Greetings, beloved readers.
In our last installment, Angel thought about her lovelife as she drove to Jeff's. That was about it. OH, right, yes, she also put gas in her car.
Today: Chris overcooks his bagel. Enjoy!
Chapter 67: Continental Breakfast
Chris rubbed his eyes and waited for the hotel to relinquish his bagel. [I assume that I meant “hotel toaster” or something like that. Either that or this hotel has some weird ideas about key deposits.] He hadn’t slept particularly well after discovering the identity of Barry’s bedmate. Justina had kept him awake for a bit by asking him questions and trying to figure out the best plan of action, but after a while, she had fallen into a sound sleep. He, on the other hand, lay awake for what seemed like hours, turning the problem over and over in his head.
It wasn’t his business, really. Dustin wasn’t his friend—far from it—and it wasn’t his place to drop this kind of a bomb on him. Plus, maybe Dustin knew about it already. Maybe his marriage had already crumbled and Chris was just the last to know.
“Looks like your bagel’s almost on fire, there, Chris,” a voice behind him said. It was Dustin, of course. [of course! Looks like I recognized contrivance even as I wrote this! Didn’t stop me from writing it, though]
“Uhh … thanks. Yeah. I, uh, prefer them well-done,” he said, scooting the blackened bread onto a plate.
“Hey, to each his own, huh?” Dustin laughed.
“Yeah.” Chris couldn’t make eye contact with him.
“Well, enjoy.”
“Yep.”
“Chris?”
“Yeah?” He finally looked at Dustin, managing what he hoped was a friendly smile.
“I think she’s okay.”
“Uh … what?” What did that mean? Maybe Dustin knew about Barry and Alex and was fine with it. Maybe it was like a kink or something?
“Angel. You asked me to look after her. I think she’s okay.”
“Oh. Oh. Right. Angel … Yeah. Thanks, Dustin. I appreciate it. I haven’t really spoken to her since … I … uh … you using the toaster?”
“Thanks.”
“Is she … with Jeff?” Chris meant to drop it and walk away, but couldn’t.
“I don’t know, really. But she seems fine.”
“Right, yeah. None of my business anyway I guess.”
“I understand wanting to know, man.”
“Yeah.” Chris spread cream cheese on his blackened bagel.
Dustin’s phone rang. “Scuse me. Hey, sweetie. How’s your sister doing? Aww, I’m sorry to hear that. Tonight too? Well, whatever she needs. I hope I get to see you one of these nights, though, darlin’. Okay. I’ll call you later. Love you.”
Chris swallowed hard. “Catch you later, man,” he said, wrapping his bagel in a napkin. He wasn’t particularly hungry anymore. [was he really going to eat that burnt bagel in the first place?]
NOTES:
1) I think we should commend Chris for the fact that his immediate reaction to Dustin’s “she’s okay” was NOT Angel. Somehow, a character managed to think about someone other than her. Amazing. This is, however, counteracted by the fact that his anxiety about Dustin’s wife cheating on him was immediately dissolved by the mention of Her Blondness.
2) Man, I remember those toasters in the college cafeteria ... your bread either never got toasted or it got stuck behind someone else's bagel and caught on fire. Good times. There are lots of things I miss about college, but the cafeteria is not one of them.
COMING UP NEXT:
Angel shows up at the Armsocks Abode. Should someone cue the "bow chicka wow wow" music, or will Rick Steiner get there before she compromises her "morals"? Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 68 - Angel Arrives
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Chapter 66: Driving South
HOLY GUACAMOLE, Y'ALL!!
Look, I didn't forget. I just got massively sidetracked. I've been thinking about updating this for months. Months!!! And now, the time has come.
Ok, so where were we? Dang, it's been a while. Let's see ...
Justina and Chris are having relations even though Chris is clearly not over Angel, for some unfathomable reason. Alex is cheating on Dustin with Barry, who continues to be awesome. Marie/Violet/Nightshade is trying to lure Scott back into her Evil Web for some reason that probably has to do with Angel, and Angel is embarking upon a seriously gross "relationship" with Jeff "Armsocks" Hardy. Bobby, Felicia, and Mysterious Brother Danny have pretty much fallen off the face of the earth. Or maybe they're hanging out with Mr. P. and Brutus.
Well, now that we're all up to speed, let's get on with this mess.
Chapter 66: Driving South
Angel’s mind was unusually clear as the miles accumulated on her odometer. The farther south she drove, the less stressed she felt [that’s probably because there’s a lot less traffic down here]. She was escaping—albeit temporarily—to an unfamiliar place with a relatively unfamiliar person. [note to Angel: this also sounds like a set-up for a horror movie. Just saying]
“Well,” she reasoned to herself, “it’s not entirely unfamiliar … I mean, I’ve been there plenty of times for shows, but to stay somewhere other than a hotel … and with Jeff … that is of course, the unfamiliar thrill.” [good gravy, she even THINKS with ellipses.]
And, truth be told, she was way less apprehensive than she had any right to be. But Jeff didn’t intimidate her, and oddly enough, neither did the prospect of losing her virginity to him—what made Angel feel sick with anger, pain, and confusion was Chris. Driving away from Chris, therefore, seemed like the best idea in the world. She knew it was only temporary, but that fact did not deter her in the slightest.
She remembered when Marty had first suggested sex to her. [Was it before or after he had the flu for seven months?]. They had been dating for a while and, looking back on it, Angel thought that the notion of them having sex was probably way less monumental to Marty than it had been to her. She had been young—quite a few years younger than him—and just embarking upon a new career. Marty was sweet and warm [that was probably the fever], and always seemed perfectly content to wait until Angel was ready.
Until, of course, he cheated on her with Marie.
“Didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself,” she muttered to herself.
But that was the pattern, wasn’t it? Find a wonderful guy, be magically happy, keep him physically distant, get cheated on, find out from someone else.
But that would change with Jeff. The pattern would break. Jeff would get the reverse—her body, but not her heart.
She pulled into the gas station and filled the tank. [a pivotal plot point, no doubt] Before resuming her trip, she called Jeff.
“Hey there. Just letting you know I’m about forty minutes away, according to these directions.”
“That sounds great, Angel. I’m psyched. Hey, do you like ranch dressing?” [un-oh, this sounds kinky]
“Who doesn’t?”
“People with no taste, I guess. I’ll see you soon.”
Angel smiled, closed the phone [wooo flip-phones! I’ve still got one!], and started the engine.
NOTES:
1) I don't remember when I wrote this one, but it was obviously after the invention of non-Zack-Morris-sized cell phones. This fact is embarrassing.
COMING UP NEXT:
We get back into the Dustin/Alex/Barry plot as Chris tries to figure out what to do with his burdensome knowledge. There is a toaster involved. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 67: Continental Breakfast
Look, I didn't forget. I just got massively sidetracked. I've been thinking about updating this for months. Months!!! And now, the time has come.
Ok, so where were we? Dang, it's been a while. Let's see ...
Justina and Chris are having relations even though Chris is clearly not over Angel, for some unfathomable reason. Alex is cheating on Dustin with Barry, who continues to be awesome. Marie/Violet/Nightshade is trying to lure Scott back into her Evil Web for some reason that probably has to do with Angel, and Angel is embarking upon a seriously gross "relationship" with Jeff "Armsocks" Hardy. Bobby, Felicia, and Mysterious Brother Danny have pretty much fallen off the face of the earth. Or maybe they're hanging out with Mr. P. and Brutus.
