” he screamed.

He went in the bathroom, pissed on the floor, grabbed his jacket and took off.

Unluckily for me, it was my jacket. I took his home, which fits me like a leather Snuggie, that night so we could trade back over the weekend.

I called him on Saturday afternoon to arrange the tradeoff and he didn’t have the jacket. He left the jacket at his friend Chrisman’s house in Lancaster and that I may get it on Monday.

Annoyed by his current and habitual disregard for other people’s things, I told him it was bullshit and that he would have the jacket to me by Sunday at the latest and got off the phone.

Only minutes after the phone call via text:

Baumann: Be careful with my jacket its a van heusen

Me: i just shit on it

Baumann: I bet your wearin it right know

Me: i left it at a friend’s in stow

Baumann: No u didn’t.. Your wearin it

Baumann @ 2:07 a.m.: Ive been tryin to reach chrisman all night he has ur jacket.. Im tryin the best i can to get it for you but i cant get ahold of him..

Me on Sunday afternoon: try harder

Baumann: Ill try the best i can

Me: why wouldnt he respond? go get it.

Baumann: What am i supposed to do.. Bust a window and break into his house..

I still don’t have the jacket.