Girl In A Room

Hitch-hiking is for lizards. That's 'cuz they get squashed and dead so they don't have to get to where they're going no more. I never hitch-hike unless I absolutely have to. Damn it, today I had to. And I even own a car now.

But the car dealer won't deliver my car. I have to go pick it up. The first thing I did when I got back was I bought me a car. I'm a changed woman. I take care of myself so I had to get a car. Can't live in a trailer park without a trailer or a car. My new trailer's in, and now I got me a new car. Except I still hadn't seen Jesse yet and I've been back for three weeks now.

So today, I vowed I would go see Jesse, 'cuz they told me at the car dealer my car would be ready today. I waited and waited for them to deliver it like they said they would. But after the whole morning, they're a no show. Dean let me use his phone and then they told me they never promised to deliver the car to me. I have to go pick it up. They don't deliver used cars - that's what I bought. And besides, they haven't got the damn car ready for today so I shouldn't bother coming to pick it up.

I was mad. But I am a new woman now and I stick to my plans. I planned to see Jesse today so that's what I did instead. Thing is, no one could give me a lift to see Jesse so I had to hitch-hike into town and take the bus to the jail.

This guy picked me up just outside the park. It's weird. I know this was the kind of guy I usually try to cozy up to. He's a good looker, rugged and confident, wearing cowboy gear and smoking. He was hot. But the new me, she just wasn't interested. Not that I don't like sex no more, but I don't want to be a slut no more, and I gotta take care of myself.

So there we were in the car and we were quiet most of the time. What the hell do people talk about when they're not trying to get into sex with each other? I wonder if I was turned off because he told me he had eight kids with three different women. Gee, now that I think about it, that actually turns me on. But nah, in the car at the time, I was just kinda grossed out and thought, Ew, I don't wanna get involved in that whole mess. I don't want to have his baby, or anyone's.

Here's a lesson for guys trying to get a girl in the sack. Never give her the idea she could have your baby right away. You just met for chrissake.

I finally made it to the jail. Don't get me wrong. Jesse is my son, isn't he? I'm not blind, am I? And I am certainly not crazy.

So I asked for Jesse at the gate and they let me in. I went to Jesse's cell and there was this girl there, with stringy bleached blond hair, looking about 14, doing her nails. A short little thing, she ain't no Jesse. I went, "Jesse?"

She went, "Yes?"

"Jesse?"

"What?"

"You're not Jesse. What the hell happened to my Jesse?"

"I am so Jessie. Who the fuck are you?"

"You're not Jesse. Jesse is a guy."

"I am Jessie. You can see I'm no fucking guy."

"Where's the guy who used to be here?"

"How the hell should I know, bitch?"

"Don't use that language with me, missy."

"You come barging in here and tell me I'm a guy and I can't call you bitch, bitch?"

"Yeah, I'm telling you that."

Then the guard came up 'cause we were too loud.

"What happened to Jesse Batten? My son? This little bitch here is not my son."

"I'm Jessie and darn right I am not your fucking son, you fucking moron."

Oh she's a fiesty one, this little tart, swears like a sailor. I wanted to pull her hair out. But I stopped myself. I am above that now. This is the new me. So I said,

"Look, you little twerp, I'm not talking to you. Thank god we're not related, because if I was your mother, I'd smack you good."

"C'mon you cunt, let's duke it out, right? C'mon." She jumped up and held up her fists, made like she was going into the boxing rink with me.

The guard separated us. But he didn't have to. I wasn't going to fight a little kid. I got pride you know. But man, she's a lively one, I'll give her that.

The guard took me to the office to sort things out. Well, I just can't believe what happens when you go away for a few months. Turns out Jesse was sentenced and let go. He had to spend six months in jail for mischief, but he'd already served that time waiting for his trial so when the sentence was made, he was already done. They let him go last month. But where'd he go? The guard and the superintendent hadn't a clue. They said he was 17, no longer a minor, so they let him go. They just thought he went home.

And Ogden? Same thing. He's gone too.