Well, now that we're all up to speed, let's get on with this mess.
Chapter 66: Driving South
Angel’s mind was unusually clear as the miles accumulated on her odometer. The farther south she drove, the less stressed she felt [that’s probably because there’s a lot less traffic down here]. She was escaping—albeit temporarily—to an unfamiliar place with a relatively unfamiliar person. [note to Angel: this also sounds like a set-up for a horror movie. Just saying]
“Well,” she reasoned to herself, “it’s not entirely unfamiliar … I mean, I’ve been there plenty of times for shows, but to stay somewhere other than a hotel … and with Jeff … that is of course, the unfamiliar thrill.” [good gravy, she even THINKS with ellipses.]
And, truth be told, she was way less apprehensive than she had any right to be. But Jeff didn’t intimidate her, and oddly enough, neither did the prospect of losing her virginity to him—what made Angel feel sick with anger, pain, and confusion was Chris. Driving away from Chris, therefore, seemed like the best idea in the world. She knew it was only temporary, but that fact did not deter her in the slightest.
She remembered when Marty had first suggested sex to her. [Was it before or after he had the flu for seven months?]. They had been dating for a while and, looking back on it, Angel thought that the notion of them having sex was probably way less monumental to Marty than it had been to her. She had been young—quite a few years younger than him—and just embarking upon a new career. Marty was sweet and warm [that was probably the fever], and always seemed perfectly content to wait until Angel was ready.
Until, of course, he cheated on her with Marie.
“Didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself,” she muttered to herself.
But that was the pattern, wasn’t it? Find a wonderful guy, be magically happy, keep him physically distant, get cheated on, find out from someone else.
But that would change with Jeff. The pattern would break. Jeff would get the reverse—her body, but not her heart.
She pulled into the gas station and filled the tank. [a pivotal plot point, no doubt] Before resuming her trip, she called Jeff.
“Hey there. Just letting you know I’m about forty minutes away, according to these directions.”
“That sounds great, Angel. I’m psyched. Hey, do you like ranch dressing?” [un-oh, this sounds kinky]
“Who doesn’t?”
“People with no taste, I guess. I’ll see you soon.”
Angel smiled, closed the phone [wooo flip-phones! I’ve still got one!], and started the engine.
NOTES:
1) I don't remember when I wrote this one, but it was obviously after the invention of non-Zack-Morris-sized cell phones. This fact is embarrassing.
COMING UP NEXT:
We get back into the Dustin/Alex/Barry plot as Chris tries to figure out what to do with his burdensome knowledge. There is a toaster involved. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 67: Continental Breakfast
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Chapter 65: Discovery
Well, it turns out that finishing your dissertation does not automatically equal having no work to do. Silly me. Apologies for the unduly long hiatus. I'm sure I lost all but my most stalwart readers with that break. I understand. I don't have that kind of patience with blogs either.
But if you're here, hi! Welcome back.
Where were we? Ahhhhhhh yes. Angel was rapidly falling prey to Jeff's irresistible charm and armsocks. (charmsocks?) After a stupid phone conversation with Madusa, she decides to go and visit him in NC, where she plans on giving up the goods.
Violet/Marie/Nightshade/whatever lured Scott back into her evil web of seductive lies. For some reason.
Chris and Justina had the good fortune to get stuck in a hotel room next to Barry, who spent the evening entertaining a lady friend.
I think that brings us up to speed. Therefore, with no further ado, I humbly present:
Chapter 65: Discovery
“Again?” Justina cried. “How did we get stuck in a room right next to Barry and his bevy of beauties again?”
“Dumb luck, I guess.”
“I’m going to start banging on the wall with a hockey stick. That always worked in college.” [oh, how Canadian of them!]
“No hocked sticks here. You can use my boot.”
“Ugg. [as in Ugg boot? Somehow I didn’t picture Chris as wearing Ugg boots. But now I totally will.] Let’s just put the TV on again.”
“This lady is just as loud as the one in Harrisburg.”
“I know.” Justina tried burying her head under a pillow. “Oh the plus side,” she said in a muffled voice, “Now I can’t breathe.” She emerged and climbed out of bed. “Where’s the boot?”
“Foss, you can’t. I’ll make sure not to get a room next to him next time. I promise.”
She sighed. “Fine.”
“Come back to bed. I’ll find us a nice infomercial.”
“Chris? Listen.”
“Foss … eew.”
“It’s the same woman.”
“I reaffirm: eew.”
“It is!”
“So?”
“I’m just saying.”
“Saying what?”
“That I’m a busybody.”
“You can say that again. Give me the remote.”
“Hang on … I can almost make out her name.”
“Foss! Give them some privacy!”
“Privacy? If they wanted privacy, they’d moan more quietly. And they’d stop shouting each others’ names so effusively.”
“Effusively?”
“I know big words.” She left the bed. [when did she get back in bed? How can I not maintain continuity when there are only two characters in one room?]
“Apparently. Where are you going?”
“The bathroom.”
“Justina … you are not using a glass to listen in.”
“Gross. Of course not. I just have to pee.”
She reemerged a few minutes later. “Besides, I don’t need one. That last volley of theirs featured impressive enunciation.”
“Mystery solved.” Chris yawned and closed his eyes. “I think they’re done. Goodnight, Foss.”
“Night, Chris. And goodnight Barry and Alex.” She snuggled next to him.
Chris’ eyes snapped open. “Alex?”
“Yep. Problem?”
“No. I mean … it can’t be.”
“What?”
“Just a coincidence, I’m sure.”
“What?” Justina sat up.
“Another guy’s wife has the same name. But I’m sure it’s a common name and all.”
“Well, if this goes the same way it went in Harrisburg, she’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Look out the peephole.”
“Foss, that’s ridiculous.”
“Come on.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“Tell me what she looks like,” Justina said, walking to the door.
“You’re being insanely nosy,” he said, but he followed her and looked out the peephole. [how big is that peephole that both of them can look out of it at the same time?] Nothing. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Shh! She’s leaving!”
Chris watched the hallway. He heard Barry’s door open. There was muttering and giggling, and then, she walked towards the elevator, past Chris and Justina’s room.
It was Alexandra York Rhodes.
NOTES:
1) OHHHHHHHHHHHH SNAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wait, were any of you surprised? No one? Huh.
2) I can't help it. I still kind of like Justina and Chris. Maybe it's just the fact that she's not Angel, but I remember having fun writing their scenes way back when.
3) Speaking of way back when: thin walls, love triangles, level 20 drama ... hoo boy, there are a few things about college I will probably never miss. (things I do miss include, but are not limited to: eating pierogies at 2 AM, DDR marathons, being used as a human jump-rope)
COMING UP NEXT ...
Oh boy! We will be treated to one of Angel's extended internal monologues. Now there's a way to get readers back. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 66: Driving South
But if you're here, hi! Welcome back.
Where were we? Ahhhhhhh yes. Angel was rapidly falling prey to Jeff's irresistible charm and armsocks. (charmsocks?) After a stupid phone conversation with Madusa, she decides to go and visit him in NC, where she plans on giving up the goods.
Violet/Marie/Nightshade/whatever lured Scott back into her evil web of seductive lies. For some reason.
Chris and Justina had the good fortune to get stuck in a hotel room next to Barry, who spent the evening entertaining a lady friend.
I think that brings us up to speed. Therefore, with no further ado, I humbly present:
Chapter 65: Discovery
“Again?” Justina cried. “How did we get stuck in a room right next to Barry and his bevy of beauties again?”
