Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
“Nope. I would have thought … well, let’s just say you guys were getting handsy at the Grand Opening of Burrata and I didn’t want to pry.”
I snort.
“Girlfriend, we were more than handsy. I mean, I let him hit it! At your restaurant’s grand opening, I gave it up to that loser beside a dumpster outside. What girl does that? The garbage reeked to high heaven, and I swear, I was looking at a pile of steaming dog shit while I took it up the ass. But the man hasn’t even attempted to communicate with me since. Ugh. Where did I go wrong?”
Maggie’s eyes go wide.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” She leans even closer to her screen so that her features take on a fishbowl appearance. “Back up for a second, because I feel as if we’ve skipped a few necessary chapters! What dumpster? I mean, I saw you go outside with Randy during the party, but I thought all the dumpsters were out front, near the street. That’s weird.”
I sigh because clearly, my friend is more concerned about her beloved restaurant than my sex life. It’s okay though because everyone has priorities, and Mags has put her heart and soul into her business. I don’t blame her with being concerned.
“No, it’s fine,” I say. “It doesn't matter where the dumpsters were, but the thing is that Randy hasn’t called me since. It’s been crickets, and I guess I’m disappointed because I know what we did wasn’t exactly classy, but still. I deserve some acknowledgment, right? I mean, I basically became a dumpster diva diver for him.”
Maggie covers her mouth with her hand and tries to keep a straight face, but I can still hear her stifled giggles. I pout as she shakes her head.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s just—it’s just that this is so…I don’t even have the right words. You do though. Dumpster diva diver? Hysterical, girlfriend.” But then she manages to get her giggles under control and turns to me. “Seriously Sammie, I think you’re better off without Randy.”
That makes me pause.
“What do you mean?” I ask. “You’re not just trying to make me feel better are you?”
She shakes her head.
“No, I’m just saying you’re better off because Ed’s brother a total playboy. You know that he was Mr. January from last year’s firefighter calendar, and since then, girls have been sprouting out of his ears. From what Ed tells me, it’s been like that since Randy was fifteen, actually,” she adds. “It’s just become even worse. It’s as if a dam burst ever since the calendar hit.”
I sigh.
“Well, that sucks for me. I mean, I thought that I went the extra mile. It wasn’t just looking at the pile of steaming dog shit, Mags. I think I stepped in it while we were doing it. Randy was going pretty hard, and I was rocking back and forth and… well, you know.”
Sam clucks and shakes her head.
“I do know, even if the experience is starting to sound totally gross. I mean, why didn’t you just get into the backseat of your car or something? Why risk it in such a filthy place?”
I fix her a look.
“It didn’t occur to us because we were that desperate to be together.”
Mags giggles again and holds up a hand.
“Okay, okay, I got it. Point made. But I promise that one day your prince will come because if it happened for me, it’ll happen for you.” I’m about to protest, but then Mags changes the subject. “Well, even if dating is a shitshow, at least school is going well, right?” she asks. “How are your classes? You were always so smart.”
I sigh. I’m currently attending Cedar Toms Community College, and so far, it’s been dreadful. I merely pout and shrug lifelessly.
“To be honest, it’s kind of blah. I’m feel like I’m taking a bunch of random classes that lead to nowhere. They’re so scattered, from Introductory Sociology, to English Lit 101, to Rocks for Jocks. I mean, I should throw in underwater basket weaving just for the heck of it at this point.”
Maggie smiles sympathetically as I pretend to slit my own throat.
“Don’t worry about it, Sam. You’ll figure things out as some point. You’re a smart girl, and you always land on your feet.”
“Then make Mr. January call me!” I whine pathetically. “Randy is your brother in law, after all.”
But Mags is firm as she jiggles Dahlia in her lap.
“Nope. Like I said, girlfriend, I think you’re better off without that man. He’s just swimming in women, and I don’t think even a supermodel could get him to settle down. Seriously, you dodged a bullet. Trust me on this.”
I give up.
“Okay, okay, point taken. I’ll have to work on Mr. March then. Or Mr. April, May, June, or heck, any month will do.”
“That’s the spirit,” my friend giggles. “Okay, the baby’s starting to get hungry, so I’ve got to give her the boob, but talk later, okay?”