Asian Zing Attacks
It’s going on about a year I’ve regularly been banging Asian Zing. Having a crazy little hot Asian chick on hand to bang at any moment worked out really well, situations like the ‘Tacos And Blow Jobs’ chapter happened almost daily. But being one who easily dismisses any female nagging I guess I never noticed she wanting to be something other than fuck buddies. The blame could be laid on me, as my mistake was assuming she knew me well enough not to expect anything else, but never underestimate the female specie’s inability to have casual sex without getting attached.
The beginning of the end you could say began with a short conversation I had with her New Years Eve:
Asian Zing: Why haven’t I met any of your friends or family?
BD: You’re not hot enough.
Women complain and bitch and tell you that they hate when men lie to them….well, they hate it more when you tell them the truth. Trust me.
Later that night I took her and her cousin, along with some other friends, out in downtown Venice Beach. We were at a bar called The Brig which lucky for me had lockable bathrooms. Openly flirting with the hot bartender all night I would only break my attention from her long enough to take Asian Zing into the bathroom every half hour for a quickie. Also never underestimate the female specie’s propensity for jealousy. One of the easiest ways to get a chick is to playfully and casually flirt with her but blatantly hook up with someone else right in front of her. Tonight this rule will be beautifully exemplified.
To make a long, albeit fun, story short, the night ended up with Asian Zing sitting on the couch in my TV room, her cousin outside my locked bedroom door banging on it while drunkenly screaming, and me in my room with the hot bartender from The Brig bar we were just at. The hot bartender walked down to my house after she got off and partied with us. But the details of this story are for another book, sorry.
Shortly after this night the crazy started. Asian Zing never really had a problem with me being BD, but the BD show happening right in front of her cousin tripped some sort of mental breaker in her head which unleashed the wrath of the Indonesian Godzirra.
I sit down with my roommates to watch some TV and explain to them that Asian Zing is going nuts right now and to not let her in the house and alert me if she shows up. During this conversation I’m getting text after text after text. Initially my two female roommates were suspicious of my allegations because they’ve only known the sweet little girl that cooks us dinner a few times a week and cleans the house whenever she shows up. They also didn’t believe me when I told them she texted me 271 times yesterday. I placed my phone on the coffee table between us so they could see the current texts coming in at a rate of three or four per minute.
They picked up my phone and went through the texts in disbelief, telling me the texts said she is currently outside and wants to see me because her Aunt just died today. With the roommates still thinking I am the asshole here I had to tell them that yesterday her Grandma died, and the day before her cousin died, and the day before that her sister-in-law died. So either Mao Si Tung lives and is exterminating one of her family members daily or this bitch is nuts. They started to get the picture.
If that wasn’t convincing enough, the events over the next two days did the trick. I got home that night from work to find my room trashed and prescription pills all over the floor and bed. Asian Zing was a pharmacist, which was beneficial in many ways. I had been stockpiling stuff she had stolen from her work for my eventual move back to Vegas. Everyone in Vegas is a pill popper, so that shit is like currency back home.
It looks like she had taken the day off work, went to my house, broke in, trashed my room and taken all the pill bottles that I had stashed away in my closet. How she broke the bottles open and got pills all over the room I don’t know but for fucks sake we have a dog and two cats in that house!
This freaked out my roommates enough to suggest I get a restraining order against her so she legally couldn’t come to the house. At first I laughed at the idea…a restraining order against a 5’ tall little Asian girl? Yea right. But later that night I started getting notices from my bank that my online passwords had been reset. Hmmm, then my brokerage account was changed. Even attempts to change my Gmail password, Facebook, My blogs and any online identities I maintain. I received probably 80 notifications from all of them that night.
The rest of the night I was doing damage control. When I finally accessed my banking information I noticed that I must be more philanthropic that previously thought, because I have been regularly wiring money to Asia. When I called Western Union they wouldn’t tell me which country specifically it went to, or who, unless I had a police report, just the continent. Seemed like an odd policy but it was more than enough clues for me to figure out it wasn’t Professor Plum with the candlestick that committed international wire fraud. While I was killing the time on hold browsing my other transactions I noticed I’ve been paying a T-Mobil bill and several other vendors I don’t use, some of which I couldn’t read because I didn’t have the “Asian character font pack” installed on my OS. Of course.
