"Just tell me and I'll stop"

So, Ron's friend once made advances to me when we were alone in the car. 

Ron thought it was "cool" that the man thought I was "hot", and at a later point, said "I wouldn't mind if Heather had sex with you, as long as I got to watch."  How's that for a good Christian witness?  How's that for making me look like a whore?  Never ever ever in a million years.  

I'm not in the least attracted to him.  It's not a physical thing either. 

I am not a cheater.  

Anyway, he has referred to Ron as "A major alcoholic".  A couple months ago, Ron called him, whining he was tired of using paratransit. 

Now, the devil wants Ron drinking.  He usually has "fantastic" turn-around trips where he barely has time to pay for the alcohol before his ride home.  That wasn't good enough.  He wanted a driver. 

So, he pays this guy to drive him to the liquor store.  He calls the liquor store and they "hold" his stuff.  I don't know how he pays because I don't come along. 

Once, once, this guy tricked me into coming along, Ron said the other guy would go in and pay.  Then we got there and the guy told me to go.  Got a real attitude too.  I don't get in the vehicle if they are going, anymore.  Fool me once. 

This is a man who knows Ron has blackouts, is abusive, when he drinks.  If I don't want to help him drink I probably have a very good reason, and that's what I say to the drivers. 

"Why don't you help him buy alcohol?"
"I must have a very good reason." 

No one has ever asked for details.  About this time Ron shows up and has hysterics when he finds we are discussing his drinking habits.   He tries to do damage control; not understanding - I don't talk about it in person, but I do online. 

He talks about getting online.  I wonder what he would think if he read some of these posts on drinking. 

Anyway.  When the man agreed to help Ron, he said "Now, if he has a blackout, just let me know". 

What a game.  You know he's going to have a blackout, especially when you see he's lugging a GALLON of 80 proof at a time.  What the hell kind of game is that? 

What's next, he comes over and helps me pour it out?  Then I cry all over his shoulder, he puts his arm around me, and...

HELL no. 

He called today while Ron was shouting.  I answered the phone and said, calmly "This is a bad time".  Ron shouted something.  "Do you want to talk to him?"  No?  I related that, said goodbye, and hung up. 

Ugh.  I hate games almost as much as I hate alcohol. 

Surely, he has figured out Ron was having a blackout.