Well fuck me. Now my son is missing. I kicked up a fuss. They lost my son. He may not be a minor, but he's still not 18 so he's not an adult either. Who'd they hand him over to? They said there were people waiting for him and he knew them. Who the hell does he know? Must've been Og.

Then the superintendent pulled me aside and said the damnest thing. He said, "You know that girl in the cell? Her name is Jessica. She's been on the street since she was 14. 16 now. Got picked up for prostitution last month. She's still here because no one came for her. She has nowhere to go. Look at her. She can pass for 12. She sounds tough, but she's just a scared little kid, sweet when she's not fighting. The amazing thing is, we don't know how she survived two years on the street. She doesn't have a pimp. She's too old for child services, but too young to be on her own. We have to release her today. They're doing that right now, discharging her. Can't give her free room and board forever. Maybe you want to get to know her a bit, help her when she gets out. You know, do the good Samaritan thing."

Too much. That's just too much. No fucking way. I told him so. I came for my son. They gone and lost him. I'm not walking away with some replacement kid. Not even the right sex or right age or anything. And such a foul-mouthed little bitch at that.

So I went to the washroom and got myself together and left. I hadn't really figured out how to get back to the park but I knew I had to take the bus back into the city first. So I was walking and I pass all the prison fences and at the end, there was bench where you wait for the bus. There was a young girl there, with her back to me. But I could tell she was crying, like she's lost her mom or something. I got closer and that girl turned out to be that Jessie punk. She had mascara running down her face. She looked scary and scared.

She turned and saw me and quickly muzzled her tears trying to look tough. You can't help feeling sorry for her, even if you are disgusted at the same time. I got next to her and looked down at her. She's like a stray kitten needing a home.

"Scram bitch, I got here first," said Jessie.

"Shut up." I sat down at the other end of the bench. "Where're your folks? Why aren't they here to get you?"

"None of your business."

"Where you headed?"

"None of your business."

I looked her straight in the eye. "They told me in the prison you're alone. Where's your family?"

I could see tears were welling up in her eyes. She didn't answer.

I sighed with frustration. Someone give the girl a bath. So I said, "Look, you're too young to be living on the street. Someone should be looking after you and let you be a regular teenager. Where's your home? I'll take you back."

"Don't have one," she whispered. Well, she really is just a scared little thing. It bothered me that she's alone. She may be bitchy, but she's young, too young to be on her own.

The sky started to go dark and it started spitting. Great, now it's going to rain and I don't have an umbrella. The stupid bus was nowhere in sight.

"But you're waiting for a bus to go somewhere. Where you going to sleep tonight?" I asked.

"Don't know." She was just staring into space in front of her. "Don't want to talk about it."

So we just sat there quiet, getting cold and getting spat at by the rain. Seriously, I considered asking her to come home with me, I just felt so sorry for her. If she asked to come home with me, I probably would've said yes even though I don't want to look after her. Finally, the bus showed up just as the sky cracked open with thunder and poured out buckets on us.

Return of the Prodigal Daughter

I know. I've been away like forever. At least a few months. I got back yesterday. Billy just dumped me off his pickup at the park and here I am. I guess I'm glad to be home. But I'm really pissed off at everyone, even Sam and Leslie. Did you know that no one really noticed that I was gone, for months?

Sam and Leslie did notice, but they never bothered to look for me. They thought I was having an affair with Jon because they heard that Jon was having an affair. So they left it at that. There was an affair. But it wasn't me and Jon. Jon was having an affair with some other guy. I only found out about it today when Jon's mom told me. She noticed I hadn't been around, but Sam told her I was alright. Bitch.

Dean hadn't been paid for my site for months and he didn't think to find out what happened to me? He said he was keeping my spot because it wasn't like people were clammering to get into the park and my new trailer got delivered and was just sitting there in my space so he figured I'd show up sooner or later. Good thing he's not in the personal security business, he'd make a lousy bodyguard. But now that I'm back, I still owe him back rent. Fucking shit.

