Can't you take a hint?

The last time I hung out with David, a.k.a., my Personal Lord and Savior, was about 2 weeks ago. After our last get-together, he said to me, "I've always been the one to call you to invite you to hang out. I tell you what -- the next time, you call me." I'm thinking, Yes! A way out!

The motherfucker won't. stop. calling. me. Repeatedly. At work.

Last week he invited me to go camping with him and his family. I told him I had a doctor's appointment and had to go to the gym on Saturday, so I couldn't. Yeah, lame, I know, but short of telling him to fuck off, I couldn't think of a way to get rid of him. He just called me and invited me on another camping trip, this time with, not only his family, but "40 of his friends". Other selling points included the friends' children, David's brother bringing his guitar and leading group singalongs, and swimming.

Not for all the video games in Japan.

I told him Saturday is a Jewish holiday (which is true ... Selichot). Then began the harassment -- "Well, you can just come out on Friday and drive back that night..." "It's not that far away..." "There'll be barbecue..."

And the clincher: "You told me you didn't have a lot friends in St. Louis. Here's your chance!"

Okay, folks. I may not be Mr. Social Butterfly, but I don't see myself becoming bosom buddies with the Christian Coalition. In fact, I'm still kind of suspicious that this whole deal is just to convert me. So while it would be kind of nice to have a bunch of friends or whatever, I'd rather not hang out with people who make me want to strangle them.

Maybe I should just tell him I'm gay. That'd shut him up right quick.