"She's So Dull"

Bastards.

Soul-sucking, social leeching, parasitic, stodgy, pretentious, pathetic, bitchy, snobby, pompous, short-dicked, vain bastards!

She tried being civil and to smile and play the role of hostess that had been assigned to her by Seth, that overbearing snot, but these people, his “friends”, were the most un-enjoyable form of torture she had ever felt. Being bludgeoned in the ribs with a lead pipe or being punched in the gut repeatedly with brass knuckles doesn’t even hold a candle to this kind of pain.

She made the gravest mistake when she allowed herself to be lured into a conversation with a club of the most gossipy cunts she had ever met. They did nothing but stand around, just holding, never sipping their glasses of gin(ger ale), yakking in their aggravatingly shrill voices about those rinky-dink gifts their boyfriends got them for “X-mas” (Yes, they actually used that word) and what they’re doing for the New Year and some of their Resolutions, all of which concerned weight loss. A bunch of Barbies with their toothpick legs and A cupped breasts, going on about how “fat” they are.

Dopey bitches! The whole lot of ‘em!

She felt like going over the chattiest one’s, the supposed ringleader’s (as it were), cute heart shaped face with the heel of her stiletto. She was the wretched little cunt-rag that commented on how “lovely” her dress was only to chuckle and look knowingly with her friends as if she was telepathically converting her snide joke to each of them. They caught on to her on cue with their condescending, plastic, cherry mouthed smiles. She wanted to punch that smug smirk until it frowned with broken teeth and blood, she hadn’t held that much of a soft space in her heart for little chickadees like her since high school, but instead she just gave her a “thank you” she didn’t mean.

She didn’t give a good fuck what this twat thought about her style. She liked this dress, with it’s satin corseted bodice and ruffled skirt, matching knee-highs and aforementioned stilettos with the silky ribbons you tie in a bow.

Seth also had a problem with her attire to her confusion. She had asked his opinion on rather it was this dress or a less clingy, cottony peasant smock-like one and he picked this one, even told her what shoes should match with it like she was a little kid that needed help in dressing herself. She put it on and thought, for once, Seth wasn’t that bad of a guy for choosing it but the moment he saw her in it, he starting fuming about how whorish she looked, how cheap.

She didn’t look cheap, not to herself. She had seen cheap and this wasn’t it. She reminded herself of a very beautiful woman she had seen once in an advertisement for Cicero cigarettes in some magazine. She felt like a pinup.

Fuck that two-faced slut; she was the belle of this goddamned ball, the prettiest pussy of this fuckin’ party, in her own mind, so fuck that bitch brutally with a tire iron.

Him, too.

DICKLICKER!

It was her apartment after all. Hell, she could have come out in a teddy or maybe even less if she felt like it and parade around and she should have, these assholes would just die without something to talk about. Their precious little life’s purpose (or lack thereof) would diminish and when they realized how truly and utterly pathetic they were (She would cherish that day!); they would kill themselves in such a drastically dramatic fashion, sacrificing their lives just to give other people something to talk about.

How tragic, poor you. Cry me a river until you drown.

Why she gave Seth the ok to hold this socialite shin-dig in the first place, she forgets. Sex had to be involved in there somewhere and for some reason this Christian young man was an awfully good lay. Isn’t that a little ironic, kind of an oxymoron? Pious people, and he claimed to be one, are supposed to be against pre-martial coitus but was the opposite (to some extent) and was exceptional at “doing it”, obviously from years of experience.

Did accepting sex as a bribe make her a whore? Maybe, possibly, and probably but so what? She wasn’t exactly a cockaholic but she wouldn’t turn it away if it was offered by the right person. It’s like “Well, what the hell, why not.”

He also paid half of the rent, and even though he used the loft as more of a lodge for the night, he was entitled something. She didn’t appreciate him taking down her pictures of friends and artwork to put up some of that “artsy-fartsy” crap. She appreciates a good work of art just as well as the next person, but she could not believe he did not see the beauty in the very tasteful (and some maybe not so tasteful) charcoal nudes she had hung here and over there. The man obviously had no eye for a charming wall adornment. His mind is always in the box and never wants to expand it.

He also had the bravado to banish Minino, that "filth-ridden monster", off to the bedroom closet. She was ok with keeping him in the bedroom, but the closet was a bit much. Too much. But then, Seth was never too much in love with her feline friend to begin with. He put him in there, but she went in after he busied himself with refreshments and such and hid him under the bed in his blanket.

Again she wondered who that DICKLICKER thought he was. She also realized that she cut him a lot of slack for the shit he does but she’ll catch hell if she even thinks a naughty thought in the other room or watches television a little too loud (for his standards) during some times of the day.

Asshole.
All of them are.
They should all get crotch rot and die.
Hope they do.

Bastards.

She sat on the couch, nursing some drink she didn’t know the name of, but it tastes really good. Sugary but not too saccharine, like a Starburst or some piece of fruity candy.

She was admiring some very young man from across the room. Well-groomed, appeared athletic, fine peach fuzz growing in a patch on his chin, handsome though very boyish, apple-cheeked. Must send the girls into a panic. Seemed uncomfortable and awkward standing there in that very nice suit he was (more than likely) made to wear. She’s drawn to him for some reason. She doesn’t dig the younger looking guys but this one attracts her in a familiar sort of way. Something reminiscent about him.

She had to meet him.

She doesn’t quite remember how it happened, but she managed to slink over and engage in some conservation. He did most of the talking and she just added a reply whenever she felt he needed one. After their conservation was getting more comfortable he introduced himself as Adrian and apologized for not doing it beforehand. She introduced herself as “Ursula”.

Apparently the cherub was still in high school, four-point-oh student. Seventeen years old.

Mmm, Jailbait. Maybe the evening wouldn’t turn out to be such a drag after all…

He talked more and more of this and that and she pretending to pay attention to his droning while wondering if he was still a virgin and if he had a girlfriend. She would’ve asked, about the girlfriend thing, but she didn’t care that much. He didn’t seem that confident, it’s like he had rehearsed his whole spiel and she didn’t want to interrupt him to throw him off.

She thought a drink might calm his nerves and offered him one.

“Thank you, but no. It’s got alcohol in it.”

“It’s a party.”

He blinked, dumbfounded.

“I’m not old enough to drink.”

She frowned. What decade did this kid come from?

“Have at least one.”

He looked conflicted and she continued to coax him. He started looking around, she assumed to make sure his parents or guardian wasn’t in the vicinity. He’s seventeen, he shouldn’t be so innocent.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Really?”

“No.” She was being sarcastic of course, but he looks disheartened.

She sighed. Oh Christ, he must be in Seth’s bloodline somewhere. Poor boy.

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh.” He smiled sheepishly as she handed him a glass with a small amount of rum.

“Cheers.” She clinked his glass with her and they drank. He took a cautious sip, liked it, and finished it in one swallow. It burned his chest severely and then less severely when it reached his belly. His eyes watered and he coughed a few times to loosen the harshness still stuck in his throat. He breathed heavily when the coughing stopped.

“Are you all right?” She was a little concerned, she didn’t think he would try to down it all, at least not on the first one.

“I feel great! Wow!” He wiped at his eyes with a bright smile.

She hid her smile with her tipped up glass and wondered how many years you get for the corruption of a minor.