Two Girls
The noise plastered the walls.
“SO AFTER HE HANDED ME BACK THE ASSESSMENT…” She was yelling over the music. “HE FLIRTED WITH ME A BIT IT WAS SOOOO FUNNY.” A glass breaking caught her attention, if only for a minute. “HE DOESN”T KNOW I LIKE GIRLS.” She covered her mouth with her hand and belted out a chuckle. “ISN”T IT LIKE OBVIOUS?” She questioned.
The girl she was speaking to, Barbara had little in the way of the conversation, only squeezing out tight-lipped “yeahs” and “oks.”
“YEAH IT WAS FUNNY. SO HOW ABOUT YOU? WHAT DO YOU, LIKE, DO?”
“I’ll be right back.” Barbara excused herself from the bar and tip-toed to another girl, a brunette, slim and tall.
Kelly just sighed and turned towards the bar. She wasn’t so good with the ladies.
It was another night out, and not one of any note-worthy compliments. Kelly’s best friend. Monica, was exploring her heterosexual side by being pounded alongside some feminine man who may as well have been gay himself (for he had the body of a twelve year old school girl and less facial hair than a manatees belly).
Kelly has only been hitting the nightclub strips as of the last few nights, only being pressured into it by the wildly successful Monica.
“You know what YOU need to do?” Monica questioned.
“I know where you’re going with this, and I’m fine just chilling here.”
“Stop it, you need to get LAID girlie, you need a sweet beautiful woman caressing your backside…” Monica rubbed her left hand in a quick circle around Kelly’s back. “Not me though sweetie, that’d be weird.” Monica sat up and put her hands to the side. “Tomorrow night, you+me.”
She didn’t give Kelly an option. She was heading out tomorrow night.
Kelly severely underestimated the ease of picking up woman at the night club/bar.
“HEY WHAT”S YOUR NAME?”
The loud hip hop beat pulsed throughout the room, making Kelly’s hands ever-so-noticeably with each thumping point of the bass. The music made reasonable communication utterly impossible. It was only in the favor of Kelly that everyone who goes to the clubs has established the screaming portion quite firmly.
“I FEEL REALLY SILLY SCREAMING AT YOU LIKE THIS.” Kelly, though, was unaware of this understood element of the scene.
“WHAT?!” Her hearing wasn’t accustomed.
“NO I DON’T GO OUT MUCH.” Kelly made it all obvious.
“OK. HOPEFULLY I’LL SEE YA AROUND.” The woman Kelly was talking too got up and walked to the bathroom. Kelly sat there confused and gaping for quite some time until the bartender distracted her.
“Need another drink.” Her voice was subdued but still powerful, clearly heard over the uhntissuhntissuhntiss of the music channeling the walls and floor.
“Ummm…NO. NO I’M FINE THANKS.” Kelly turned off to the side but a tap on her shoulder stirred her back to the front table of the bar.
“Why don’t they pick a side?” the bartender questioned.
“HUH?”
“Pick a side. They play rap, they play techno…I mean which will it be, there’s a war here.” The woman tilted her head to the side and smiled while picking up a mostly empty glass from her left.
Kelly only smiled awkwardly back.
“See that girl their?” the bartender quirped. Kelly and the bartender leaned forward closing their ears beside each other and skewed their vision down the center of the club. “Stay away from her, she’s straight.” Kelly put a confused look on her face. “Don’t let her fool you.” Kelly gave the bartender a quick glance and looked forward again.
“And that little devil there with the white coat. That bitch is crazy. She’ll ask for a hand job first night, no question, and you ain’t gonna get nothing in return, I don’t care how pretty your hair is or how much your camel toe creases.” Kelly placed a well-timed smirk upon her face, a little less nervous than before.
“Aren’t you not supposed to call other girl’s bitches? It’s against, like, girl ethic?”
The bartender laughed explicitly and leaned back over the counter into her typical position and put her hand forward.
“Name’s Raquel.” They shook hands. “You’re far too new to jump right to Molly Brown’s. You need to try a more…amateur club first sweetheart.” Kelly just nodded and squeezed out a displaced “thanks.”
“Oh what the fuck!” the bartender looked up making Kelly turn her head around and analyze her rear. “Those security pricks are SO fucking blind sometimes, HEY!” Raquel smacked her hands against the table top.
“Get those guys OUTTA here girls! No dicks allowed!” Two men, one with shades and a hood up and another looking more feminine than a Victoria secret model were escorted out of the club by a nice collection of scantily-clad woman of the outrageously masculine angle.
