|Subject:||In Which Our Heroine Does Something Unexpected...|
|Author:||Billina (Authenticated as Billina)|
|Date:||August 18, 2012 at 5:09:57 PM|
|Reply to:||Build-a-Story: Round Two! by Viola Eponine|
Dextra wondered if Chaz would press charges, but she wasn't too worried about it. Chaz was a proud man, and he would sooner die than tell a cop that a girl hurt him so badly he wanted to lock her up. She put her worries in the back of her mind and went to work.
The thrift store was unbearably hot inside; Mia never left the door open. Dextra fanned herself as she wedged the doorstop under the door.
"Jesus, Mia," she said. "Our customers will bake in here."
"What customers?" asked Mia, not bothering to take her eyes from the issue of Spin she was reading. "No one ever comes in here."
Dextra was silent. She was right. The Dress-Up Box was in a bad location, and the only regulars they had were a few old ladies who went over the merchandise with their arthritic hands for hours without actually buying anything.
Mia tossed the magazine across the counter and slumped on her stool. She was tall, reed-thin, and wore an impressive mass of white-girl dreds piled on top of her head.
"So, I heard a rumor," she said, her cool blue eyes locked on Dextra. "However, I will not proceed without a measure of... trepidation ."
"Oh? And why is that?" Mia's overblown vocabulary often annoyed Dextra, but she let it go. She was eager to hear just how much of the Chaz story Mia had heard.
"Well, I know how you don't like people to pry into your personal life," explained Mia. "And, if I piss you off, I might suffer third-degree burns."
"So you heard, huh?"
"Of course I did," said Mia. "News like that travels fast."
"Yeah, I suppose it does." Dextra sat on the stool beside Mia and put her head in her hands. "Shit, now people are going to think I'm some kind of psycho."
"Yes, they will," said Mia. "But at least they're talking about you. That's always a plus."
"No such thing as bad publicity, huh?"
"Nope." Mia stood and stretched. "Actually, I'm kind of proud of you. You wasted WAY too much time with that pallid little moron."
"Chaz isn't pallid ," she said, lamely.
"Oh, yes he is," chuckled Mia. "Fish bellies are darker than Charles Linderson."
Dextra finally cracked a smile. As full of herself as Mia was, she was good to have around when you were down.
An ancient lady with blue-gray hair entered the store. The girls nodded politely as she made her way to the racks.
"That whole relationship was an abomination," said Dextra. "I remember the look on Chaz's face when I asked him to go down on me. You could tell the very thought repulsed him."
"Blue-haired pitchers have big ears, Dex."
"Oh, no they don't," said Dextra. "That old broad is so deaf, she couldn't hear a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant. I know- she's been in here before."
Sure enough, the old lady continued to paw through the racks as if nothing had happened. Mia giggled.
"So he refused to indulge you with a little oral sex," she said. "Well, I can't say I blame you, there. If a guy refused to go down on me, I'd have ended it right then."
"I was nineteen," said Dextra with a shrug. "I didn't know any better."
"What did he do, anyway?" asked Mia.
"Well...he cheated on me, then asked me to move in with him."
"Uh-huh," she said. "You definitely did the right thing."
Dextra flipped through the copy of Spin . The old lady brought a hideous orange blouse with pink ruffles to the register, and Mia rang her up.
"I can't stand that wishy-washy shit," said Dextra. "I'm not even a violent person, but if there is ONE thing that can set me off, it's when a guy keeps you dangling. It's such an insult ."
"Well, at least you have the memory of Fish Belly's singed flesh as a keepsake. I wish I had the balls the end my bad relationships that way."
"I'm free, now," said Dextra. "I can go out and do anything, or anybody . Want to join me tonight? Maybe go somewhere for a drink, see a good band?"
"Sure," said Mia. "But if you're asking me out, you have to ask me out on a proper date."
"What are you talking about?"
"You said it yourself: You can do anything, or anybody . Why limit the 'anybody' to all the males you know?"
"I...I'm not a gay, Mia. Neither are you, come to think of it."
"Oh, labels, labels, labels," sighed Mia. "Gotta love 'em. Straight, gay, who gives a shit? Besides, it's not like you and I haven't... done anything before."
Dextra remembered Mia's New Year's Eve party all too well. Bombed on Captain Morgan and a little hashish, Mia had kissed her as the ball dropped. Before she knew it, they were making out on Mia's bed, though it didn't go any further than that.
"Okay," said Dextra. "I'll go out on a 'proper date' with you, whatever the hell that means. Do people like us even go on dates? Or do we just enjoy things ironically?"
Mia laughed and told Dextra she'd pick her up at nine.
"Rory's brother's coworker's band is playing at The Boiler Room," she said. "We'll check them out, maybe get a little Captain Morgan." Mia's eyebrow arched, and Dextra blushed again. What was she doing? She didn't know, but she didn't care. Fish Belly Chaz wasn't around to wag his finger anymore.
"An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way."
"And by the way, dearie, your punctuation sucks canal water!"
-The ghost of Vivian Vance
This message was edited by the author on August 18, 2012 at 5:16:28 PM
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