“Dumb luck, I guess.”
“I’m going to start banging on the wall with a hockey stick. That always worked in college.” [oh, how Canadian of them!]
“No hocked sticks here. You can use my boot.”
“Ugg. [as in Ugg boot? Somehow I didn’t picture Chris as wearing Ugg boots. But now I totally will.] Let’s just put the TV on again.”
“This lady is just as loud as the one in Harrisburg.”
“I know.” Justina tried burying her head under a pillow. “Oh the plus side,” she said in a muffled voice, “Now I can’t breathe.” She emerged and climbed out of bed. “Where’s the boot?”
“Foss, you can’t. I’ll make sure not to get a room next to him next time. I promise.”
She sighed. “Fine.”
“Come back to bed. I’ll find us a nice infomercial.”
“Chris? Listen.”
“Foss … eew.”
“It’s the same woman.”
“I reaffirm: eew.”
“It is!”
“So?”
“I’m just saying.”
“Saying what?”
“That I’m a busybody.”
“You can say that again. Give me the remote.”
“Hang on … I can almost make out her name.”
“Foss! Give them some privacy!”
“Privacy? If they wanted privacy, they’d moan more quietly. And they’d stop shouting each others’ names so effusively.”
“Effusively?”
“I know big words.” She left the bed. [when did she get back in bed? How can I not maintain continuity when there are only two characters in one room?]
“Apparently. Where are you going?”
“The bathroom.”
“Justina … you are not using a glass to listen in.”
“Gross. Of course not. I just have to pee.”
She reemerged a few minutes later. “Besides, I don’t need one. That last volley of theirs featured impressive enunciation.”
“Mystery solved.” Chris yawned and closed his eyes. “I think they’re done. Goodnight, Foss.”
“Night, Chris. And goodnight Barry and Alex.” She snuggled next to him.
Chris’ eyes snapped open. “Alex?”
“Yep. Problem?”
“No. I mean … it can’t be.”
“What?”
“Just a coincidence, I’m sure.”
“What?” Justina sat up.
“Another guy’s wife has the same name. But I’m sure it’s a common name and all.”
“Well, if this goes the same way it went in Harrisburg, she’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Look out the peephole.”
“Foss, that’s ridiculous.”
“Come on.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“Tell me what she looks like,” Justina said, walking to the door.
“You’re being insanely nosy,” he said, but he followed her and looked out the peephole. [how big is that peephole that both of them can look out of it at the same time?] Nothing. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Shh! She’s leaving!”
Chris watched the hallway. He heard Barry’s door open. There was muttering and giggling, and then, she walked towards the elevator, past Chris and Justina’s room.
It was Alexandra York Rhodes.
NOTES:
1) OHHHHHHHHHHHH SNAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wait, were any of you surprised? No one? Huh.
2) I can't help it. I still kind of like Justina and Chris. Maybe it's just the fact that she's not Angel, but I remember having fun writing their scenes way back when.
3) Speaking of way back when: thin walls, love triangles, level 20 drama ... hoo boy, there are a few things about college I will probably never miss. (things I do miss include, but are not limited to: eating pierogies at 2 AM, DDR marathons, being used as a human jump-rope)
COMING UP NEXT ...
Oh boy! We will be treated to one of Angel's extended internal monologues. Now there's a way to get readers back. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 66: Driving South
Friday, March 26, 2010
Chapter 64: Violet's Dilemma
Dissertation: DONE! That's right, ladies and gents. If all goes well, by this time a week from now, you can call me Dr. Fuzzy Octopus. (note: Please do. It'll make the last 8 years seem somehow worth it.)
Well then ... this calls for a celebration ... and I know just the thing: a 100% Angel-free chapter! Yippeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Enjoy!:
Chapter 64: Violet’s Dilemma
Chris and Angel had split. Angel seemed relatively miserable for a while there, which was, of course, fabulous, but seemed to have bounced back, and that was rather distressing. On top of all of that, Chris had shown little interest in Violet herself, which left Marie feeling bored and slightly offended. There had to be something else she could do. But Chris was not particularly interesting anymore. So instead she decided to go a different route.
And when you really came down to it, she reasoned, why the hell was she interested in Angel’s leftovers? [uhm, because that’s your M.O.?] But … it would be dangerous to keep her too far away. No—best to stay informed. But being Violet wasn’t doing anything for her anymore. Time to go back—if she could.
She laughed at that thought. Of course she could. She was Marie, Nightshade, Violet. Three in one. And she knew who to call.
------------------------
Scott sat in the diner finishing his second cup of coffee. She was late. Of course she was late. What had even possessed him to agree to meet her in the first place? This was completely ridiculous. He signaled to the waitress for the check.
And then she slid into the booth across from him.
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. I hit some traffic on the way. Scott … you look good.”
“Thanks. You too.” This was an understatement. She had a new haircut—soft layers that framed her face, [ah, the Rachel] and wore a low-cut black top that made it difficult for Scott to keep his eyes on her face.
“Thanks for meeting me here, Scott. I’m sure your gut told you not to.”
“Hey, when have I ever listened to that? What’s up, Marie?”
“How have you been?”
“Good and bad. You know. You?”
“Same.” The waitress approached with a menu. “I’ll have an earl grey tea and a grilled cheese sandwich,” [mmm, grilled cheese sandwich.] she said, waving the menu away. “Scott, I’m just going to be blunt with you, here. I miss you. I know we had issues, and they were mostly my fault—I know I had a jealous streak—but how could I not be jealous? You are an amazing man, and I was so incredibly lucky to be yours. And I was happier with you than I’ve ever been—and I haven’t been happy since we split. I don’t expect you to just drop everything and be with me now. I just wanted to tell you.”
Scott exhaled and leaned back. “Marie. Wow. That’s … that’s a lot to process. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything right now, Scott. I just wanted to tell you how I felt.”
“Ok. I appreciate that, Marie.”
The waitress brought her food. She stirred sugar into her tea.
“I dated this one guy a couple months ago. He seemed like a gem, you know? Kind, smart, friendly. Too friendly, turns out.”
“He … cheated on you?”
“Yep,” Marie said, sipping her tea. “Caught him red-handed. Had his tongue down his secretary’s throat.” [how cliché.]
“Yikes. Sorry, Marie.”
“Yeah, thanks.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a napkin. “Guess it happens.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Scott said. He folded and unfolded a corner of the placemat. [don’t you love diner placemats? They always have the best local ads on them. This one in my hometown had an ad for laser hair removal that featured the vilest “before” picture ever. It was very appetizing.]
“Scott,” Marie said, reaching for his hand. A bold move, she thought, but what do you know? It worked. He let her hand cover his. “What happened?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. [Contain the rage, Scott. Contain the rage.] “Same old story. Boy meets girl, falls for girl, girl runs into her ex-boyfriend and screws him.” [LOL. Not.]
“Ouch. Sorry, Scott. You don’t deserve that.”
Scott shrugged and picked up half of Marie’s sandwich. She grinned at him.
“Can I?”
“Scott, would I have ordered your favorite food and not expected you to snatch half of it?” [grilled cheese sandwiches are his favorite food? What about Angel’s cookies?]
He responded by taking a bite. “So what did you to? To your ex?”
“Nothing.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“He had a $200 bottle of scotch that I might have poured down the drain and replaced with apple juice.”
“That’s pretty tame for you.”