The bartender was indeed right. Molly Brown’s was simply a level too high for our nightclub virgin Kelly.
Kelly, called her mom. After a lengthy conversation about mostly shit, some other stuff most people would FIND shit, and a few gossip-infused facts about celebrities (and shit) her mom did offer one small bit of advice.
“You need a new approach…honey.”
It echoed in Kelly’s ears every few minutes.
“Your mom just wants you go to date guys.” Monica retorted upon hearing of the conversation Kelly had with her mom.
“That’s not what she means. She means like, don’t meet chicks at the club, they ain’t gonna be my type anyway.”
“Fuck that.
“Listen to me for a second. When you look for girls in a trashcan, all you’re gonna find is trash.” Monica’s face fell flat. “See, you can go to the club and try to find a girl who ain’t trash. And you could very well find one, I mean, people sometimes throw away stuff that is valuable and shit. BUT, when you go to that girl and try to get with her, she’ll assume YOU’RE trash too and no one is gonna get anywhere.” Kelly paused and Monica just stood still for a brief moment, confused.
“Jesus Christ Kel chill out. You know how much of a blast the club is, and I met, like, all my friends at the club.”
“Exactly.
“Exactly what, Kelly?”
“The club sucks and I’m not surprised you met all your equally sucktastic friends there.”
“Like who Kel?”
“Like that one crazy chick, Reena or whatever.” Monica just gave a quick glance up to the ceiling and back down. She nodded and began walking over to the couch.
“I was fucked in there Monica.” Kelly laid back on the couch, arms crossed and face sealed.
“So you, like…DIDN’T want to get laid?”
“I do but not like that.”
“Kel, any of those girls would have had sex with you. Shit, I would if it wouldn’t be so, like, weird or whatever.” Monica sat down at a coffee table beside the couch.
“You’re missing the point.”
“The point of what?”
“Monica, don’t you want a, like, COMPANION? Someone you can kiss and hug and go to the mall with and Disneyworld and all that shit.”
“That’s what you’re for.”
“And what if I decide to go with my girlfriend and not you?”
“I call you a bitch and slap you in the face.” Monica tilted her head and smiled. “Plus don’t kid yourself, you ain’t never getting a girlfriend.”
Kelly crossed her arms even tighter across her body and bit her lip. “Anyways, weren’t you supposed be my, like, wing-girl in there or something?”
“It only works like that in the movies.” Monica shrugged and sat up from the coffee table and went off to the kitchen. “Want any up-your-mass?”
“WHAT? No. Monica shit I’m pissed as hell over here. You left me hanging in the club last night, I looked like a fucking idiot.”
“Now you know what it feels like to be a guy.” The blender erupted and Kelly’s following words were quickly drowned it.
“Yea bgheeeebutbgheeeee I don’tbgheeeeee deserve thbgheeeeat crap…”
The blender stopped. Monica grabbed the handle and poured some thick white up-your-mass into a murky cup. It drooped to the bottom.
“What?” she blurted out after pouring the whole glass.
“Nevermind.” The evening dawned quickly over silence.
After a few nights of less social interaction than even the most isolated of men, Kelly gave a bright idea a shot.
Online dating.
She dubbed herself a tag name, KellyMagic2, and logged in appropriately. First was the picture. She picked one from the club the other night. Kelly was mildly frowning but that was of no matter. It defined her personality.
It began easy. Name, age, city, favorite color (as if someone’s gonna see the profile and say “green? Ew, I hate green, fuck that girl.”)
But then it got harder. The infamous page, the only one that truly matters (next to favorite animal). The “About Me” page.
God. Damn it.
About Me: I like to go out and have fun. I’m relaxed and chill and like to have a good time! Looking for a sweet person to meet and hang around with. I love to spend time with friends. Message me and say hi! 
It was disgustingly vague. What is ANYONE gonna gain by reading this? Kelly closed the screen in frustration and walked out the door on a Taco Bell run. Chicken Burrito. Maybe just a simple soft taco. Hard tacos suck. They always crumble and break and you always drop some meat.
That’s what she said.
She left the house, the door smacking against the wall on the way out.
Kelly’s phone rang.
“Hey…” her voice just quipped out quickly.
“KEL. HEY GIIIIIIRRRLL. I NEED YOU TO UMMM….” Some voices boomed in the back and Kelly heard one she recognized. “I NEED YOUR ASS DOWN AT MOLLY’S…” Monica laughed a distant laugh and brought her face back to the phone. “BITCH YOU COMING?”
