That Something

“It’s missing something,” Samantha said as she drew the spoon away from her lips and stirred the pot again.

Petra frowned at her. “Did you remember the eye of newt?”

“Of course! It’s the main ingredient.”

“How about the toad toes?”

Samantha snorted. “They were a pain in the ass. Picking all those tiny nails off?”

“You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Normally not. But the little buggers had been to the salon. I didn’t want nail polish in the brew.”

Petra pointed her own sharply filed nail at her friend and winked. “Good thinking.”

“What else might I be missing?”

“No clue. This is what you get for not writing down the recipe when Zelda was still alive.”

“That’s it! She always used to cry a tear into it. What are we going to do?”

Petra squinted. “I think I can squeeze a tear out.”

“No!” Samantha cried. “Zelda was a virgin. That’s the whole purpose behind this concoction. To help us become born-again virgins, so we can experience having our cherries popped again.”

“Right. So who do we know who’s a virgin. Oh, I know! That Jimmie brat down the street. I’d like to make him cry for digging my asparagus up last spring.”

“Let’s go get him!”

***
Three months later…

“I think all we’re missing is the last ingredient,” Samantha said as she drew the spoon away from her lips and stirred the pot again.

“Excellent. Little Suzie’s just waking up.”

“Can’t wait to get rid of this penis.”

“Nope,” Petra said, scratching her balls. “Me neither.”

Advertisements

It’s So Gary’s Fault

“However good I am depends on who’s around me. I get my grounded energy off people, and it’s so, so fantastic, you know? Like I was saying to Gary-”

“Ugh! Don’t talk to me about Gary. He’s such a douche.”

“Gary? You mean Gary, Gary? He’s not a douche.”

“Like hell he is. Did you see what he did to Mike’s car?”

“I don’t believe this. You really think Gary did that to Mike’s car? I am getting such bad grounded energy off you right now. You’re pulling me down to your level. Stop it.”

“It’s not me. It’s Gary for Chrissakes!”

“That’s it, I’m outta here. Move over, I’m getting off the bus right now.”

“No, wait. I’ve gotta talk to you about Mike’s car. Your dad’s a mechanic, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, could you, like, ask him if Mike could bring it in for some body work?”

“What did you just say? Body work? My dad’s a mechanic. A me-chan-ic. He fixes engines and stuff, not bodies.”

“That’s a no then?”

“That’s a no then? That’s a no then? Oh my God, now you’re making me stupid too. Let me off right now.”

“Fine! Take your stupid ‘grounded energy’ and go away! You were stupid before I met you, bitch!”

“Ugh!”

#SoCS – Volunteer

I should never have volunteered to drive you home. It would have cost me less to throw you in a cab than to have to clean the upholstery of my car, but then who would have carried you into the house? I’d hate to think the cab driver might have just dumped you out in your driveway and left you there to freeze, or worse, drown in your own vomit.

I threw my back out, you know. Carrying you up the stairs at the front of your house to get you inside. Why the hell do you live on the second floor? For God sakes, you could have at least had the decency to move into a ground floor apartment. And then there was Rex.

You told me your dog was friendly. Yeah, right. So why have I been sitting in the emergency room for three hours, again, for the second time in the last three days? Oh right. You didn’t know he’d somehow contracted rabies. Sure thing.

If that wasn’t bad enough, I still have a huge lump on my head from the cast iron frying pan your ex-wife hit me with, when she found out I let you get drunk in the first place. I know, I know. I shouldn’t have told her. But how was I to know your last words to her were, “Of course I’m going to AA meetings”?

I did think you had a lot of nerve to invite me out for a beer to make up for it all. And there you are texting me again…

I nede a rid hoame. At teh bar.

Hehe. Go fuck yourself.

socsbadge2016-17

This post was written in stream of consciousness and left unedited. If you’d like to participate in Stream of Consciousness Saturday, just click the link and see how! https://lindaghill.com/2016/10/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-2216/

#SoCS – Panic

I wanted to go. I was ready to go, to cut the cord between me and my family. Scholarship in hand, I stood with my mom, dad, and baby sister in the cool autumn breeze at the bus station. It was going to be my first time away from them apart from the occasional sleep-over at my best friend, Sharon’s house. At least I had Sharon. She was already on the bus. She knew to give us some space to say good-bye.

I hugged them each in turn and pasted a happy smile on my face. Dad might have bought it, but my mom and sis weren’t fooled. I could tell by their own fake happy faces.

It wasn’t until the bus started moving that the panic began. What if I never saw them again? What if I wasn’t happy at college, if I hated my professors, my courses… my life? I started to cry, but then Sharon put her hand over mine on the glass.

“It’ll be okay,” she assured me. “Just like when we were having sleep-overs.”

She smiled a real smile and I relaxed. Only then did another thought occur to me.

“What if we’re not in the same dorm room? Or the same dorm even? How will I survive without you?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she whispered.

We both cried all the rest of the hundred miles to college.

socsbadge2016-17

This horribly bleak Stream of Consciousness Saturday post (which is totally unedited) was brought to you by the prompt here: https://lindaghill.com/2016/09/23/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-2416/
and The Daily Post prompt here: Panic