Pat always had a parade of serial room mates that came and went at their own will. Sometimes they would even chip in to the upkeep of the apartment. Pat was a trust fund baby and didn’t really have to worry about day to day expenses, but she did expect people to pitch in, buy some food, pay something towards the utilities, or something. Still, she took in strays.
Ash lived in a large closet off of the living room. He was an old friend from high school who had just come out. He was obsessed with his new found freedom. He walked around the apartment naked all day, stroking his less than stellar manhood. “I’m gay! Somebody fuck me! I’m gay! Somebody fuck me!” he begged. It was more than pathetic.
Kristie needed to get a job and get out of there. She looked in town at a couple of places. Bartending for a cute, hot chick was de rigueur, so that’s what she sought. The nightclub scene in LA was off the hook. All the pretty people were out walking the streets, hanging out of hotel windows, passing joints and jugs of wine, dropping pills, and fucking everybody.
The punk scene was just beginning and the chicks were hot! Lots of gorgeous women and really cool girls’ bands that rocked it hard! Even on a weeknight places were packed. Kristie got a job as a cocktail waitress. The dress was casual. You could wear jeans and a tank top, but you had to wear an apron.
Kristie did alright there for a time, but she couldn’t resist the fantasy of watching all the lesbians cavort while fucking a guy with a big hard prick. She couldn’t help it – her mind was gay, but her vagina was straight. Hollywood became a short lived saga as she stuck her thumb out and headed back to the desert.
It was always back to the desert where she knew she could get a job or a place to flop. Sometimes she thought the end of her life began in the desert. At some point she decided to go north to the beach, and that made all the difference. That is where she met Jack and her life took an upturn that only true love could destine.
(First published 5/3/12)