Kelly was gonna ask why. Why, at 2:30 a.m. she had to head down to Molly Brown’s, easily the most uncomfortable social spot in all of the city. She knew it was futile. She hung up quickly.
“Can I add another Beef Burrito to my order?”
The sign for Molly Brown’s was just creeping out at the end of the street behind a Subway, and as Kelly drove closer the front of the building came into appearance. The M from Molly was flashing on and off, and if one caught it at just the right time they’d see “olly Brown’s” which sounds like a black’s only diner from the 50’s.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Or something…
Regardless, Kelly drove into the parking lot and narrowly missed a group of chubby black girls leaving early (which in and of itself, blew her mind). She parked towards the back right underneath the neon Heineken sign, and paced herself to the front of the club.
“Excuse me, I’m here to pick up a girlfriend?”
“Is it that drunk blonde who’s been vomiting all over the counters?” Kelly shied away awkwardly. Apparently the security is more than familiar with Monica.
Kelly nodded and the security behemoth slid out of the way.
She was immediately swamped by the uncomfortable familiarity of the previous night, and was at once distressed and frustrated at Monica bringing her back here.
She eyed the bar, her most common place, and spied Monica tossing her tits up upon the counter and waving her left hand in the air.
Raquel, noting Monica’s enthusiasm, walked over from the other side of the bar. The three girls met in the middle.
“Kelly WHATSSS UUUUPPP GIIIIRLLLL?” Monica let a nipple slip and Raquel grinned.
“I made her call you. She’s way TOO out of it tonight.”
“I”LL GET HER NO PROBLEM.” Raquel motioned her to the counter with the tips of her fingers.
“Come closer” she mouthed and Kelly listened. “Now you don’t have to scream.” Raquel smiled and pulled the strap of her outfit a little off to the side.
“Well yeah…” Kelly didn’t know what to say.
“HEY BITCHES IM GUNNA GO TO THE LITTLE LADEES ROOM.” Kelly and Raquel barely faltered their gaze from each other while Monica got off the counter and tripped away and around the corner.
“I have a taco in my car?” Kelly shrugged her shoulders and smiled warmly.
“A taco?”
“Yea it’s kinda mushy but oh so yummy.” Kelly’s smile widened and Raquel gave her a heartening look.
“HEY GIRL CAN I GET A DRINK OVER HERE?”
“FUCK OFF!” Raquel launched the insult across the bar and the girl tossed herself off the counter and walked out of site.
They leaned in closer. “How about we forget the tacos and you come over to my place?” Raquel’s stare heightened.
“Now?”
“I get off now.”
“Monica?”
“Drop her drunk ass off. I’ll write down the address.” Raquel reached into her pocket, pulled out a notepad and jotted down some numbers and words.
“Here. Now don’t take too long. She blew a kiss and spun to the back of the bar, just as Monica was stepping side to side meandering outside the bathroom- planting her chest down on the counter and begging for another drink.
Kelly made another stop for tacos.
An hour passed and Kelly had very little time to think over the situation. Monica was beyond any exemplified levels of obnoxious, bordering on downright criminal as she tossed her drink into the front seat of a car while at a red light, and vomited between the seats overtop the emergency brake of Kelly’s car.
After Monica was dropped off, Kelly only briefly hesitated, as heading over to an essential stranger’s house was a tad out of character. But she couldn’t resist those thin smooth lips, those glaring blue eyes, the hair- brown…long, whipped off to the side in an organized fashion and highly charming.
Kelly had very little reason to deny the highly charming.
Knock. Knock. The scent of something wild (strawberry mango and a little dead cat) protruded from the cracks in the door and Kelly winced. But as soon as Raquel opened the door she returned to a nice greeting posture and personality.
“Well hey.” Kelly looked past Raquel’s eyes and towards the back of the room. “Is that…”
“Don’t mind them. Come on in.” Raquel smothered Kelly’s hand and put it up to her face. “You’re so chilly sweetheart get inside get inside.”
There have been situations in life where your expectations were reasonably high. Kelly, with all logical conclusions, expected to get laid. Respectfully, it was the exact reason Raquel made Monica call her, and it was the exact timing of Raquel getting off.
The boot fits.
Those expectations were validated. But it is to be understood that some situations cannot be resolved with all expectations intact. Why was this situation dire? What drives the human mind?