Turns out the only one who got kinda concerned, more like nosy, was Shannon. She even went into town once to see if she could bump into me. But didn't try too hard obviously. Not that I was in town. But still, what shit does one have to go through to get noticed?

But I'm not gonna let anything of this shit bother me. I'm above this petty mess now because I'm a new woman. How new? Well, let me tell you. Oh the shit I've been through.

Except I can't go into that now. I gotta go see Jesse. I gotta tell him Mitch really is dead now. Yeah, I seen him and talked to him. I might even have been the one who killed him. Is Jesse still even in jail? How come no one in the park knows?

17 Monkeys and a Postcard

One morning, a man drove into the park with a big van and got a site for the night. In the afternoon, he released 17 monkeys on the grounds. The monkeys ran around the park and ran onto the different sites to explore the occupants and their properties.

These were brown monkeys with white faces and white bums. Kind of like Curious George. Some of the kids were thrilled, some cried. Some people tried to whack the monkeys off their site with a broom or whatever they had. Most people just scratched their heads at the monkeys wondering what’s going.

Nash, one of the park residents, tried to gave beer to a monkey beer and tried to show him how to smoke cigarettes. The monkey ate the cigarette instead. The monkey man came running and cursing, saying Nash was corrupting his prize monkey.

Dean was beside himself. He said this is a trailer park for people, not for wild monkeys. He runs a campground, not a zoo. He was making such a ruckus about the monkeys and wanting to get rid of them that people said to him, “C’mon, calm down, Dean. They’re cute. Let’em stay.”

The monkeys’ owner, Abe Aberdeen, said he was an animal trainer. He was training these monkeys for the circus. He said the monkeys were not wild animals, they were highly trained performers. And to show how well trained the monkeys were, he blew a whistle in two short bursts. It was amazing. All the monkeys stopped what they were doing. It looked like monkeys came out of nowhere and ran to Abe’s site. Each monkey paired up with a partner and lined up two by two, in two straight lines, except for the monkey in front. He stood by himself. They all looked at Abe and waited for their next instruction.

Abe made a wide circle with his arm and the monkeys started walking around in a circle holding hands. When Abe clapped his hands, all the monkeys stopped, stood in two lines and faced Abe.

Then Abe said, “Front roll,” gesturing his hand in small forward circles low to the ground. The first two pairs of monkeys did front rolls across the grass.

Abe raised one arm over his head, said, “Twirl,” and made spinning circles with his other hand. The next two pairs of monkeys raised an arm each and spun slowly across the grass like ballerinas.

Then Abe took out a fiddle, held it up to his chin and played a few notes. He said, “Square dance.” The next four pairs of monkeys stood in a square facing each other. The lone monkey stood in the middle of the square. Abe played a dance tune and to everyone’s amazement, the monkey in the middle flapped its arms and stomped its feet, doing its own dance. The other monkeys did square dance steps. Sure, they bumped into each other but they sure did walk around in opposite directions, meeting up with new partners, almost to the fiddle’s beat.

Abe said to everyone, “We’re still working on that.” Turning to the monkeys, he said, “Bow to the nice people,” and he showed them how by bowing to them. All the monkeys mimicked him and made several bows to the people standing around.

The whole time, everyone was clapping, squealing, hooting and hollering. We were just so amazed to see monkeys could do these tricks.

Well there was nothing Dean could do but let the monkeys stay. He told Abe, “How are you going to follow each one to stoop and scoop?”

Abe said, “Sir, my monkeys do not defecate in public. They require privacy to do their business. They go inside the van.”

“You have to leave tomorrow or I could lose my operating licence. And keep them inside your van for the night.”

“You allow pets in here, sir,” said Abe, “these are highly trained pets, better behaved than some of your children here, I bet.” He looked around at everyone, and they clapped and nodded their heads.

It was such great fun. After that, people sort of went their own ways. Abe and his monkeys stayed more or less on his site. Some monkeys went off visiting.