“I know. I definitely considered going the Molotov cocktail route with the scotch, but I’ve matured.” She sipped her tea.
“Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve still got an edge.”
“I’m sure you do.” He ate the rest of her sandwich.
“Hey! You’re paying for that!” she said playfully.
“Maybe I was planning on it anyway, M.” [when did he start calling her that? Or was I suddenly too lazy to write out her whole name?]
Marie smiled.
--------------------
NOTES:
1) What, exactly, was Violet's titular dilemma? She's bored? I guess that's a dilemma. Look, Vi, I don't know if you've read any of the other chapters, but hanging out with Scott is pretty much the opposite of a cure for boredom.
2) How many of you think that Rick was hiding in the booth right behind them, perhaps wearing some sort of inconspicuous disguise, such as a fedora, trenchcoat, and Groucho Marx glasses-nose-eyebrows ensemble?
3) Earl grey tea is what Captain Picard favors. I know this because my brother is quite a fan of Star Trek and any time we are out at a restaurant, he orders "Earl Grey. Hot." in a Captain Picard voice. I guess nerdiness runs in my family. To the best of my knowledge, however, he has never written Star Trek fan fiction.
COMING UP NEXT:
Oh boy! More Chris/Justina/Barry hotel shenanigans. No, not like that.
Chapter 65: Discovery
Well then ... this calls for a celebration ... and I know just the thing: a 100% Angel-free chapter! Yippeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Enjoy!:
Chapter 64: Violet’s Dilemma
Chris and Angel had split. Angel seemed relatively miserable for a while there, which was, of course, fabulous, but seemed to have bounced back, and that was rather distressing. On top of all of that, Chris had shown little interest in Violet herself, which left Marie feeling bored and slightly offended. There had to be something else she could do. But Chris was not particularly interesting anymore. So instead she decided to go a different route.
And when you really came down to it, she reasoned, why the hell was she interested in Angel’s leftovers? [uhm, because that’s your M.O.?] But … it would be dangerous to keep her too far away. No—best to stay informed. But being Violet wasn’t doing anything for her anymore. Time to go back—if she could.
She laughed at that thought. Of course she could. She was Marie, Nightshade, Violet. Three in one. And she knew who to call.
------------------------
Scott sat in the diner finishing his second cup of coffee. She was late. Of course she was late. What had even possessed him to agree to meet her in the first place? This was completely ridiculous. He signaled to the waitress for the check.
And then she slid into the booth across from him.
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. I hit some traffic on the way. Scott … you look good.”
“Thanks. You too.” This was an understatement. She had a new haircut—soft layers that framed her face, [ah, the Rachel] and wore a low-cut black top that made it difficult for Scott to keep his eyes on her face.
“Thanks for meeting me here, Scott. I’m sure your gut told you not to.”
“Hey, when have I ever listened to that? What’s up, Marie?”
“How have you been?”
“Good and bad. You know. You?”
“Same.” The waitress approached with a menu. “I’ll have an earl grey tea and a grilled cheese sandwich,” [mmm, grilled cheese sandwich.] she said, waving the menu away. “Scott, I’m just going to be blunt with you, here. I miss you. I know we had issues, and they were mostly my fault—I know I had a jealous streak—but how could I not be jealous? You are an amazing man, and I was so incredibly lucky to be yours. And I was happier with you than I’ve ever been—and I haven’t been happy since we split. I don’t expect you to just drop everything and be with me now. I just wanted to tell you.”
Scott exhaled and leaned back. “Marie. Wow. That’s … that’s a lot to process. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything right now, Scott. I just wanted to tell you how I felt.”
“Ok. I appreciate that, Marie.”
The waitress brought her food. She stirred sugar into her tea.
“I dated this one guy a couple months ago. He seemed like a gem, you know? Kind, smart, friendly. Too friendly, turns out.”
“He … cheated on you?”
“Yep,” Marie said, sipping her tea. “Caught him red-handed. Had his tongue down his secretary’s throat.” [how cliché.]
“Yikes. Sorry, Marie.”
“Yeah, thanks.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a napkin. “Guess it happens.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Scott said. He folded and unfolded a corner of the placemat. [don’t you love diner placemats? They always have the best local ads on them. This one in my hometown had an ad for laser hair removal that featured the vilest “before” picture ever. It was very appetizing.]
“Scott,” Marie said, reaching for his hand. A bold move, she thought, but what do you know? It worked. He let her hand cover his. “What happened?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. [Contain the rage, Scott. Contain the rage.] “Same old story. Boy meets girl, falls for girl, girl runs into her ex-boyfriend and screws him.” [LOL. Not.]
“Ouch. Sorry, Scott. You don’t deserve that.”
Scott shrugged and picked up half of Marie’s sandwich. She grinned at him.
“Can I?”
“Scott, would I have ordered your favorite food and not expected you to snatch half of it?” [grilled cheese sandwiches are his favorite food? What about Angel’s cookies?]
He responded by taking a bite. “So what did you to? To your ex?”
“Nothing.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“He had a $200 bottle of scotch that I might have poured down the drain and replaced with apple juice.”
“That’s pretty tame for you.”
“I know. I definitely considered going the Molotov cocktail route with the scotch, but I’ve matured.” She sipped her tea.
“Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve still got an edge.”
“I’m sure you do.” He ate the rest of her sandwich.
“Hey! You’re paying for that!” she said playfully.
“Maybe I was planning on it anyway, M.” [when did he start calling her that? Or was I suddenly too lazy to write out her whole name?]
Marie smiled.
--------------------
NOTES:
1) What, exactly, was Violet's titular dilemma? She's bored? I guess that's a dilemma. Look, Vi, I don't know if you've read any of the other chapters, but hanging out with Scott is pretty much the opposite of a cure for boredom.
2) How many of you think that Rick was hiding in the booth right behind them, perhaps wearing some sort of inconspicuous disguise, such as a fedora, trenchcoat, and Groucho Marx glasses-nose-eyebrows ensemble?
3) Earl grey tea is what Captain Picard favors. I know this because my brother is quite a fan of Star Trek and any time we are out at a restaurant, he orders "Earl Grey. Hot." in a Captain Picard voice. I guess nerdiness runs in my family. To the best of my knowledge, however, he has never written Star Trek fan fiction.
COMING UP NEXT:
Oh boy! More Chris/Justina/Barry hotel shenanigans. No, not like that.
Chapter 65: Discovery
Monday, March 1, 2010
Chapter 63: Revelation
Hi again! Obligatory apologies. But look, folks. Once this dissertation is in the bag, I'll have ass-tons of time for this. Not only this, but also video games and television and napping and other important things that I've neglected a lot lately.
So ... where were we? Ah, yes, Barry was GETTIN IT AWN in the hotel room next to Chris and Justina, who are slowly realizing that Chris is never going to get over Angel, because she is the paragon of all virtues. And blonde. For her part, Angel is juuuuust about to call Jeff Hardy. I'll bet you can't wait to see what happens when she does.
Chapter 63: Revelation
Angel had spent the better part of the weekend mulling over her conversation with Madusa. On the one hand, she had been completely right about one thing: Angel had been thinking of her virginity as a burden—something she just wanted to be rid of so that she could move on [that’s really healthy. I hope there are some impressionable young people out there reading this.] On the other hand, move on to what? To life past Chris? Angel had no doubts that her breakup with Chris was fueling this, but she didn’t think it was out of a need for revenge. This wasn’t about Chris so much as it was about herself—her ability to decide this for herself [as opposed to what? Who else is supposed to decide that for you? Oh, I already regret asking.] But Madusa was right about one thing: [you mean one thing in addition to that first thing you mentioned?] she had to tell Jeff. And sooner rather than later. No sense driving all the way down there just to have him laugh at her, or be so freaked out that he asked her to leave [clearly the reaction you should expect from somebody you plan on sleeping with.]