It is indeed these questions which drive the curious nature of living.
Four babies in cribs (one on the ground) lined the left wall below an open windowpane. They were crying (except the one on the ground) and one was black.
A crying black baby. It was beyond foreign to Kelly.
“What’s up with the babies?”
“Oh let them be. Beatriz? BEATRIZ?” A stout Spanish woman came peeking around the wall of the kitchen and smiled nervously.
“HEYO HEYO Miss Roco. I am making lasagna for Yoooou.” She returned to the kitchen and Raquel walked over in her direction. I hovered by the door, until Beatriz walked out of the kitchen, grabbed her coat from the closet and gave me a smile on her way out.
“Thank YOU Miss Roco and have a wonderful evening.” The door closed behind us. Kelly let her
face hang open and she briefly winced.
I’m sorry that was a bit awkward. She watches the children, makes me food. “Raquel paused for
a moment and relaxed her face.” We’re going to head over here and pray.”
It was at that gracious mesmerizing point that the sweet grinning Raquel, her tender lips, her illuminating hair when the light from the overhanging bar lights hit it just right, and her exceptional stride with long legs, luxurious ass…her melted ocean beach eyes…all of it was a fraud.
“After some moments of meditation we’ll exercise. You look confused? Don’t worry, it won’t last long, I know what you’re here for. It’s ok. I wanna read your cards too. I read Tarot cards but I don’t need them to read you. You’re a very readable person, I can tell by the creases in your forehead all the feelings you feel. And don’t mind the scent. It’s supposed to suppress the negativity. I know I know, it sounds silly, but it’s all true. It was in a book…here. You should read it.”
Raquel hands a book from the shelf, small and blue, into the less than open hands of Kelly who frowned and only read the back half, half-assed and only continuing to frown further into unrestrained disappointment.
“What the fuck? I mean seriously?” Kelly sat imbedded into the couch and sulking her waist and legs straight parallel to the floor.
“I have the most fucked up headache now Kel why’d you call me over here?”
“Last night! Raquel! She’s fucking crazy…”
“Whoa girl wha’d she do?” Monica drifted slowly to the couch and planted her body beside Kelly.
“She had like babies and shit. Four of them all crying. Then we did like a prayer thing and she straight hands me this fucking book…” Kelly pointed to a tiny blue book in the corner below the tv laying comfortably on the ground. Monica, sat up, gripped it tightly and tossed it back to the floor.
Reinventing the Mind: One Orifice at a Time
“That’s so creepy. I’m sorry Kel.” Monica stepped towards the front door. “Look I gotta go, we can talk about it later.”
“Leaving already? Why?”
“I’m going out with Sammy. We’re gonna go shopping or whatever. I’d invite you but…”
“It’s shopping…” Kelly interrupted. “Isn’t he that surfer fag?”
“I can’t hang around with guys now?” Monica retorted.
“You can I just don’t see the point.”
“Gay guys have more girlfriends than any of those bitches at the club. They know all the girls.”
“You already know all the girls.”
“Oh fuck off Kel, I’ll catch ya later.” The door smacked shut leaving Kelly alone once again. She slid out of her reclination and stared out the window for a few minutes. She collapsed her hands over her face and thought.
Thought.
The day couldn’t be wasted. What to do? How to recover?
She snapped open her laptop and began cycling through pages, random shit, shit that ate up time.
The gears spun. She opened a site that has remained unopened for some time now. The screen popped up, she logged in. it took some time for Kelly to navigate the pages properly but she soon found out the fruits of her curiosity.
“Jesus Christ.” She said it out loud although no one was in the room, like the movies. She realized her silliness and covered her mouth in awe.
It was an eye-opening experience. Kelly spent the next many hours circulating through hundreds of pages of messages from men, women, and everything in between in astonishment of how much fucking and loving and hanging and hugging could possibly be obtained.
The loneliness seized. A well burst.
“And what do you do…Kelly?”
“Do?”
“Like for a job, for fun, for a hobby, you know…what makes you…YOU?” He smiled extravagantly, and for a gay woman, Kelly felt a little tickle of butterflies.
“Well I’m not working now. I’m sort of applying a lot. And I write, and I go out a lot.” That was a lie. Kelly never goes out.
“You go out a lot huh?” Charlie tipped his chair back a bit and took a quick glance along the dining hall. He was very tall, surprisingly tall for Kelly’s expectations (expect anything) and had this chilling demeanor. Not a haunted house and ghosts and witches demeanor (like he prayed and held babies hostage to milk their blood or anything) but a demeanor worthy of holding close- his chill simply demanded body heat.
