“This town is filled with nothin’ but hippies, hicks, and homos,” Speck proclaimed as he spat a wad of tobacco out the window of his truck. “Which one are you?” he asked jokingly.
“I’m a hot chick!” Kristie responded cutely trying to match his alliteration.
As she thought about it, she guessed she could fit into any of the three categories. She had plenty of gay friends and had even tried her hand at lesbianism a time or two. She was definitely attracted to the counter culture element, and she had a little hayseed in her too.
“But don’t forget about the Italians!” Italians had settled in The Town early on, opening restaurants in each little river town along the tourist trail out to the coast. Now this uneasy coalition lived together in small villages set among the woods. Artists, writers, bohemians, loggers, druggies, and all living in proximity to one another.
On any given day in line at the Safeway, you could be standing next to a murderer, a crack addict, or a millionaire. Kristie loaded up her shopping cart with tortilla chips, refried beans, salsa, cheese, sour cream, green onions, two avocados, a twelve pack of Coors Lite, a twelve pack of Bud Lite, a bottle of Cuervo, and some margarita mix. She bought some limes and lemons too, and a box of brownie mix.
The girls were coming over later to hang out, talk shit, and get loaded. Girls’ Night In. They all liked these get togethers with no guys and lots of gossip. They would eat, drink, talk, smoke, laugh, sometimes cry… They talked until the wee hours when they would finally fall asleep or pass out helter-skelter.
Kristie unpacked the groceries and began straightening out the living room – fluffing the pillows, wiping down the coffee table, running the vacuum. There were two couches, a recliner and a big pile of overstuffed pillows on the carpet facing the fire place. The TV was off to one side. MTV was at its height. She supposed they might watch videos at some point and dance around.
She started the brownies baking, and gathered up a couple of packs of playing cards, the Ouiji Board, and the dice cups. They might play some poker, or Liar’s Dice, or Truth or Dare… but they already knew all of each other’s secrets and had heard the stories many times through the years as is often the case with good friends.
The girls started arriving around 8:00 PM having staved off their respective lovers. After demolishing the nachos with a couple of drinks under their belts, they passed around the first of many joints Kristie had the foresight to roll.
Cyn told the story about how she got pregnant and gave the baby up for adoption. It seemed like the best thing to do at the time, now that she was a full on dyke. Besides the baby was a boy. She would have kept it if it had been a girl. There was still some lingering regret there.
Jessica told about the time she was hitch hiking in the Middle East, getting picked up by two guys hauling a truck load of tomatoes to market. She declined their offer to sit in between them in the cab and opted for sitting in the back in order to eat some tomatoes. One of the guys crawled through the window of the cab to put his moves on her. She saved herself from getting raped by smashing tomatoes in her face and pretending to vomit.
Renee’ told the story about how her whole body was covered in hickeys because of a “Hickey War” she lost with her boyfriend.
Roller Girl told about getting raped by a black guy in San Francisco who let her go when she promised not to tell the cops.
Pat cried when she told how she was gay in high school and couldn’t go to prom because her girl friend had a date with a guy.
Kristie told the story about hitch hiking through the mid-west and getting picked up by a straight middle aged couple who wanted her to join them in a three way.
Everyone had a story to tell. They all took a shot of tequila in remembrance of their friend, Cindy, who was raped, murdered, and dismembered in the infamous murders of 1972.
As they were all sitting there talking, Kristie thought about how these girls’ parties were numbered. She was dreaming about being with Jack. Jack who brought her flowers three times a week. Jack who put her on top of his rock hard prick and fingered her clit until she came thrusting down upon him, grasping and grunting in ecstatic release. Jack who cradled her in his big warm arms and whispered promises to always take care of her. Jack, Jack, Jack. She only wanted to be with Jack all the time. Jack. She didn’t really want to be here now at this broads only party. Jack.
She looked around. Everyone was either passed out or asleep. She got up, brushed her teeth, washed her face and crotch, sprayed on some perfume, and quietly snuck out of the presence of the sleeping women across town to the arms of Jack.
She crept quietly into his house through the back door, up the stairs into his bedroom. She quickly undressed and crawled into bed next to him pressing her body up against his sleeping bear of a frame. He was deep in rem sleep. She kissed his back and shoulders and spooned up against him. “I just came by to sleep with you,” she whispered.
‘Hmmm…” he moaned a little and fell back into his dream state. She sighed contentedly, and fell asleep beside him. Jack.
(First published 1/12/12)
