To be fair, insanimus guano is not a gender specific term. There are plenty of batshit crazy guys out there. Mel Gibson. Charlie Sheen. Eddie Murphy. Tom Cruise. They all hold their own in being insanimus guano. But, we are not celebrities. We don’t know their pressure. I will end there because the rest would be just pure bullshit. They are narcissists and narcissists are assholes, regardless of celebrity status. It is when it hits home with someone you know that you really look at them and say, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I was at the bar one night with a bunch of friends. We were having a competition of who dated the most batshit crazy person out there. I considered this research for the Chronicles of Insanimus Guano book. We all told our stories and the competition was fierce. There are some wild insanimus guanos out there. In the end, it was our friend Veronica that took the home the trophy. This is her story.

One night I was out with a few girlfriends having some drinks. They were all going to bail early but I was still wanting a good time. So, I brought out the trusty iPhone and fired up Tinder. I felt like Madeline Kahn in History of the World picking out her eunuchs for the night. No. No. No. No. Yes. No. Yes. No. No. Yes. Yes. I finally found my swipe right. I waited and waited and finally, he swiped right too.

According to his profile he was recently single, a professional, and loved to ski. Whatever! He was single, handsome, and had a job. We agreed to meet up at a local bar that was halfway between where he was and where I was. I paid my bill and off I went to have drinks with Christopher.

I showed up before he did and went straight to the bar. I called over the bartender and ordered myself a Cosmopolitan. She mixed up my drink and it was perfect. I sat their sipping and waiting for Christopher to show up.

He walked in the door five minutes later. Oh he was dapper. He still had his suit on with his tie just loosened below his next. His grey suit fit him perfectly. It looked like I was about to get laid by James Bond. The images raced through my mind and all of them were filthy.

He took a seat next to me. His voice was perfect. It was just low enough to be raspy. He rang of confidence. I took a quick peek at his hands. Nice sized and definitely strong enough to hand me. I took a second measurement of his shoes. Man, he must have had a size 12 at least. Big feet means big cock. Oh, I was going to be a lucky, lucky girl.

We’re talking for a few minutes before a bar tender comes up to take his drink. He ordered a Scotch and soda. Oh, that is a man’s man drink. And to think, I found him on Tinder. The site for desperate people who just want to hook up. What was this guy doing on Tinder? He was the last person I would have thought of as desperate. I didn’t care. He was here with me and I was going to take full advantage of his swipe right.

My favorite bar tender brought his drink over. She set it down and then in an almost whisper said, “Here you are, asshole.”

I looked up in surprise.

He took a sip from his drink, looked up casually, and said, “Oh, hi Maggie, I didn’t know you were working tonight.”

I looked at Mr. Professional. He knew her?

“Yeah, because I only work here every night, asshole.”

Asshole again? What was I in the middle of.

“Maggie, I would like you to meet.” He stopped, looked at me and said, “What’s your name again?”

Oh my God, he didn’t even know my name. Truth be told, he was handsome enough that I could have forgiven that easily enough just to get the chance to rip his clothes off.

Maggie replied for me. “Her name is Veronica, you asshole.”

Wow, she really did not like Christopher.

Maggie then turned her focus to me. She was a captivating woman. Beautiful eyes. Sultry voice. If I was a lesbian, I would definitely want more of her. “Veronica, you seem like a nice girl. Asshole here, is not a nice guy. Under the suit and chiseled chin,” he did have a sexy, chiseled chin, “he just just a narcissistic asshole. This was not an accident that you are here tonight. Asshole and I broke up a year ago. Every month he brings a new girl in to try and make me jealous. It doesn’t work and the poor girl is left as carnage in his narcissistic wake. Do yourself a favor. Pick up your Cosmo, take it to the other end of the bar, and leave this asshole. You do that and your next drink is on me.”

I looked at Christopher. He sat there staring at her with a smug look on his face. Maggie turned her back and walked away. To be honest, I was having mixed feelings. He was very handsome and I really wanted to know what those size 12 shoes equated too. But, my head screamed run, he’s a fucking narcissist.

So, draped my jacket over my arm. I slammed the remainder of my Cosmo. I politely said goodnight and then walked my way to the end of the bar where there was another Cosmo waiting for me from my new friend Maggie. We laughed as Christopher through down some bills. Slammed his own drink and then walked out.

I have dated my share of narcissists in the past, but I never had one so blatantly try to use me to make is ex-girlfriend jealous. That guys was nuts. He was handsome, but inside there was most definitely insanimus guano.