So she bit the bullet. She called Jeff.
“Hey Jeff. This is Angel.”
“Hey there pretty lady.” [DAYUM he is SMOOVE]
They exchanged pleasantries, made flirtatious jokes [what, we’re not privy to them? Tragic]. Jeff was so disarmingly charming that Angel almost forgot why she had called him in the first place.
“Jeff … in all seriousness, I do have one thing I wanted to tell you before I came down next week.”
“Okay.” His tone got less playful. “Shoot.”
“Well … okay … this is going to sound really crazy, I know, but it’s something you should know, and if you don’t want me to come down because it’s too much, then just say the word.”
“What is it, Angel? Oh man … you aren’t … are you married?”
“What! No!” Angel laughed. “No!”
“Thank God. Been there. That’s a mess.”
“There went one of your fifth amendments, Hardy.” She was still in semi-hysterics.
“Hey, don’t laugh! That was a bad time for me!” But he was starting to chuckle himself. [because nothing is funnier than adultery. Oh, the hilarity!]
“I’m sure,” Angel said, collecting herself. “It’s just … well … it’s pretty much the exact opposite of what I’m going to tell you.”
“You’re … not married?”
“Correct.”
“Okay …”
“And … Jeff, I’m a virgin.”
Jeff was dumbfounded.
“Hello?”
“Uh … no, still here, Angel. Sorry, you just caught me off guard there.”
“So … look. I know it’s weird, but it’s true, and I’m not telling you this because I don’t want to come down anymore. I’m telling you this because I do. I want to come down there and … be with you.”
“Wow.”
“But like I said, I know this is weird, and if it’s too much for you to handle [then I probably shouldn’t be sleeping with you anyway, so maybe I should get to know you first … oh, wait, that’s not what she said], I understand. We can call it off.”
“No … Wow. Uhm … wow. Look, I’m not gonna lie. This is a little weird. But hey, Angel, I like you, Okay? I like you. And I think it would be cool to get to know you with your clothes on.” [that’s really romantic.]
“Jeff …”
“And …” He said, anticipating her protest, “And … if you still want to when you get down here, we’ll just … take it from there, okay?”
“Okay.” Angel smiled into the phone. “Uhm … no pressure.”
Jeff laughed. “What pressure? Not like you have anyone to compare me to.” [SNAP!]
“You’re an ass,” she said dryly, still smiling.
“I can be,” he said.
“But look, I meant what I said at brunch. I really don’t want anything serious, sex or no sex.”
“Understood. And I’m with you. Or not, as the case may be.”
“Cool. I’ll see you in a week or so, Jeff.”
“Can’t wait, Angel.”
“Me either.”
NOTES:
1) I think I need a shower. Not a cold shower. One of those chemical showers you take after you’ve been contaminated by some sort of biohazard. Jefgel is so vile.
2) I know what you’re wondering: WTF was wrong with me? Yeah, I really have no answer. My best guess is that I watched a lot of Dawson’s Creek, and that show propagated some seriously unhealthy ideas of sexuality. My other guess is that even as a college student, I had no idea how adults participated in healthy intimate relationships.
Ok then. Let’s shake that one off, shall we?
Coming up next …
Oh boy! Here comes a character I’ll be you’ve almost forgotten about. Try to figure out which one in … Chapter 64: Violet’s Dilemma
So ... where were we? Ah, yes, Barry was GETTIN IT AWN in the hotel room next to Chris and Justina, who are slowly realizing that Chris is never going to get over Angel, because she is the paragon of all virtues. And blonde. For her part, Angel is juuuuust about to call Jeff Hardy. I'll bet you can't wait to see what happens when she does.
Chapter 63: Revelation
Angel had spent the better part of the weekend mulling over her conversation with Madusa. On the one hand, she had been completely right about one thing: Angel had been thinking of her virginity as a burden—something she just wanted to be rid of so that she could move on [that’s really healthy. I hope there are some impressionable young people out there reading this.] On the other hand, move on to what? To life past Chris? Angel had no doubts that her breakup with Chris was fueling this, but she didn’t think it was out of a need for revenge. This wasn’t about Chris so much as it was about herself—her ability to decide this for herself [as opposed to what? Who else is supposed to decide that for you? Oh, I already regret asking.] But Madusa was right about one thing: [you mean one thing in addition to that first thing you mentioned?] she had to tell Jeff. And sooner rather than later. No sense driving all the way down there just to have him laugh at her, or be so freaked out that he asked her to leave [clearly the reaction you should expect from somebody you plan on sleeping with.]
So she bit the bullet. She called Jeff.
“Hey Jeff. This is Angel.”
“Hey there pretty lady.” [DAYUM he is SMOOVE]
They exchanged pleasantries, made flirtatious jokes [what, we’re not privy to them? Tragic]. Jeff was so disarmingly charming that Angel almost forgot why she had called him in the first place.
“Jeff … in all seriousness, I do have one thing I wanted to tell you before I came down next week.”
“Okay.” His tone got less playful. “Shoot.”
“Well … okay … this is going to sound really crazy, I know, but it’s something you should know, and if you don’t want me to come down because it’s too much, then just say the word.”
“What is it, Angel? Oh man … you aren’t … are you married?”
“What! No!” Angel laughed. “No!”
“Thank God. Been there. That’s a mess.”
“There went one of your fifth amendments, Hardy.” She was still in semi-hysterics.
“Hey, don’t laugh! That was a bad time for me!” But he was starting to chuckle himself. [because nothing is funnier than adultery. Oh, the hilarity!]
“I’m sure,” Angel said, collecting herself. “It’s just … well … it’s pretty much the exact opposite of what I’m going to tell you.”
“You’re … not married?”
“Correct.”
“Okay …”
“And … Jeff, I’m a virgin.”
Jeff was dumbfounded.
“Hello?”
“Uh … no, still here, Angel. Sorry, you just caught me off guard there.”
“So … look. I know it’s weird, but it’s true, and I’m not telling you this because I don’t want to come down anymore. I’m telling you this because I do. I want to come down there and … be with you.”
“Wow.”
“But like I said, I know this is weird, and if it’s too much for you to handle [then I probably shouldn’t be sleeping with you anyway, so maybe I should get to know you first … oh, wait, that’s not what she said], I understand. We can call it off.”
“No … Wow. Uhm … wow. Look, I’m not gonna lie. This is a little weird. But hey, Angel, I like you, Okay? I like you. And I think it would be cool to get to know you with your clothes on.” [that’s really romantic.]
“Jeff …”
“And …” He said, anticipating her protest, “And … if you still want to when you get down here, we’ll just … take it from there, okay?”
“Okay.” Angel smiled into the phone. “Uhm … no pressure.”
Jeff laughed. “What pressure? Not like you have anyone to compare me to.” [SNAP!]
“You’re an ass,” she said dryly, still smiling.
“I can be,” he said.
“But look, I meant what I said at brunch. I really don’t want anything serious, sex or no sex.”
“Understood. And I’m with you. Or not, as the case may be.”
“Cool. I’ll see you in a week or so, Jeff.”
“Can’t wait, Angel.”