“So what made you respond to me and not all the other guys?”
“There weren’t any other guys.”
Charlie laughed. “No other guys? You’re an intensely attractive woman, and you expect m to believe I’m the online sane one trying to you date online?”
“It’s the green eyes.” Kelly smirked.
“So green. And your outfit…simply luminous.”
“That’s a big word, you sure you can handle it.” Kelly flirted.
“I hope so. But you seem manageable enough. Not very tall and all…”
Kelly crossed her arms. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Wouldn’t dare.” Charlie grinned and took a sip of water. Kelly smirked back and kept her gaze into his.
“You know, I heard about you before.”
Kelly winced. “Go on.”
“I heard you…” he hesitated. “I heard you play guitar?”
“Do I now?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen you before.”
“Don’t tell me…” Kelly planted her hands over her face, again, and blushed.
“that café on 11th. I forget the name…”
“It’s a Pita Pit.”
“Oh. They do music there?”
“When I ask nicely.” She smiled. “That’s amazing you recognize me from that.”
Charlie blushed himself. Two plates dropped onto their table miraculously and stunned Kelly who was so involved in the discussion she failed to notice their presence until Charlie pointed it out (kindly of course).
First impressions are rather polarizing. In many instances, they can determine your entire judgment of a person’s character. Kelly was never one to relish her ability to read people, but it was at this instance that she inherently doubted the capabilities of understanding the human motivational drive. What was causing this man to act so kind? What drives him at this table, in this discussion, taunting the immobilized heart of our young friend Kelly?
A woman, looking a bit younger than Kelly and arguably less attractive (her face creased in all the wrong places) tossed a cup of water in Charlie’s face.
“You MOTHER FUCKER!” the staff of the restaurant scurried to the back and returned almost immediately to the floor.
“You think you can get AWAY with that SHIT you…” she stopped herself. “Don’t listen to this FUCK-UP, he’s got a kid at home and left her. Cheated on me…” she pursed her lips and dropped her purse. “Didn’t the fucking judge tell you to skip TOWN or something?”
Voices disturbed the exchange. “MA’AM. MA’AM. YOU MUST LEAVE.” Another redcoat trampled out to the floor and touched the woman on the shoulder.
“I’m LEAVING don’t TOUCH ME.” Her voice seemed to echo and the woman gave a quick spat in Charlie’s face and left his presence.
“Is she gone?” Charlie wiped his face down with a towel and returned his gaze to Kelly. She sat stunned, taken aback by the sudden outburst of resentment. What a tease this whole situation was. The times Kelly tried to succeed in the game of social dynamics and was disrupted by acts outside her control. She was on the verge of a redefinition of character. Yet, tossed asunder by the trivial nature of the human drive- she finds herself distant…asking questions…and asking them again.
For once, life has become grossly unfocused.
Men? Women?
Success? Excitement?
Money?
Love?
With such characters like the man who took her to dinner, who had a history of trouble and betrayal…Raquel, the sweet bartender, who turns her drive into an outlet of bizarre practices and collect-a-thons of children- her tense friend Monica, exploring the experimental nature of life while ignoring time and loyalty.
They all had a drive, and yet they were oh-so flawed.
Her drive…?
What drove to Kelly to continue on?
“So where were we?” Charlie grinned and placed the towel on the table.
Kelly sat on the patio nearly expecting Monica to come pulling on up with a whole bus full of woman (to make her smile of course).
It was a silly dream. Her mind was far from such outrageous expectations. She nodded her head off to the side, then to the other, and rocked the chair back and forth. It was very reminiscent of the actions of a grandmother, waiting for something to happen, expecting nothing to happen- waiting for the right one to trample on up and showcase his or her everlasting devotion and love.
She was getting off track. Grandma’s had plenty of time to find love. Kelly, in all her confusion and bewildered expectations and naivety still had plenty of time to find that one she chooses to love.
Kelly was spent. Exhausted. Her mind weak from all the thinking. Thinking of…
Thinking of how she can be satisfied. Thinking the time is ticking and Grandma is waiting just around the corner of another few decades.
Kelly kissed her palm and crossed her arms, drifting into sleep. Even the ring from the phone inside, Monica calling from the bar, wasn’t enough to wake Kelly from a driving slumber of rehabilitation.
Tomorrow will come again. Maybe love will come as well.