Abe was obviously smiling with pride. He looked around and saw me still looking at him and the monkeys from my site. So he gave something to one of his monkeys and whispered something to him.

The monkey came bouncing up to me. He was holding something in his hand alright. It was a card. He shoved it at me. So I took it and put it down on the table and said, “Thanks.”

The monkey picked up the card again and put it back in my hand. He jumped up and down and went, “Eeek, eeek, eeek.” I guess he wanted me to look at the card.

The card had a picture of a camel crossing a busy city street as if it was the dessert, completely unaware it was stopping traffic. I flipped the card over. It was a postcard. And it was addressed to me at the park. It said,

Dear Mindy,

I hope you and Jesse are doing okay. I’m okay. I did what I could for you and Jesse. I guess this is it for us. I hope you have a good life. Good bye.

Love,

Mitch

The first thought that came into my head was, Thank god I don’t have to return the money. I’d already put in an order for a new trailer that’s got room for a few kegs of beer inside.

I Have No Son

I was so curious about seeing Ogden and Ray on the road last night that I had to go see Jesse in jail. I mean, what gives? Why's Og out and not Jesse?

To get a ride, I had to be real nice to Amy, one of stupid Shannon's friends. I went, "Hey bitch, whatcha doing today?"

"Nuthin' much."

"Wanna take me to Jesse's?"

"Guess so, I ain't got nuthin' better to do."

Amy isn't a bad sort. She's usually real accommodating and all. I just don't know why she hangs out with Shannon. The trouble with that lot is, they're real ugly and dumb and Shannon is the only one close to pretty and she knows it. So she hangs out with ugly people to make herself look better. I know how she works. And the bunch of them are too dumb to know she's using them to make herself look good.

So buck-tooth Amy drove her pop's car and got us to the jail. The guard at the gate told us we had to wait for Jesse to come back. For goodness sake, come back from where? He said he didn't know. That pissed me off 'cuz I had to be seen in public with buck-tooth Amy to get here and now I like owe her one, and Jesse's not here, and the dumb guard don't even know where he is or when he would be back. What, they just let prisoners wander around on their own and not tell anyone where they're going? At least he let us go wait in the waiting room inside the building instead of making us wait at the gate.

I got some coffee and just sat there waiting and smoking. But Amy, I can't believe it. She was flirting with this old geezer mopping up in the hall. I could hear her giggling and him snickering. Don't they know this is a jail and not a place for flirting?

A long time later, Jesse still hadn't come back, so I went down the hall to the entrance to check with the guard again. But holy shit. I'm walking down the hall and I see Amy and the janitor. He looked kinda familiar. I went up and said hi. He looked me up and down, scrutinizning like. He's an old lecher, I can tell you that. She's gotta be kidding if she's really considering him. He must be 70 or something close to it. Sure, he could've been good looking once, a long long time ago, like once upon a time. But he's all wrinkled, has that cracked leather face, with a big gut, and still got a pack of cigarettes tucked up his T-shirt sleeve.

"I'm going to check with the guard again," I said to Amy.

"Oh, okay," she said, "Hey, this here's Scottie."

Scottie winked at me, clicked his tongue, and pointed his thumb and index finger at me like a gun. God, that's familiar. I know this old geezer from somewhere. Even his name is familiar. But he don't look like he recognized me though.

"Scottie, do I know you from somewhere?" I asked.

"Hey, cut it out and find your own guy," said Amy.

"No, I'm serious. You look kinda of familiar Scottie, but I don't know where I met you before."

"I know lots of girls," said Scottie, "so if we've met before, I hope we had a good time." He winked at me again.

"See, he don't remember you," said Amy.

"Okay, whatever." I continued to the gate.

The stupid guard said yeah, Jessie's been back half an hour. Why didn't he come tell me? He said Jesse said he'd come look for me. Jesus. I'm just wasting all this friggin' time. So I went to look for Jesse and found him in his cell, just lying on his bed, reading. Ogden's bed was empty.