“Me either.”
NOTES:
1) I think I need a shower. Not a cold shower. One of those chemical showers you take after you’ve been contaminated by some sort of biohazard. Jefgel is so vile.
2) I know what you’re wondering: WTF was wrong with me? Yeah, I really have no answer. My best guess is that I watched a lot of Dawson’s Creek, and that show propagated some seriously unhealthy ideas of sexuality. My other guess is that even as a college student, I had no idea how adults participated in healthy intimate relationships.
Ok then. Let’s shake that one off, shall we?
Coming up next …
Oh boy! Here comes a character I’ll be you’ve almost forgotten about. Try to figure out which one in … Chapter 64: Violet’s Dilemma
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Chapter 62: Harrisburg
Wow. It's been a while. Sorry, folks. I am THIS CLOSE to finishing my dissertation. I can see the light at the end of this 8-year tunnel of garbage. I think I'll be defending at the end of March and graduating in May. Between now and then, I'm probably going to be a little spotty with the updates. I promise never to let it go too long between posts ... but I know I won't be able to keep up my weekly schedule. I'm going to shoot for every 2 weeks. Man, I can't wait to be done with this.
Aaaaaaaaaaanyhoo, when we last left these cretins, Angel had a stupid conversation with Madusa while we all tried to keep our lunches down. Today: Barry!
I apologize for the lack of parenthetical snark in this installment. I got nothing. Feel free to supply your own in the comments section!
Chapter 62: Harrisburg
Chris put his duffel bag down and searched his pockets for the hotel key. As he rummaged, Barry Windham emerged from the neighboring door.
“Hey Barry. Good match tonight.”
“Thanks, man,” Barry said. “I’m going down to the hotel bar to get a drink. Interested?”
Chris pondered this invitation. On the one hand, a drink sounded fabulous. On the other hand, he couldn’t handle running into Angel in the lobby, the bar, the elevator—not tonight. He’d almost botched his blade job badly enough to warrant a trip to the infirmary—-that would have been horrendous—-and he had no interest in tempting fate twice.
“Nah, but thanks. Just going to hang here,” he said.
“Chris? You back?” Justina called from inside the room.
At that, Barry nodded and grinned, “Ah, I get it.”
Chris lifted his arms in mock surrender.
“Catch you later, man,” Barry said. “Hey,” he added, “You stayed in this fleabag before?”
“Dude, compared to that place in Baltimore, this here Harrisburg Best Western is hardly a fleabag.”
Barry laughed. “How thin are the walls?”
“We’ll try to keep it down,” Chris nodded gravely.
“Not me I’m worried about,” Barry said with a sly grin.
“Hey now! Alright, man. I’ll catch you later.”
Barry smacked him heartily on the back and got on to the elevator. “Enjoy your ring rat,” Chris muttered under his breath as he opened the door.
“Hey hot stuff,” Justina greeted. She was wearing very little.
------
Barry did indeed prove to Chris that the walls in the Harrisburg Best Western could use some soundproofing.
“Ugg … Again?” Justina wailed. “How are they at it again?”
“That fella has stamina.”
“And that woman has lungs.”
“You want to try and drown them out?”
“Chris, that’s weird and gross.”
“I meant with the TV.”
“Oh. Yes. Yes. Bring on the infomercials. See if you can find that one where they cut through cans and tomatoes with the same knife.”
“No promises. But I will try.”
“Who is that woman anyway?”
“With Barry? I dunno. As far as I know he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He probably just met her, if you get my drift.” [I don’t know, you’re being pretty opaque.]
“You mean like a hooker?”
“No. Well … probably not. I mean like a ring rat.”
“What’s that?”
“Like a wrestling groupie.” He turned to face her, “How did you date Scott Steiner without ever hearing that term?”
“I dunno. I don’t think he knows what those are either. Like I said, he’s weird. He dated this one crazy woman before he met me.”
“Marie?”
“Yeah. I think that was her name. How’d you know?”
“Long, weird story.” Chris pushed the hair back from Justina’s eyes. “Foss, you know what?”
“What?”
Chris looked into her eyes, unsure of what he was going to say. He had meant to say something sweet and reassuring, something like “I’m happy,” or “I love being with you,” but none of those words would come out. “You … have really beautiful eyes.”
“Aww, thanks, Chris.” She smiled and pecked his nose. “Yours are also lovely. Now what say you hand me that remote. There has to be something better on than the Weather Channel.” [hey, I’ve seen some pretty good stuff on TWC].
“Actually,” Chris said, cocking his head to one side, “I think we’re out of the woods, so to speak.” He muted the TV and they both listened intently.
“I think you’re right,” Justina remarked. “Finally.”
Chris turned off the television. The room sank into darkness once again.
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“How did you know about Marie?”
Chris flipped his pillow to the cool side. “Scott was good friends with Angel. I told you that, no?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you did. It just slipped my mind. Small world, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is. Good night, Foss.”
“Night, Chris.”
NOTES:
1) Oh Barry, you're such a player.
2) Poor Justina. Chris can't even tell you that he's happy. Oh Chris, why can't you get over Angel? How hard can it be?
COMING UP NEXT:
Angel overthinks things some more and then calls Jeff. Boy howdy, Jeff is as charming as can be. And Angel is just cute as a button! Those two crazy kids and their charming cuteness! I can’t wait! I hope you’re just as excited as I am for …
Chapter 63 - Revelation
Aaaaaaaaaaanyhoo, when we last left these cretins, Angel had a stupid conversation with Madusa while we all tried to keep our lunches down. Today: Barry!
I apologize for the lack of parenthetical snark in this installment. I got nothing. Feel free to supply your own in the comments section!
Chapter 62: Harrisburg
Chris put his duffel bag down and searched his pockets for the hotel key. As he rummaged, Barry Windham emerged from the neighboring door.
“Hey Barry. Good match tonight.”
“Thanks, man,” Barry said. “I’m going down to the hotel bar to get a drink. Interested?”
Chris pondered this invitation. On the one hand, a drink sounded fabulous. On the other hand, he couldn’t handle running into Angel in the lobby, the bar, the elevator—not tonight. He’d almost botched his blade job badly enough to warrant a trip to the infirmary—-that would have been horrendous—-and he had no interest in tempting fate twice.
“Nah, but thanks. Just going to hang here,” he said.
“Chris? You back?” Justina called from inside the room.
At that, Barry nodded and grinned, “Ah, I get it.”
Chris lifted his arms in mock surrender.
“Catch you later, man,” Barry said. “Hey,” he added, “You stayed in this fleabag before?”
“Dude, compared to that place in Baltimore, this here Harrisburg Best Western is hardly a fleabag.”
Barry laughed. “How thin are the walls?”
“We’ll try to keep it down,” Chris nodded gravely.
“Not me I’m worried about,” Barry said with a sly grin.
“Hey now! Alright, man. I’ll catch you later.”
Barry smacked him heartily on the back and got on to the elevator. “Enjoy your ring rat,” Chris muttered under his breath as he opened the door.
“Hey hot stuff,” Justina greeted. She was wearing very little.
------
Barry did indeed prove to Chris that the walls in the Harrisburg Best Western could use some soundproofing.
“Ugg … Again?” Justina wailed. “How are they at it again?”
“That fella has stamina.”
“And that woman has lungs.”
“You want to try and drown them out?”
“Chris, that’s weird and gross.”
“I meant with the TV.”
