The reason Jim stayed with her and tolerated her was because when he was around her all he ever thought about was sex. He'd spend inordinate amounts of time thinking of ways and situations which would lead to their having sex.
She wasn't very bright but was a fairly good passer at appearing some what educated, a good student. And after they'd dated a few months, she'd begun the practice of aping back to Jim the ideas and words she had picked up from their conversations. This both pleased and aggravated Jim. With her strange ways she seemed to him as if she were from another planet.
She was of either German or Austrian descent and very much looked the part of either race. Thick blond hair halfway down her back, but ususally worn pulled up tight atop her head, a bun, and causing a vein to bulge at her temple; blue eyes, but just a little too close together; healthy, but pale complexion, small breasts, good teeth, a swimmers build, and petite but with a fierce combativeness about her personality coupled with a very alluring seductiveness. Sometimes Jim felt as if he was dating a facimilie of his own Mother, or perhaps worse still, a Vampire.
And as their relationship did progress another side of her had begun to appear to Jim. It was the little things that gave her away, the white lies, the suspicious behavior, the constant ringing of her cellphone, her name and telephone number on a bathroom wall at their favorite watering hole. And these ominous signs had the cumulative effect of making Jim nervous and uneasy and so he bought a pistol. 'Just in case' he told himself. "You can't be too careful these days."
One night while Jim slept she did lift off his star of david from around his neck and re-fashion it into a crucifix using a ball peen hammer and a bic lighter. And then Jim knew: 'she was a welder.' But Jim didn't care because this only made him want her more.
On some nights Jim waited for the inevitable sound of jack boots on the stairs and the hard rapping at the door. By now he had begun his custom of sleeping with one eye open with his revolver nearby, especially when he slept over at her apartment. Something out of an Edgar Allen Poe novel no doubt. Perhaps even The Raven.
On Jim's birthday she did prepare for him his favorite dish: Chicken Himmler. And afterwards, a cake followed, with something written in German upon it: Arbeit Macht Frei. She presented him with a wallet, which to Jim appeared to be made of some strange material he wasn't familiar with. Everything about her was strange.
They drank a bottle of champagne and Jim told her how beautiful her legs were in her short shorts. He reached over and touched one and she batted his hand away laughing out loud. Jim, suddenly sullen, secretly began plotting on how he was going to get her to remove the short shorts. They drank another bottle of champagne. And when she went to the restroom Jim did eventually mossy over to the couch and relax and reminded himself what a lucky man was he. Fer sure.
A switch had by now sounded off signaling to Jim that a certain portion of his brain had shut down. A state of tupor had set in, bordering on rigor mortis. A birthday party to remember he muttered to no one in particular and he thought to himself some more about any and everything and then just stared at the picture of Hitler hanging on the wall.
[note to author: could the above paragraph have been any more convoluted?]
And when there did come the sound of jack boots in the hallway and a hard rapping at the door, and to no one's surprise, Jim did pass out upon the living room floor.