"Ferchrisake Jesse, what, you forgot I was waiting for ya?"

"Oh hi, mom. Good to see you too."

"What happened to Ogden? Thought I saw him in a car last night."

"He's not back yet."

"Where'd he go?"

"He went with his dad somewhere."

"Did his dad put up bail?"

"No."

"How'd he get out?"

"He just did."

"He just did how? He scaled the walls or what?"

"He left for the day."

"Can you stop beating about the bush and just tell me how he left without bail?" Just then, one of the inspecting guards walked by. I've always like this one. He's handsome and rugged looking. I stood up taller and thrust my chest out. Good thing I was wearing my mini top. Cleavage and an exposed midriff gets attention in a jail.

"Jesus, mom, can't you even stop whoring long enough to talk to me?" hollered Jesse.

What's the matter with him? I wasn't being a whore. What kind of a way is that to talk to your mom? "Jesse, don't talk to me like that," I said. "How dare you? I come to visit you and try to get you out and all and you call me a whore. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"How do you think it makes me feel when you're always coming on to every guy you see, even in front of me?" he said.

I have no idea what he's talking about. I always separate sex from my son. I mean, it's indecent mixing son and sex. He just has no idea how hard I try to keep him upright. "Jesse, I won't have you talking to me like that. I'm trying to help you get out of jail, I see your friend got out, you tell me without bail. How the hell did he manage that? He pull someone's string? He sucked someone's cock? Maybe I can do the same thing to get you out. I'm just trying to help you."

"Christ, will you listen to yourself? Don't talk to me any more."

What, what?! I'm listening to myself. What's he objecting to? There's no talking to moody teenagers. And mine's in jail. That makes him worse. "You know Jesse, sometimes I think you would rather stay in jail than come home."

"Home? Home? Where is home, mom? What does home look like, mom? Your fucking boyfriend burned down what home we had. Where do you think I would live if I got out of jail? Sleep in a fucking tent with you? Should I pretend to be asleep in the tent when you bring home meat to fuck?

"You want to know the truth? Ogden left with his dad on an overnight pass. You can get an overnight pass. I never told you because I don't want to go home with you.

And you know what else? I do like it here better. I sleep in a real bed. They give me real food. I work. I like the work I do. They let me volunteer at the school. I help out in the classroom and I get to teach the little kids how to read. They like me, the teachers and kids. They think I'm normal. The teachers think I'm smart.

"And here's what else. Even if you could put up bail to get me out, I don't want to leave. So don't bother raising money. I like it here. So don't fucking try to get me out!"

Well, that was unexpected. What a bastard son I raised. What kind of a son is he that he'd rather live in jail than with his mom? Screw him then. I have no son. I was so mad, I marched right out of that jail and slammed his cell door.

I marched past Amy who was still flirting with Scottie the geezer janitor. "Amy, we have to go, now!" I shouted.

"Whoa, whoa there horsey," said Scottie.

Whoa there horsey? Yup, I recognize him now. I know who Scottie is. Years ago, when I was 16, Scottie was my mom's boyfriend. When mom wasn't home one day, Scottie came over and we fucked. I didn't think mom minded. She was always bringing different boyfriends home and Scottie was sleeping with just about girl in town. So why not me? But boy, did mom get mad. The third time Scottie and I got together, mom caught us. She raised hell and threw me out of the house. I've been on my own ever since. Never seen mom since either. But I heard that she kept fucking Scottie a few more months after she threw me out.

Today, I would have kicked my son out of my house if I had one and I met the man who got me kicked out of home. Christ, I'm not having a good day.

The Outing

Leslie helped me get ready for my night out with Jon. She did my hair so it looked stylishly wild, not poky messy. And she loaned me a top. She said I don’t always dress right for my age. But of course I do. No matter what I wear, I’m always my age. Still, she made me wear her bland beige top with flounce at the wrist. But man, the same top looked completely different on us. On me, it showed lots of cleavage! I liked it. She tried to make me wear a sweater over it. As if.

