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.