It’s about this time I started to suspect the several flat tires I’ve had the last few days, my missing pink slip and spare key, and the hundreds of texts, emails and instant messages might be related. Add to that the many harassing Craigslist ads posted of female friends of mine with their pictures and phone numbers on them. Apparently the sneaky ninja Asian Zing had stolen my phone when I passed out with the password not set and done some research. She also broke into the house again, twice, and had a verbal altercation with one of my roommates before I finally decided to go down and get a restraining order.
The next morning I drive over to the beautiful Santa Monica L.A. County courthouse to make it official. This building is gorgeous and right on the beach. The novelty of the morning wore off as soon as I walked into the room to get the papers. Standing in the middle of about 25 40-year-old females I realize that I am the sole male seeking protection from the government for a crazy person.
A large group of petite, cackling trophy wives all newly divorced getting restraining orders against the men they plan to take half their money from….and me, a six foot three inch tall 32 year old male scared of a less than five foot tall chick barely weighing 90lbs. Emasculated doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt that morning. I put my head down, grab the papers and go up to the clerk’s window. It is set up similar to a bank with plexiglass between myself and the workers without any holes in it, which means I have to raise my voice so the clerk, and all the cackling hens in the room, could hear.
The clerk is a large black male that probably has a side gig as a bouncer at The Brig bar. He smiles as I walk up, eager to hear the story behind this one…
Clerk: Yo, what you need help wit bro?
BD: I don’t know what to put where, this form is greek to me.
Clerk: Coo coo, what’s her name?
BD: Asian Zing (naturally I gave her real name)
Clerk: Coo coo, how long you been in a relationship with her?
BD: Oh no no! I don’t do relationships.
Clerk: Ha ha, cool bro, but how long you been banging her?
BD: About a year I guess.
Clerk: What’s her birthday?
BD: Fuck if I know.
Clerk: Do you know how old she is?
BD: Shit, no I guess I don’t.
At this point the entire room is listening to our conversation….
Clerk: No prob no prob, what’s her address?
BD: No clue. Never been to her place. I think she said she lives in Culver City though…
Clerk: Ha, well, ok. Do you know where she works?
BD: Nope, but I’m pretty sure she’s a pharmacist.
Clerk: Bro, you’re telling me you been banging this broad for a year and you don’t know anything about her?
BD: I don’t really listen when she talks.
The entire room tries to muffle their laughter…
Clerk: Does she have a cell phone?
BD: I definitely know that shit, I just found out I been paying her cell phone bill the last few months.
Now all the clerks and divorcees have surrounded me, watching and listening to this conversation while openly laughing…
Clerk: You a fool bro, hahahah. Take these papers to the judge and he will sign off on it, but you’re gonna have to serve these yourself yo, the sheriffs will laugh at you if you don’t give them any information about her.
BD: Good advice, thanks. I think you and my audience here, laughing at my situation is more than enough for today.
Papers filed. Court date set. I garnered 1.21 jiggawatts of energy and bolted the hell outta that taxpayer funded estrogen pressure cooker. Court date is six weeks away and during that time I had six more flat tires, two of which I had to replace entirely. Range Rover tires aren’t exactly cheap either, oh well, fuck it, add it to the tab. I figure this bitch has cost me over $2,000 now.
I’m looking forward to having this be over. The night before the court date I took my packet of papers and evidence into the house to go over one last time. I had all of her emails, IMs, texts, phone calls, Craigslist harassments, email hacking, banking fraud and even her stolen pill bottle lot numbers documented, she is in for a really bad day tomorrow. Before I fell asleep I took the entire packet of information and placed it on the passenger seat in my truck so all I had to do was wake up, get dressed and drive down to the courthouse.
So naive it was of me to think that she had already played her trump card. When I woke up, I got dressed, said bye to the roommates as they wished me good luck at court and walked out to my truck….which wasn’t there. More often than not I forget where I parked it the previous night coming home from the bars, so this isn’t too unusual, except for the fact that I just put the court papers in it the night before, literally six hours ago. I walked back in the house…
Roommate: You forget something?
BD: No, can I get a ride though when you go to work?
Roommate: Of course! Do you have another flat tire?
BD: No this time she just stole the whole fucking thing.
Both roommates gasp in total awe of the shenanigans of the Indonesian Godzirra…
BD: Yup. This is my life.
