“Tom, you selfish prick, introduce me to this beautiful lady beside you”
Tom lifted his beer heavy head and tried to focus towards the wobbly space on his left. Two women with the same face chimed hello. He sat up straight and leered politely.
“Hey, I’m Tom”, he introduced. Tom and the new woman had never met, like two hummingbirds who had also never met. Her lipstick was like ketchup freshly spilled on a white table cloth. Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.
“Hey. You can call me Bris”, she slurred, her speech slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through thick peanut butter. Her breath hit his face like a fresh breeze from a landfill.
Bris glanced past Tom and waited with expectation.
“Hi Bris. I’m Kevin.”
“You’re cute, Kevin. Wanna be my date tonight?”
“Good answer, Bris.” Kevin leaned in near Tom’s right ear and whispered loudly “I’m not saying she’s a whore…but I am liking her whooor-ish ways.”
Bris leaned over Tom’s shoulder to get a close look at her new fella. Kevin’s face looked like it had caught fire and someone put it out with a track shoe. He seemed pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like “Second Tall Man”.
Tom felt his new love slipping away, and was getting pissed at being passed over. He became madder than a legless Ethiopian watching a donut roll down a hill. More frustrated than a deaf mute, playing bingo, getting bingo, and then trying to hollar out bingo. More stressed out than an anorexic in a house of mirrors. More pissed off than a skinhead watching the Jeffersons. Madder than a queer with tonsillitis on Valentine’s Day.
“So, Bris, what turns you on?” Kevin said, his voice as smooth as a large smudge of banana puree on a velvet armchair.
“Oh! You get right to point!” Bris answered, thinking that Kevin might turn out to be as fun as a bag of dicks. She eyed him closer. Kevin was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
She started giggling like a Japanese school girl in a Hello Kitty store, as her nipples became as hard as a blind lesbian’s at an open-air fish market.
Tom thought Bris’s laugh sounded like a chorus of retarded children. In a bar full of easy women Tom felt like the Venus de Milo of the hug me generation. He got up and left, in a quiet huff. Tom was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.
Kevin was happy as a retard in a shiny object factory. “I wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers…even if crackers was the dog”, he thought. “She looks as hot as a fresh-fucked fox in a forest fire. I’d like to bang her like a screen door in a hurricane.” What should he say next? His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
“I like you. You are growing on me like you’re a colony of E. Coli and I’m room-temperature prime English beef.” Seeing his comment go over over like a like a fart in church, he tried again with “I have a penis like a baby’s arm holding an apple.” That went over like a turd in a punch bowl.
“Your getting ahead of yourself, Kevin. What kind of girl you think I am?” Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever. “You think I’m gonna jump into bed with a man whose face is uglier than a woman’s basketball game?”
“You’re right, Bris. I had the wrong idea about you. At first I thought that screwing you would probably be like screwing a glass of water. Like throwing a hot dog down a hallway. Like fucking mashed potatoes. But now I see that you are just a tease. You’re about as loose as airport security. ”
“Shut the fuck up. You’re going to get your ass kicked like a soccer ball in a Brazilian crack-house.”
Kevin’s attention shifted as a hunky thug of male meat ambled up beside Bris, patted her on the shoulder, and ordered a beer. Bris could see the apprehension in Kevin’s eyes at her friends approach. Not the same apprehension a retard has when presented a Rubik’s cube but more like the kind Bob Barker has when an excited fat woman wins a car and wants to hug him.
“Kevin, meet Billy Boy”, Bris announced with the smile of a plump high school girl chewing on miniature cheerleaders.
Rain seemed to fall on Kevin’s mood. It grew heavier and more and insistent. As Kevin spoke his words were drowned out by thunder, and he realized that his mood was mirrored in a sudden heavy storm. The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.
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