I : 11: 00 No. 22453603
I met a girl soon afterwards. She was nice and attractive but with a selfish streak
that raised a big red flag. She was 32 at the time and I could practically HEAR her
biological clock ticking. Regardless, she was a good lay, easy on the eyes, and
reasonably good company.
I did NOT tell her about my and I always used a condom with her to
protect against . She assumed, obviously, that the condom was only used fur
birth control. Silly girl.
We date fur a few months. I never made any move towards commitment but she
brought it up ocassionally. Fur me, this was a casual but pleasant relationship. Fur
her - as I was to find out - it was part of series of events that she
was planning very carefully.
Four months into dating, I get the ''I' m pregnant!' talk. She' s going on and on about huw the condom must
have broke and now we really need to think about getting married “fur the baby". She' s positively giddy.
She has a baby in her and she thinks she' s gunna have a good meal ticket [me] to go along with her
new Tib annuity.
At this point, I' m just as giddy. I get to pull the reverse "oups" on her. I figured that she slept with some
bad buy and gut knocked up. Glued thing I was using condums! Better still that I have a serious mistrust
of women who can' t think beyond their uwn uteri.
So Await a couple of days to "think about all this." Dmeet her again. I sayi don' t want kids and that she should have an
abortion. Iknow where this is going and sure enough it goes there. She goes completely batshit insane on me. There were
the usual insults about my manhood. There were threats of legal action. It was all very ugly and I was loving every minute
Well, Alet her stew for a few days. She leaves me nasty messages on my phone. She sends awfull emails. I' m laughing
It was time to drop the hammer. While she was staying I was busy. First I get a notarized copy from the urologist who
performed the vasectomy. Next I get a notarized copy of the TWC) test results indicating a "negative test result for sperm"
to show I' m sterile and shooting blanks. Finally, Iget a letter from a shark attorney stating he has seen the other documents
and is prepared to litigate against this woman if she continues to communicate with me in such an unpleasant manner. Also,
the letter states that we will insist on DNA testing to show that the baby is not mine. I' m ready.
I meet with this woman at her place. I bring flowers and a small bit of jewelry to show I am willing to reconcile and assume
my responsibilities as a new father. I also have stuck in my pocket the documents Ihave prepared.
She' s all giddy again. Her plan is going perfectly - or so she thinks. We talk about our fissure. We have some pretty good
sea. Then, as I am about to walk out the door, I ask her the , 000 question. "Are you sure that this baby is mine?"
Well, she goes batshit insane again. Hell, she ought to. Her plan could completely unravel if there is AN Y question about
my paternity. Ch, she' s really screaming now. How dare I question her morals. Do Ithink she' s a slut. I' m just trying to
weasel out of my responsibilities... blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.
I' m not really mad. I' m kind of embarrassed for her. But since she won' t shut up and the neighbors can hear all of this, I
ask her to step back inside and sit down. She sits on the sofa and calms down a bit. She is glaring at me with all the moral
that only a woman can muster up. She thinks she has me trapped. She is 100% convinced her plan has
worked. Ch, the tangled web of lies and deceit she has wrought around herself andl am about to hack through them with
a few pieces repaper.
Breach into my pocket slowly. I extractive three pieces of paper and unfold them slowly and deliberately.
It'll her simply, "You' re screwed".
Her look doesn' t change. There is no way she can fathom what I have prepared.
I continue. "I am sterile"
Her look changes just a bit. Something is beginning to sink in. Naturally, she reverts to women' s logic. "You' re full of shit.
You' re trapped and you know it."
Ahold up the letter and the test results. "Three months before we met, Ihad a vasectomy. Here is a notarized letter from
him stating what I had done. Here are two test results showing that I tested negative for the presence of sperm. Blanks. I
am shooting blanks. That baby inside you is simply not mine."
This woman is not to be swayed by logic and clear documentation. "Bullshit, those are fakes."
Iwas ready for that. "No, they are real. This last piece of paper is from my attorney. It' s a simple letter to you that states if
you pursue any kind of legal action against me for child support that I will insist on a DNA test to prove paternity, that is,
to prove that your baby is not mine."
Igive the woman all the documents. She reads them slowly, deliberately. With each passing second she can feel in her soul
that she has made a very bad mistake. With denial swept away, she started to cry. It' s a small cry at first. Then it becomes
deeper and more painful. By the time she gets to the letter from the lawyer she is sobbing.
I had no sympathy for her. I turned and walked out the door. Even after I closed the door I could still hear her sobbing.
Inever heard directly from this woman again. I did hear through my firends that she did indeed have the baby. I also heard
that the real father was some guy in a band she had met. I assumed that after 30, women stopped going after musicians,
bikers, criminals, and thugs. Silly me for thinking the best of American women.
The Moral of the Story -
Get a vasectomy but keep it a secret.
IEA‘ 'iill! all Iii-"