I was sitting with Sam and Fred when Jon came to pick us up. Only, he didn’t come alone. He came with Herb!

“I ran into Herb at the gate. He was coming in to see you,” Jon said to Fred.

“Hi Herb, good to see you,” said Fred.

“But we’re all going out soon, so your visit will be short, Herb,” said Jon. “Unless you join us. Why don’t you come with us? We’re going for dinner, then dancing. Two lovely ladies here for your dancing pleasure.”

Sam’s face went stiff.

“Yes, that’s a great idea. Join us, Herb,” said Fred. “We’re all old friends here.”

“Well, gee, I...” Herb looked at Sam.

Sam breathed in long and said, “I am not telling anyone what to do, as long as we have fun tonight is all that matters to me.”

“There you are. We’re set then. You ride with us, Herb,” said Fred, putting an arm around Herb.

Jon put a helmet on me and opened the door of the sidecar for me. God, he’s a gentleman too. I never known this side about him. He makes me feel girlish.

We drove to the Hog’s Head in Fern Hill. As we were driving on the road, I swear I saw Ogden and his dad, Ray, driving the other way. I even waved at them, but they didn’t see me. What’s the deal here? How come Ogden’s out? Jesse didn’t say nothing about that when I saw him last time.

Jon put Bette Midler in his CD player. He said, “Don’t you just love her?”

Bette Midler’s okay. I personally like something more upbeat, like Pink Floyd or even the newer groups, like Jet. Then he said,

“I like what you’re wearing. You have such a good sense of style - voluptuous and vulnerable, simple yet glamorous. You should visit me some time and I’ll do your colours. I could even fix your hair.” Wow, he sure understands women.

“Jon, what kind of work do you do?” I couldn’t help asking.

“I’m a colourist. My partner and I run the beauty salon in Tattle Creek. You don’t come to us, do you?”

“No, I usually just go to the one in Wittle Lake. It’s closer.”

“But not better, darling. Ha ha ha.” Jon has a generous, gutteral laugh.

We got to the restaurant and ordered fancy steaks and potatoes. We had a pretty good time at dinner chitchatting 'bout this and that, not too awkward except for Sam and Herb. After, the band was good too. We all did line dancing with a bunch of people. For a guy with such good hair, I was surprised Jon wasn’t a better dancer. He’s not bad. He just always seems half a step behind and running to catch up. He kept going, “Oh, oh, gosh,” and he was laughing and giggling the whole time, saying, “This is so fun, so fun. I feel like Cinderella.”

It was fun. Cinderella? I like dancing. Jon was having such a good time that it was infectious. Once I brushed my breasts against him, and he went, “Oh, oh, oh, boobs in my face, you naughty, naughty girl.” He was so funny, I laughed my ass off. But I didn’t bump my breasts into him again.

Somehow, he reminds of how Bette Midler would dance if Bette Midler were a man.

Now Sam and Herb. I got nervous watching them trying hard to not look at each other and sometimes acting like they hadn’t heard what the other said. I mean, that’s not being natural at all. I’m not sure Fred noticed anything. He seemed so happy dancing with his wife and brother.

At one point, I had to go to the washroom, so Jon said, “I’ll come with you.” We got to the washrooms and he leaned over and said, “Just between us girls, something’s up with Sam and Herb.” Then he went into the men’s and I went into the women’s. He is observant.

When I came out, Jon was watching two women fighting in the hall. They were going,

“You took it without asking, bitch.”

“You weren’t wearing it. You wear my things all the time.”

“I don’t wear your things to hustle your boyfriend.”

“I didn’t know he was your boyfriend. Your name wasn’t on him.”

“When you knew, you didn’t stop.”

“I can’t help it if he likes the way I look.”

“In my top.”

Jon put his arm around me and giggled, “Someone should bitch-slap those two to shut them up.”

You know, Jon’s real nice guy and all but I don’t think I’ll get lucky with him. I suppose having another girlfriend is always good. Funny, me not noticing that before. He does look real good sitting on his bike though.

