If you haven’t read part 1, start here.
If you haven’t read part 2, start here.
“Waddup bitches, see you’ve met my friend. Huge cock, case you were wondering. Name’s Freddy,” said Freddy, as he extended his hand out for the girls to shake.
Donald took Freddy’s hand, then yanked him along with him, away from the two girls. “Time to leave.”
“Strip club?” said Freddy.
The pair passed through the doorway, hurried by the smoke crowds, and headed toward the parking lot.
“She’s not feeling it. I don’t want to be here, this isn’t me,” said Donald.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Freddy. He stopped on the sidewalk. “If you want to leave to go somewhere else, that’s one thing, but if you wanna book it ’cause of some chick-”
“I know, I get it, that makes me a pussy.”
“Jeeze, Donald,” said Freddy. He looked his buddy in the eye. “I wasn’t gonna call you that, you know.”
“Super pussy. That was it.” Freddy’s eyes bulged, and he pointed back toward the bar. “Look!”
Donald whirled around. The two girls were approaching, only Thurma walked stilted, like Amanda may have had a gun to her back.
“Bye I guess,” Thurma said to Donald, as they passed.
Donald waved back. “Nice meeting you,” he muttered after they were out of earshot.
“Is your dick for sale cause that shits in demand these days,” said Freddy.
“What are you talking about?”
“You leave. She leaves. She comes your way, wishes you a goodnight, checks out your package. What do you do? You rotate your hand like the slow-mix setting of a god-damned cake mixer.”
“She checked out my package?”
“Winked at it.”
Donald gulped, lightly patted his hair, then slid his hand along his button-down to smooth out the creases. He then shook his head and turned to Freddy.
“I’m only going over there if you’re one-hundred percent sure she’s interested.”
“Bro,” started Freddy. “Interests is for loaners. Girl is invested. You know who invests?”
“Shit rhymes, bro,” said Freddy. “Called a metaphorical simile.”
Freddy kicked Donald in the ass, leading him to stumble off in the direction of Amanda and Thurma.
“Go get her heart-breaker,” said Freddy.
Donald caught himself then continued to follow his feet.”I think I can,” He said to himself. A new flurry of visuals played through his mind, the type he wasn’t accustomed to – confident images. He stopped thinking of himself as an inconvenience to the world around him, and began to entertain the possibility that he actually could make a girl happy, and maybe Thurma would be the one for him.
“I think I can,” he said to himself, chugging along the sidewalk tracks. “I think I can.”
To be continued…
- Thomas M. Watt