I got dropped off at the police station, filed a stolen vehicle report and called work. They sent the hot intern to come get me and take me to work in hopes to cheer me up, it worked. I spent the rest of the day retelling Asian Zing stories to coworkers and calling Shitass and friends to update them on the latest developments.
One of the coworkers I always tell these stories to is a cute chick I called “Certain Angles”. From certain angles she looks hot as hell. From other angles not so much. She lives right next to me and this was a great excuse to ask for a ride home and hang out with her. To my surprise not only was she excited to take me home she didn’t even want to drive me straight home, she saw a car-less BD as a captive audience and told me “You’re partying with me for as long as I want tonight”.
It worked out awesome for me because I didn’t even have any money to spend with my bank account frozen because of Asian Zing’s previous antics and couldn’t pay any tabs, so she willingly paid for everything. I felt like a damn escort some parts of that night. Just look pretty, be funny and you’ll get a free night out. OK, will do. She drove me around all night, barhopping all the places I frequent. Shocked she was to see that every bartender lit up when I walked in and yelled out “BeeeeDeeeee!” like I was Norm from Cheers.
Certain Angles: Geez BD, you really do party as much as you say huh?
BD: This is my life. It’s what I do. You have to play to your strengths and do what you’re good at my mom always said.
Certain Angles: You’re gonna have to drive us home, I’m too drunk.
BD: What?! How are you gonna get home?
Certain Angles: Just stay the night at my place I’ll take you home in the morning.
I never thought that Asian Zing stealing my truck would get be laid…but it did. I also didn’t think that Certain Angles would look hotter naked than with her clothes on….but she did. The next day she took me to work and asked if I would need a ride home again…
BD: Yep, if you could that would be great thanks.
Certain Angles: No problem. Wow I was drunk last night. Thanks for driving.
BD: No biggie, but that’s a slick way to ensure you get laid though…having me stay the night at your place. Sneaky.
Certain Angles: I barely remember the drive home last night. Was I talking dumb? Did I say anything stupid?
BD: If you were talking on the drive back I couldn’t hear you because you had something in your mouth the whole time.
The coffee she was sipping at that moment ended up on her dash.
Certain Angles: Ummmm, wow. I guess that explains why my center console is broken and in my back seat.
BD: I suppose it would.
Certain Angles: Want to repeat the party tonight?
BD: Yes I do.
At another bar that night around 11pm I got a call from LAPD saying they had recovered my vehicle. It was found about a block away in an alley with the doors open. Tires were flat but there was no other damage. When I get to the police impound lot the next day (with my mom because I had no way of paying the $376 to get it out with my accounts now frozen) I did an inventory of the items inside it.
Items Found Still Inside:
$81 In Cash
Apline head unit, Amp, Subs
My package of court papers and evidence
I don’t need CSI Las Vegas to figure out what the fuck happened here. Asian Zing stole my truck with the previously stolen spare key so I wouldn’t make it to court that morning to get her in trouble. She saw the packet of official looking court documents on the passenger seat and took them. I’m assuming she went through them; saw the meticulous documentation of everything she had done, along with evidence of her stealing narcotics from her work, because I never heard a peep from her since. She got the point and I’m happy with that. I never really wanted to get her in trouble, I just wanted to be left alone, so it ended up working out better this way.
In the end, Godzirra ended up costing me about $3500 when it was all said and done. But definitely the climax of all these events was when I first noticed my e-trade account was being used as well. My bank account closed, I was using my stock trading account for all my transactions during that time. I saw those unauthorized withdraws and cancelled my card immediately.
The only problem with doing this is I had no gas in my truck. I literally had to call my mom and ask for gas money, at 32 years old.
BD: Mom, can I borrow some cash for gas?
Mom: How the hell are you broke?
BD: I had to cancel all my banking stuff, Asian Zing attacked.
Mom: Damnit Brian, why can’t you just date normal women?
BD: I wasn’t dating her mom. But even if I was, normal women just aren’t fun.
Mom: You really need to get your priorities straight.
BD: I’m just trying to practice what I preach. I believe this to be a test of my resolve and belief in what I tell everyone.
Mom: And what exactly might that be?
“You can’t like crazy chicks and get mad when they do crazy things”
Write that down.