Freewheeling

I was still strolling along when I came to Hairy Gary’s site. His wife calls him that. Because of the hair all over his back. But even if I didn’t know that, Gary is still creepy. He limps with this slouch and is crossed eyed, so when he’s in a group, you’re never sure who he’s looking at. And he has this thin, whiny, nasally voice that he draws out all the words with an “n” sound, like he's always got a cold or something. I think he drools too, his mouth is always slobbering. You’d think a guy with so many defects wouldn’t be a bother to women. But no. Every time he sees me, he comes on to me. No kidding. He comes on to every woman he sees.

Soon as he saw me, he jumped up from his chair and limped over.

“Minnndy, Minnndy, Minnndy,” he snivelled.

“And what’s up with you, Gary?” I said.

“Ooh, wouldn’t you like to feel it, hehn hehn?” he said.

I shook my head. “You’re full of corn,” I said.

“You’re full of breasts in that tight T-shirt, hehehehe,” he said.

“How’s Frances?”

“Ah ha. You knew then? That’s why you’re here, begging for me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Frances is away. Left yesterday to visit her sister. She’ll be away for two weeks. Haheheeha, hahaha heeheeheeha.” He snickered like a donkey. “Mindy, you look fetching.”

“As fetching as Delores’ grandmother a few nights ago when you got drunk?”

“Well I’m not drunk now. But really, look at your plump breasts. I thought you’d be a grieving widow by now.”

“Huh? What’s my breasts got to do with grieving?” But I was glad I wore my good bra.

“I don’t know, but if you let me check them, I’ll try to find out. Hehuheehuhehe.”

I rolled my eyes. He's a moron and he can be so ridiculous, but so damn funny too.

“Come, have a drink with me,” he said. “Come sit for a while. You got nothing else to do.”

Shit, he’s right. I got nothing better to do. He’s got beer. And I was feeling generous on account of Jon asking me out for tomorrow night.

“Alright.”

So we sat down and started drinking. Gary sat too close to me and kept touching me, slobbering and drooling all over the place. After a while, he said,

“Want to see my nine inch nail? I’m really good at hammering it in. Ha, hahahunhunhe.”

Now, you have to understand - a few beers, someone stroking you, you stop being so picky.

“Gary, is that all you ever think about - how to get laid?” I said.

“What? What do you think about?” he said. He got me there. “Come into the trailer and I’ll show you my tool. Hehehuhhuh.”

Although I was getting in the mood, I wasn’t all that keen on Gary. He was kind of repulsive. But then he said,

“Shannon jumped at the chance.”

“Get out, you did Shannon?” I almost screamed.

“Uh huh. She liked it too. She’s been back a few times.”

“Where do you do it? Frances is always here.”

“Behind the trailer. I keep my tool box there. For real.”

I could see that. All the trees, bush and thicket back there make a good cover.

“One time,” continued Gary, “I told Frances I’d show Shannon my tool box so she can borrow a hammer, hahaheehe. We went back there and did it standing up. The whole time we were doing it, we were watching Frances walking around in her housecoat, smoking her cigarettes, and chopping wood. She had no clue. Heheheehe.”

I could see that too. Frances is always flapping about in her housecoat and slippers. She must be at least 10 years older than Gary. Sometimes I think they’re mother and son.

Gary kept stroking the side of my breast with his stubby chew down fingers. One thing led to another, and next thing you know, we were in his trailer and I’m measuring nine inches with a tape. What was I supposed to do? I’m a woman. There’s a huge cock in front of me. Gary kept shoving it at me saying, Take it, take it.

So I took it.

For a creepy guy, I guess he was an okay fuck. Except he kept trying to kiss me on the mouth. I had to push his head away and say no. I don’t kiss guys I fuck. I only kiss guys I am in love with. And his big cock? It wasn’t as big a turn on as I thought. It looked kind of deformed, like Gary. Okay, it wasn’t such a great fuck on account of him being so creepy. Stupid fucking Shannon.