Anatomy of a booty call

I yelled at someone with cancer the other day so aside from the inevitable guilt to follow I'm am surely on a bullet train to hell. A guy that I know--

Guy that I know: (n.) man from the age of 25-50 that I have most likely met in the biblical sense and fails to fall into the category of a husband, boyfriend, friend, acquaintance, mailman or doctor.

--sent me a message asking me to come over, presumably for, well, let's call it watching tv. Here's the deal, I love 'watching tv' but I'm not going to be watching tv all over town like I used to. I try to limit my television time to people I know well and people I'm in a relationship with. So right off the bat I come from a place of no on the watching tv together issue. Other factors include:

A.) You live in a pain in the ass faraway land called Andersonville that is a 30 minute train ride and ten minute walk away, or I can spend twenty dollars for a cab one way. So you are not accessible to me.

Also: I am not a delivery service guaranteed hot and under 30 minutes.

B.) You haven't spoken to me in months leading me to believe you were dead, and henceforth I mourned the loss of your 11:50pm tv watching texts.

C.) You weren't even going to tell me you had cancer I had to find out running into you at a store in passing. I then sent two messages checking in which were subsequently ignored thus confirming my hypothesis that you had died. Show's over folks, curtain down, I laughed, I cried, I bought the tee shirt.

D.) Your apartment looks like this:

And what is the guy's rebuttal to my new anti-schtupping clause? "C'mon throw me a pity lay." oh okay, well when you put it that way. I informed him that for that kind of arrangement to work I would in fact have to pity him. Which is-- just, yeah not in this lifetime.

Then, next exhibit in the case of zack v. The 11:50 booty call (aka inconsiderate-o-clock): " I thought we were friends." So obviously this man has a very "loose" definition of the word friend. I'd love to see the dictionary that describes the last 5 years with this goof as a friendship.

The last 5 years:

1. We dated

2. You broke up with me because you met someone cuter

3. You continued to sleep with me despite dating someone cuter

4. You've never once come to a birthday party of mine, had a drink with me, gotten lunch, or sent me a holiday card

5. You continue to hit me up for the next four years in a 100% not a friend tv watching only way

6. You are apparently gobsmacked when I alert you to the fact that we are not friends.

So that happened, I read him the riot act. Great chat, let's have it again in four months when you hit me up again. And I know I should feel bad, cancer and all but he can't throw that in my face, because what was the excuse before? Obviously he exhausted all other hookup options dredged my number out of the dusty call in case of emergency booty book and wanted to roll me out like an understudy.

Yet another candidate for the unrepentant sinner file.