This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events
and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or
used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Not out of the realm of possibility mind you, but purely coincidental.
I was Rob
Ford's girlfriend.
I dated him
on and off from 1987 to 1998. Mostly off.
We met at
the Etobicoke Ribfest. He asked me if I'd like some of his secret sauce on my
ribs. I thought he meant the food I was eating, but no, he meant my ribs.
I thought he was funny.
I thought he was funny.
I was 14 ,
he was 29. I've always had a thing for older men. These days I'm dating William
Shatner, or Bill, as he likes to be called.
I feel confident in saying to you, my friends, that Rob Ford is no
Spock. He's not even Scotty, or Bones, or Lieutenant Sulu, or Captain Pike's yeoman.
Forgive me, I digress. It's the brain damage...
Rob asked me
if I liked ACDC and Rush. I shrugged and said "I dunno". He asked if I liked Guns
and Roses and I said "yeah." Then he handed me a gun and a rose.
We made out
in his Dodge Caravan. He kissed like he was slurping back a beer. I went along
because he was 29, an older man, like Alfred Hitchcock or William Conrad from
the Quinn Martin Production Cannon. I
let him feel my breast, and then almost let him feel my other one, but then I
noticed his brother Doug was in the back seat watching, so I told Rob I'd see
him later, alligator.
Rob was a
giving lover. He gave me weed, booze, crack and once a little cough syrup
because I was coughing. He liked to go down on me, he called his move the "Robbie
Bobbie". One night he got wrecked and didn't want to make out. Instead he
rested his head on my lap and cried, cried about all the times he was bullied
in school. Kids called him fat and stupid and an imbecile, that he was too fat
to play football. He felt so hurt, lonely and worthless. I told him it was
okay, that we all feel like outsiders and losers. It was okay to feel pain,
that we are only human and that kids could be mean and cruel. Then he punched
me in the face.
That's when
I had to leave.
He said
"don't go baby! I won't do it again! I'll show them -- I'll show them all
-- I'll coach football! I'll be a leader among men!"
I downed my
beer, hiked on my jeans and headed for the door.
"Baby
please," he begged, "I'm fine. Stay with me! I'm gonna be someone
someday. I swear one day I'll rule this town! I'll be Mayor of Toronto. I'll be
famous!"
I never saw
him again, until I turned on Sun TV in Toronto and saw him and his brother had
their own show. Too bad it was cancelled, but I hear he's on You Tube now. You
Tube! Can you imagine!
Now Rob
will probably have book deals and a line of BBQ grills and his own brewery and
his own ecstasy stamp.
He might even be on talk shows.
But that's
okay. I don't fault him for capitalizing on his misfortune.
Why?
Because I was Rob Ford's girlfriend -- and for the right price, I will do the
same.
