Monday, November 7, 2011

Dottie O Dottie

It’s time for Two Broke Girls on the old people network.  Why is someone knocking at my door?
“Baby!” She comes in and wraps her meaty arms around my waist.  An ex.  Sort of.  Hasn’t been seen in months but here she is.
“Hi.” I peel her off me.  Look into her face.  No bones protruding.  Skin is all the same color.  No eye bags.  Someone is looking awful clean.
She pushes me back into my apartment just enough so she can use her left combat boot to shut the door behind.
“What’s going on baby.”  We join each other on the couch.  “Oh shit, I love this show.”  She grabs the remote, turns up the TV, and leans in against me.  He in my lap.  And we sit this way, quietly, and watch the entire episode in silence.  Max is up to some hijinx at the diner.  Spills some soup on a customer.  Hilarity ensues.  Quite odd.  The silence in here.  Not the show.  The last time I remember Dottie being this quiet was when she went unconscious when she ran into the facing of the bedroom door.  Bad depth perception.  Her and all the Asian driver’s out there.
“So,” she says sitting up as the credits roll, “you miss me?”
“Sure,” I say.  Don’t give away too much of my hand until Dottie’s motives are revealed.  Weakness means she can still eat me alive.  Which means there is no way she is going to give up a blow job before we fuck.  Cause we most definitely are going to fuck.  Dottie might be a lot of things.  Shit, this visit is almost certainly to do with needing a favor, but Dottie is respectful enough to give me some gorilla style love making before she tries to reach her hand in my pocket.  Take what’s left of my money.
“I’ve missed you,” she kisses me softly on the lips.  “It’s been too long.  Why haven’t you come around?”  She presses her lips back to my face.
“I don’t know where you around is.”
“You’re silly,” she smiles at me.  Nibbles my ear.  Then, with ninja like precision, has my pants undone and her hand inside before my dick can react.  Still just flaccid.  Hiding somewhere in the depths of my boxers.  All turns around the moment Dottie’s skin makes contact.  In hiding to hard as a rock.  She is sucking in an instant but only long enough to give herself some lube.  She jumps on top.  Grabs me by the back of the neck, and goes to work. 
Work is over in an instant.  Not my fault.  It has been since Dottie last visited that I even had a female inside these dingy white walls.   Except my mom.  Once.  Looking for some money.  Seems bingo had tapped her dry that month.  It was worth the cash just to see the look on her face as she had to pretend to still care that I came from inside her.  “I love you” from her mouth seemed as far fetched as “God is good” coming from mine. 
“Are you hungry?”  Dottie cleans me up then disappears into the kitchen.  “Do you think these eggs are still good?”
I peek my head around the kitchen corner.  Dottie digging pans from the cabinets.  Making some after sex food concoction that is sure to taste like shit.  But be awfully thoughtful.
There is most silence again as the food is prepared.  Except the brief, but satisfying second round, where I took control.  Knocked everything off the counter trying to find the perfect spot for Dottie’s ass.  And for our puzzle pieces to fit together without fire shooting up my calves from the strain.
“You make me feel so good,” Dottie stares at me while I eat.  Usually this would make it hard to ditch half my plate in the trash but today, the meal taste pretty decent.
“Let’s run away together.”  The demand.  The offer accompanies desert.  Little Debbies brownie (I’m a simple man.  I do not need exquisite for my sweets).  
“Yeah right, you funding this excursion.”
Dottie fetches her purse and sits down at the table with me.  She pulls out a stack of lottery cards.  And two coins.  “You feeling lucky?”
Well, no.  At least I wasn’t when she first walked in the door but now, after a meal that makes me feel like I need a nap, maybe I am feeling lucky.  I take a quarter and start to scratching.  There are twenty tickets total.  Weekly Grand.  Lucky 7.  The usual.  Nothing.   Nothing.  Nothing until…
“I won!”  I celebrate.  I pause.  “I mean, we won.”   Dottie takes the cue and begins to dance with me.  Around the table.  Around the kitchen. 
“How much?” 
I stop twirling Dottie.  Review the ticket.  “Oh snaps,” excitement takes my vernacular to weird places, “ten thousand dollars.”  We restart our dance.  It leads to the bedroom where we dance like one would do in the bedroom.  And moan.
“You ready to go get your winnings?”  Dottie has re-dressed while in the bathroom.  I’m still trying to clean myself off.
“Sure.”
  Always a line.  If government is involved there is no way around it.  Put me behind the counter and give me a bonus for keeping the line under 30 minutes and things would run so much more smoothly.  But, I would assume the same could be said for the run down mothers and house ladies working behind the counter at the state office.  Give a little encouragement and people will die for you.  Well, your money but that’s still something.
“I’m not feeling too good.”
“What do you mean lovely?”  I turn to Dottie.  She gives me the long eyes of agony.  “Well, shit we are almost up to the front.”
“I trust you.  Just, if you get done before I get back,” she says as she hustles away, hand over her mouth trying to hold her insides at bay, “don’t leave just wait for me.”
She disappears into the bathroom.  That seems like an awful strange thing to say.  Right now.  What, does she think I would cash out like that.  If I wanted to get rid of her, all I’d have to do is say. 
“Next.”
A blue trench coat hides an old man inside.  He steps up.
“Next.”
Another worker has stepped to the counter.  Guess I’m doing this one alone.
“I believe we won.”  I hand over the winning ticket.  Winning the lottery.  Always dreamed but never thought this kind of “thing is real.”
She looks up at me as the last three words come out of my mouth.  Instead of just hiding inside my mind.
“I mean, this is crazy that I actually won.”  She looks back down at her computer.  Begins to bang away.  “It’s not millions but you have no idea how this will help me.”
The employee, her name tag says Demona, spins her chair away from me.  Takes my ticket and heads into the back.  Maybe I get a little celebration balloon or some sort of congratulations from a middle manager.  Like the restaurant manager that hands me my coupon for a free dessert on my next visit.  I lean my elbow on the counter.  Look back over the growing wait line.  I shrug.
“Winning.”  Is all I can think to say. 
My attention returns to the inner workings of the government facility.  Demona exits a room from the back.  Steps aside.  Gives room for a man in a dark suit who power walks out a side door.  Walks around from behind out front.  Finds himself leaning in.  Talking to the security guard sitting out on a bench in the lobby.  They both look towards the line.  The security guard pulls a walkie from his hip and begins to say something to someone on the other end.  I wish they would just hurry up and  give me my money and deal with this situation later.  And how long is Dottie going to be in the bathroom?
Dottie meets the two men at the employee door.  Let’s everyone in the back.  All three in lock step make a bee line towards me.
“Sir, can you step over here and come with me?”
“How was I suppose to know it was fake?  I didn’t do it.  If you will just ask my girlfriend, she will tell you.  She is in the bathroom.”
“Sir, there is no one in the women’s bathroom,” Demona says to me, “Do you think maybe she went into the men’s?”
Everyone laughs without me.  I seem to be on the outside of what is going on.  The laughing stops. 
“You know what this means don’t you sir?”
I do.  Certainly not the first time I’ve been down this road with Dottie.  The time I caught a drunk driving charge while you she was behind the wheel as we clipped half a neighborhood worth of mailboxes.  Getting detained before a Cowboys game even kicked off.  Locked up in the stadium’s holding tank. 

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