“Oh. Yes. Yes. Bring on the infomercials. See if you can find that one where they cut through cans and tomatoes with the same knife.”
“No promises. But I will try.”
“Who is that woman anyway?”
“With Barry? I dunno. As far as I know he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He probably just met her, if you get my drift.” [I don’t know, you’re being pretty opaque.]
“You mean like a hooker?”
“No. Well … probably not. I mean like a ring rat.”
“What’s that?”
“Like a wrestling groupie.” He turned to face her, “How did you date Scott Steiner without ever hearing that term?”
“I dunno. I don’t think he knows what those are either. Like I said, he’s weird. He dated this one crazy woman before he met me.”
“Marie?”
“Yeah. I think that was her name. How’d you know?”
“Long, weird story.” Chris pushed the hair back from Justina’s eyes. “Foss, you know what?”
“What?”
Chris looked into her eyes, unsure of what he was going to say. He had meant to say something sweet and reassuring, something like “I’m happy,” or “I love being with you,” but none of those words would come out. “You … have really beautiful eyes.”
“Aww, thanks, Chris.” She smiled and pecked his nose. “Yours are also lovely. Now what say you hand me that remote. There has to be something better on than the Weather Channel.” [hey, I’ve seen some pretty good stuff on TWC].
“Actually,” Chris said, cocking his head to one side, “I think we’re out of the woods, so to speak.” He muted the TV and they both listened intently.
“I think you’re right,” Justina remarked. “Finally.”
Chris turned off the television. The room sank into darkness once again.
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“How did you know about Marie?”
Chris flipped his pillow to the cool side. “Scott was good friends with Angel. I told you that, no?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you did. It just slipped my mind. Small world, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is. Good night, Foss.”
“Night, Chris.”
NOTES:
1) Oh Barry, you're such a player.
2) Poor Justina. Chris can't even tell you that he's happy. Oh Chris, why can't you get over Angel? How hard can it be?
COMING UP NEXT:
Angel overthinks things some more and then calls Jeff. Boy howdy, Jeff is as charming as can be. And Angel is just cute as a button! Those two crazy kids and their charming cuteness! I can’t wait! I hope you’re just as excited as I am for …
Chapter 63 - Revelation
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Chapter 61: Deuce
When we last left our witless crew of characters, Chris and Justina were making the impossibly harrowing trek from Baltimore to Harrisburg. Today, Angel calls and old friend on the phone and gets some remarkably reasonable advice.
Now if you're like me, ever since that episode of The Office where Michael said: "Two queens on Casino Night. I am going to... drop a deuce on everybody," you giggle when you hear the word "Deuce." If this is the case for you, then get ready to chuckle your way through ...
Chapter 61: Deuce
As soon as Angel had hung up the phone, she knew she had made a crazy mistake. But she also knew she couldn’t very well call Jeff back and un-invite herself [uhm, why not?] And mostly, she wanted to go visit him. She wanted to get away from life for a while—to not have to go to work early and leave late so she wouldn’t have to see Chris—to not have to glare at every woman with red hair just in case she was the one. A break was most assuredly in order. But this? This was crazy.
“Because I can’t not have sex with him,” she said aloud to the empty room. [uhm, again, why not? Are you planning on slipping yourself some roofies?]
That was wrong. Obviously she could do whatever she wanted. More accurately, then: “Because I want to have sex with him. And I’m going to. Aaaaaaaaaand … I’m talking to myself. This is why I need female friends.” She rubbed her temples and flopped down on her hotel bed. [how did she get to her hotel? Wasn’t she just in her office?] She opened her address book and flipped through the names.
“Madusa!” she nearly squealed. It had been a while, but she hoped her old friend would be awake. [how does the first half of that sentence relate to the second half of that sentence?]
“Hello?”
“Deuce!”
“Angel!”
“Sorry to call so late.”
“Not a problem. How the hell are you?”
“Good. Crazy. Good.”
They spent the next hour catching up. Madusa, as it turned out, had gotten into racing monster trucks, and had no intention of returning to the business. [I did not make that up]
“I wouldn’t mind a break myself,” said Angel. “Which brings me to my current situation.”
“Angel, are you thinking of leaving because of what happened with Chris?”
“No. Not leaving. Just going on a vacation.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“A vacation with Jeff. At his house in North Carolina.”
“Ang, that sounds better than not bad.”
“I know. But … Deuce, I have a weird question.”
“Shoot.”
“So … I’m pretty sure we’re going to have sex.”
“Yeah …?”
“Well … this will be … my first time.”
“Wait … seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Ok. Well, are you sure you want it to be with Jeff?”
“I think so. Deuce, do you think he will be able to tell?”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Nope.”
“And you’re not planning on telling him in advance?”
“I don’t know. Won’t that be awkward?” [not as awkward as, say, having sex with someone that you don’t trust enough to be honest with about the fact that you’ve never had sex before.]
“I can think of several potentially awkward things about this situation.”
“I know.”
“You really should tell him. Otherwise, he’ll go in with guns blazing.”
“What does that mean?”
“Angel …”
“Ok, Ok, I know what you mean. But how do I bring this up?” [didn’t have to ask that last time you were in a hotel room with Jeff. BOOYA!]
“How about the direct approach? Couple that with honesty and you’re good to go.”
“He’s going to think I’m a huge freak.” [tell him he can take a number]
“And if he does, he’s not worth your virginity.”
That thought gave Angel pause. [maybe it’s because it’s the first sensible thing any character has ever said in this entire tome]
“I’m right, Angel.”
“I know.”
“Your virginity isn’t, like, this disease you’ve got to get rid of so you can be a normal person. It’s your body and your decision.”
“I know. I just feel like it’s a weight around my neck, you know? Something I should have gotten over with when I was a teenager.”
“I think you’d be amazed how many people wish they could take a good deal of the decisions they made as a teenager back.”
“I just … it’s like it’s become this huge deal … something bigger than it has to be.”
“According to who?”
“I don’t know, Deuce. To me, I guess. I always thought that waiting until marriage was the safest option, because then I’d be sure that the guy I lost it to would never hurt me, but I know that’s a fantasy. People hurt people. And Chris wanted to marry me, but that wasn’t enough for me. I don’t trust guys, Deuce, and I’m not entirely sure that that’s a bad thing. I don’t need to trust Jeff for this.”
“Angel, that’s ridiculous.”
“That’s not what I mean entirely. I mean, I do trust him to respect me and to be careful about stuff, but I don’t’ trust him with my heart, because he’ll never get it. “
“So you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“That he’s getting your cherry [gross] or that he’s not getting your heart?”
“Deuce!” Angel groaned. She then added: “Both.”
“You have to tell him.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Before you have sex with him.”
“I get it, Madusa, I get it.”
“Just checking.”
“It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“Probably. Maybe. I think it does for most women. This is, of course, one of the main reasons for you to tell him. Guns blazing, Ang.” [I think we all could have done without that reminder.]
“Duly noted. Thanks for the advice.”
“Of course. Ang—just remember something—you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. And you don’t need to get back at Chris via having sex with Jeff.”
Angel was silent.
“Ang?”
“I hear you, Deuce. Maybe … maybe it’s not about getting back at him …” She sniffled audibly; the tears were starting. “Maybe it’s about forgetting him. When I was with Jeff, I never thought about Chris.”
“Angel?” Madusa said gently, “If you replaced the word ‘Jeff’ with ‘booze’ or ‘pills,’ I’d be worried.”
“But I didn’t.”
