To read Part II, please click here. To read Part I, click here.

Dawn: “Thanks for the talk last night. I really don’t deserve it, but it’s great to get a compliment from such a talented artist.”

This was the first of many comments that Dawn would leave on Roscoe’s MySpace page. Now Carla’s interest was piqued. What was going on with her boyfriend while he was working in Canada? When Carla next spoke to Roscoe, she subtly inquired about Dawn and the comment.

“She’s just an insecure girl,” Roscoe said. “She works on the set in the makeup department. I was just trying to build her confidence and now she’s writing me all the time.”

The comments continued, and Carla and I would both look at Roscoe and Dawn’s respective profiles and laugh about the way Dawn seemed to be pining for Roscoe’s attention. Soon, however, Dawn was posting pictures of her and Roscoe posing together. Carla became increasingly suspicious, but Roscoe, now irritated with Carla’s inquires, insisted that his relationship with Dawn nothing more than a friendship.

Carla and I continued to check Dawn’s profile on a regular basis; and our own friendly talks became more frequent. It was rare for Carla and I to go a couple of days without speaking to one another, either at work or over the phone. We started spending time together outside of work as well.

Then, one day in December, I checked Dawn’s profile and saw the following update. I read: “As long as I have my friends, a ring, and an American boy named Roscoe, I’ll be happy.”

Carla and I spent New Year’s Eve together that year (hello, 2006). On the car ride home from a friend’s party, I told Carla about Dawn’s update. I assumed Carla had read it. She hadn’t.

Continued in Part IV

To read Part I, please click here.

So, like I said, Roscoe was not amused with Carla and I’s innocent comments to one another. But why should I care? Well, let me tell you a little about Roscoe (and another future player in this epic tale of woe).

One night, me and some of my coworkers from the bookstore went to a coworker’s apartment for a night of, well, serious drinking. Carla, who was drinking Malibu Rum straight from the bottle, was in a partial embrace with another coworker of ours named Julian. Julian had been chugging Budweiser pounders and was muttering half-baked ideas about life and art. Now, despite the fact that Carla was dating Roscoe and that Julian was engaged, Julian decided to plant a kiss on Carla and slip her some tongue. Carla was shocked and appalled.

Within a few days time, Roscoe found out about the kissing incident and made a surprise visit to the bookstore (Carla was at home; Julian was working). Roscoe approached Julian in the kids’ area, grabbed him by the throat, pressed him against a flimsy prop tree, and smacked Julian around a bit about the face.

Now, I generally like to live my life with the least amount of face beatings as possible, so I stopped writing comments on Carla’s MySpace page. In the meantime, Roscoe got a job working on a film in Canada and was to be away for a few months. Carla quickly forgave Roscoe for beating up Julian, and everything was fine between them. That is until a Canadian girl named Dawn started leaving comments on Roscoe’s MySpace page.

Continued in Part III