open to the kitchen on the left.
I glance at the two other ladies already
there and note their wine glasses are filled with a dark liquid.
Heather introduces us to the two women, one is Carla’s sister,
Julie, and the other is a woman Carla works with named Bekki.
Heather informs us they’re all drinking sangria and moves to the
kitchen to get us glasses, too.
Heather’s apartment is decorated with
streamers, pink and black balloons, and a few small zebra accents.
I spy other gift totes on the dining room table and deposit mine
there. It’s a little after nine and I’m sure the birthday girl will
be arriving soon. Despite wearing shoes I normally wouldn’t pick,
I’m feeling good about tonight. A girls night is just what I need
to get out of my current routine.
By ten-thirty we’re all a little buzzed and laughing
so hard a few of us are wiping tears away. Julie brought a game
called “Who’s the Biggest Pervert?” And I’m not sure if I should be
appalled or proud that I’m the biggest pervert in the group so far.
Heather and Carla toasted me twice, forcing all of us to drink even
more of the brandy infused wine laced with fruit. It goes great
with the chocolate cupcakes Heather made, so none of us complained.
Then again, doesn’t everything go with chocolate?
I’m feeling no pain when Carla informs us
it’s time to take the party on the road. Festooned with tacky pink
sashes that say Girls Night Out, wearing pink Mardi-gras beads and
the candy penis necklaces, and each carrying our glow in the dark
straws in our purse, we’re ready to paint the town. I’m glad
there’s no mirror near the elevators or I’d probably have second
thoughts about being seen in public wearing this stuff.
“Oh, wait!” Julie shouts. “I have something
fun for everyone to take home.” She wiggles her eyebrows
suggestively. “Might stir up a little ‘magic.’ You never know.” She
reaches into her purse while we enter the elevator and pulls out a
handful of tiny plastic baggies. “Here,” she says while
distributing one to each of us.
Heather opens hers first. “Are these dice?
The shape is odd. What are these little pictures?” She gasps in
understanding.
I look to mine and start laughing. “No way.
Did you get us dirty gamer dice? These have pictures of people
having sex in different positions on each side.”
Carla squeals in delight. “So cool! I can’t
wait to try this later with Andy.”
Conversation and comments swirl over each
other as everyone checks out their die.
“Hey,” Bekki says as we leave the elevator.
“I got a bum one. There’s two spots on here with the guy getting
head. Talk about unfair.”
“Lemme see,” says Gemma while she
frantically searches her die, too. “Dammit. Mine is the same
way.”
We spill into the night, giggling like a
pack of randy college girls. Julie’s laughing so hard it takes her
a second to respond. “Sorry, guys. Should have mentioned I think
these things were designed by men. All of them have the two blow
job sides.”
A man in his thirties wandering by us on the
sidewalk looks up at her words, checks out the lot of us from head
to toe, and smiles bright. We all laugh again.
“Seems unfair,” Heather says between gasps
of laughter. “Maybe we should put white-out on one of them and
insert a question mark… like lover’s choice?”
I slip my die in my purse, glad again I came
to Carla’s party. She loved all the gag gifts and seems to be
having as much fun as the rest of us.
We finally arrive at one of our favorite
bars, The Parlor, located in mid-town, and teeter in on our high
heels. There are two bars upon entering, one to the right and one
on the left. The left one is more reserved and smaller, more of a
place patrons wait to be seated in the back for dinner. And there’s
a downstairs, too. It’s all bar and empty floor space.
Some weekends they have a band, or a DJ
plays for dancing. We saunter into the bar on the right,
I glance at the two other ladies already
there and note their wine glasses are filled with a dark liquid.
Heather introduces us to the two women, one is Carla’s sister,
Julie, and the other is a woman Carla works with named Bekki.
Heather informs us they’re all drinking sangria and moves to the
kitchen to get us glasses, too.
Heather’s apartment is decorated with
streamers, pink and black balloons, and a few small zebra accents.
I spy other gift totes on the dining room table and deposit mine
there. It’s a little after nine and I’m sure the birthday girl will
be arriving soon. Despite wearing shoes I normally wouldn’t pick,
I’m feeling good about tonight. A girls night is just what I need
to get out of my current routine.
By ten-thirty we’re all a little buzzed and laughing
so hard a few of us are wiping tears away. Julie brought a game
called “Who’s the Biggest Pervert?” And I’m not sure if I should be
appalled or proud that I’m the biggest pervert in the group so far.
Heather and Carla toasted me twice, forcing all of us to drink even
more of the brandy infused wine laced with fruit. It goes great
with the chocolate cupcakes Heather made, so none of us complained.
Then again, doesn’t everything go with chocolate?
I’m feeling no pain when Carla informs us
it’s time to take the party on the road. Festooned with tacky pink
sashes that say Girls Night Out, wearing pink Mardi-gras beads and
the candy penis necklaces, and each carrying our glow in the dark
straws in our purse, we’re ready to paint the town. I’m glad
there’s no mirror near the elevators or I’d probably have second
thoughts about being seen in public wearing this stuff.
“Oh, wait!” Julie shouts. “I have something
fun for everyone to take home.” She wiggles her eyebrows
suggestively. “Might stir up a little ‘magic.’ You never know.” She
reaches into her purse while we enter the elevator and pulls out a
handful of tiny plastic baggies. “Here,” she says while
distributing one to each of us.
Heather opens hers first. “Are these dice?
The shape is odd. What are these little pictures?” She gasps in
understanding.
I look to mine and start laughing. “No way.
Did you get us dirty gamer dice? These have pictures of people
having sex in different positions on each side.”
Carla squeals in delight. “So cool! I can’t
wait to try this later with Andy.”
Conversation and comments swirl over each
other as everyone checks out their die.
“Hey,” Bekki says as we leave the elevator.
“I got a bum one. There’s two spots on here with the guy getting
head. Talk about unfair.”
“Lemme see,” says Gemma while she
frantically searches her die, too. “Dammit. Mine is the same
way.”
We spill into the night, giggling like a
pack of randy college girls. Julie’s laughing so hard it takes her
a second to respond. “Sorry, guys. Should have mentioned I think
these things were designed by men. All of them have the two blow
job sides.”
A man in his thirties wandering by us on the
sidewalk looks up at her words, checks out the lot of us from head
to toe, and smiles bright. We all laugh again.
“Seems unfair,” Heather says between gasps
of laughter. “Maybe we should put white-out on one of them and
insert a question mark… like lover’s choice?”
I slip my die in my purse, glad again I came
to Carla’s party. She loved all the gag gifts and seems to be
having as much fun as the rest of us.
We finally arrive at one of our favorite
bars, The Parlor, located in mid-town, and teeter in on our high
heels. There are two bars upon entering, one to the right and one
on the left. The left one is more reserved and smaller, more of a
place patrons wait to be seated in the back for dinner. And there’s
a downstairs, too. It’s all bar and empty floor space.
Some weekends they have a band, or a DJ
plays for dancing. We saunter into the bar on the right,
Similar Books