“No. And I don’t mean to lecture you … I’m just saying be careful. Do what feels right. Don’t force anything. And most importantly …”
“Yes?”
“Call me when you get back.”
Angel laughed. “I will. And Madusa?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
NOTES
1) I could make a gross comment about Madusa's "don't force anything" advice, but I will restrain myself. Instead, I will just giggle. Hee hee!!!
2) I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually feel kind of sorry for Angel. Trying to erase one guy with another. I've been there, lady. Sometimes you're better off with booze or pills. Not that I've ever really had either. Except that time at my rehearsal dinner where I was so stressed out by my mother-in-law that I actually had a rum and coke in the hopes that it would mellow me out. It worked. It tasted like nasty on fire, but it worked. Wait, where was I? Oh yes. My larger point is that using people to get over other people can make just as much trouble as using various substances. Now that I can attest to. Man, I did a lot of stupid things when I was in college. Without booze or pills.
3) Can you imagine how different this conversation would have been if Angel had called Rick instead?
COMING UP NEXT ...
Yay, another Angel-free chapter! Not only Angel-free ... but ... ellipses for emphasis ... BARRY-FULL! Whee! Tune in next week for ...
Chapter 62: Harrisburg
Now if you're like me, ever since that episode of The Office where Michael said: "Two queens on Casino Night. I am going to... drop a deuce on everybody," you giggle when you hear the word "Deuce." If this is the case for you, then get ready to chuckle your way through ...
Chapter 61: Deuce
As soon as Angel had hung up the phone, she knew she had made a crazy mistake. But she also knew she couldn’t very well call Jeff back and un-invite herself [uhm, why not?] And mostly, she wanted to go visit him. She wanted to get away from life for a while—to not have to go to work early and leave late so she wouldn’t have to see Chris—to not have to glare at every woman with red hair just in case she was the one. A break was most assuredly in order. But this? This was crazy.
“Because I can’t not have sex with him,” she said aloud to the empty room. [uhm, again, why not? Are you planning on slipping yourself some roofies?]
That was wrong. Obviously she could do whatever she wanted. More accurately, then: “Because I want to have sex with him. And I’m going to. Aaaaaaaaaand … I’m talking to myself. This is why I need female friends.” She rubbed her temples and flopped down on her hotel bed. [how did she get to her hotel? Wasn’t she just in her office?] She opened her address book and flipped through the names.
“Madusa!” she nearly squealed. It had been a while, but she hoped her old friend would be awake. [how does the first half of that sentence relate to the second half of that sentence?]
“Hello?”
“Deuce!”
“Angel!”
“Sorry to call so late.”
“Not a problem. How the hell are you?”
“Good. Crazy. Good.”
They spent the next hour catching up. Madusa, as it turned out, had gotten into racing monster trucks, and had no intention of returning to the business. [I did not make that up]
“I wouldn’t mind a break myself,” said Angel. “Which brings me to my current situation.”
“Angel, are you thinking of leaving because of what happened with Chris?”
“No. Not leaving. Just going on a vacation.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“A vacation with Jeff. At his house in North Carolina.”
“Ang, that sounds better than not bad.”
“I know. But … Deuce, I have a weird question.”
“Shoot.”
“So … I’m pretty sure we’re going to have sex.”
“Yeah …?”
“Well … this will be … my first time.”
“Wait … seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Ok. Well, are you sure you want it to be with Jeff?”
“I think so. Deuce, do you think he will be able to tell?”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Nope.”
“And you’re not planning on telling him in advance?”
“I don’t know. Won’t that be awkward?” [not as awkward as, say, having sex with someone that you don’t trust enough to be honest with about the fact that you’ve never had sex before.]
“I can think of several potentially awkward things about this situation.”
“I know.”
“You really should tell him. Otherwise, he’ll go in with guns blazing.”
“What does that mean?”
“Angel …”
“Ok, Ok, I know what you mean. But how do I bring this up?” [didn’t have to ask that last time you were in a hotel room with Jeff. BOOYA!]
“How about the direct approach? Couple that with honesty and you’re good to go.”
“He’s going to think I’m a huge freak.” [tell him he can take a number]
“And if he does, he’s not worth your virginity.”
That thought gave Angel pause. [maybe it’s because it’s the first sensible thing any character has ever said in this entire tome]
“I’m right, Angel.”
“I know.”
“Your virginity isn’t, like, this disease you’ve got to get rid of so you can be a normal person. It’s your body and your decision.”
“I know. I just feel like it’s a weight around my neck, you know? Something I should have gotten over with when I was a teenager.”
“I think you’d be amazed how many people wish they could take a good deal of the decisions they made as a teenager back.”
“I just … it’s like it’s become this huge deal … something bigger than it has to be.”
“According to who?”
“I don’t know, Deuce. To me, I guess. I always thought that waiting until marriage was the safest option, because then I’d be sure that the guy I lost it to would never hurt me, but I know that’s a fantasy. People hurt people. And Chris wanted to marry me, but that wasn’t enough for me. I don’t trust guys, Deuce, and I’m not entirely sure that that’s a bad thing. I don’t need to trust Jeff for this.”
“Angel, that’s ridiculous.”
“That’s not what I mean entirely. I mean, I do trust him to respect me and to be careful about stuff, but I don’t’ trust him with my heart, because he’ll never get it. “
“So you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“That he’s getting your cherry [gross] or that he’s not getting your heart?”
“Deuce!” Angel groaned. She then added: “Both.”
“You have to tell him.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Before you have sex with him.”
“I get it, Madusa, I get it.”
“Just checking.”
“It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“Probably. Maybe. I think it does for most women. This is, of course, one of the main reasons for you to tell him. Guns blazing, Ang.” [I think we all could have done without that reminder.]
“Duly noted. Thanks for the advice.”
“Of course. Ang—just remember something—you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. And you don’t need to get back at Chris via having sex with Jeff.”
Angel was silent.
“Ang?”
“I hear you, Deuce. Maybe … maybe it’s not about getting back at him …” She sniffled audibly; the tears were starting. “Maybe it’s about forgetting him. When I was with Jeff, I never thought about Chris.”
“Angel?” Madusa said gently, “If you replaced the word ‘Jeff’ with ‘booze’ or ‘pills,’ I’d be worried.”
“But I didn’t.”
“No. And I don’t mean to lecture you … I’m just saying be careful. Do what feels right. Don’t force anything. And most importantly …”
“Yes?”
“Call me when you get back.”
Angel laughed. “I will. And Madusa?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
NOTES
1) I could make a gross comment about Madusa's "don't force anything" advice, but I will restrain myself. Instead, I will just giggle. Hee hee!!!
2) I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually feel kind of sorry for Angel. Trying to erase one guy with another. I've been there, lady. Sometimes you're better off with booze or pills. Not that I've ever really had either. Except that time at my rehearsal dinner where I was so stressed out by my mother-in-law that I actually had a rum and coke in the hopes that it would mellow me out. It worked. It tasted like nasty on fire, but it worked. Wait, where was I? Oh yes. My larger point is that using people to get over other people can make just as much trouble as using various substances. Now that I can attest to. Man, I did a lot of stupid things when I was in college. Without booze or pills.
3) Can you imagine how different this conversation would have been if Angel had called Rick instead?
COMING UP NEXT ...
Yay, another Angel-free chapter! Not only Angel-free ... but ... ellipses for emphasis ... BARRY-FULL! Whee! Tune in next week for ...
Chapter 62: Harrisburg
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