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The Coffee Shop
by jxl at 9/2/2008 12:10:20 PM
I was enjoying the forums but they've placed a limit on how many a new member can answer in one day. What's the point of reading them if I can't reply right?
So I decided to come to the blogs and post something here but I don't feel like writing at the moment so I'll just post a short story written a while back for a "flash fiction" contest i entered but didn't win. Feel free to let me know what you think.
I'm not sure if this is the final version or not so please don't get hung up on typos.
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I woke up thinking everything that happened last night was a dream but it wasn’t. I saw the proof on the floor, all those spent rubbers. Damn, there were a lot of them. One, two, three… I’m picking them up from my messy room. Well it wasn’t messy before we got here but now it’s a wreck; a wreck full of memories. I have to call Crazy. Where’s my cell phone. I just know this girl didn’t steal my … oh there it is. I hate when Crazy just lets her phone ring, I know she’s looking at it teasing me.
“Hee-e-e-e—lll-l-ll-oooo, X, call me back I’m having sex.”
“Why do you always pick up the phone when you’re having sex?”
“Because I like everyone calling to know that I’m having sex.”
“Hello, Hello?” She already hung up. I called back; knowing she would pick up again.
“You like listening to me having sex, don’t you?”
“As soon as you’re done I need to see you.”
Again she hangs up without saying a word. We both always do that, so often that I do it to other friends and they get offended. I hate having to explain that NO, I was not hanging up to be an a**hole, but because the conversation was over with.
Hours later and still no words from --- “Crazy,” I said picking up my phone, “it’s about time, where are you?”
“I’m downstairs, come on down and smoke the rest of this j with me.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“What took you so long to come down Xander?
“Couldn’t find my keys.”
“So what’s so important,” Crazy asked as she hands me the j.
“Oh man, I have to tell you about this girl from last night…” but she cuts me off with, “Oh no not before I tell you about the girl the just left my place.”
“Oh no, I’m first. This is too much to keep in I can’t anymore.
“Oh come on don’t be a f*g let me go first,” Crazy says, annoyed.
“You’re the only lesbian that I know used the word f*g so much.”
“How about I’m the only lesbian you know, and besides I don’t mean it how it sounds. Okay, f**k it go head you’re first.”
“So I met her at the coffee shop.”
“The coffee shop? That’s where I met…”
“Crazy let me tell my story,” I plead with her.
“Oh I’m sorry but damn I so want to tell you my story too, my p*ssy is still twitching from...”
“CRAZY!!! Shut up,” I scream.
“Ok, you go ahead.”
“Alright so skip the boring part, we’re back at my house and we smoke and drink a little. And we’re high as hell doing tequila shots on each other’s bodies. And the clothes start coming off you know. I mean you know how I like petite girls, this girl fit right in. She had this cute design above her vagina, small breasts, a nice butt, and…”
She cuts me off again, “why don’t you just say p*ssy, tits and ass?”
“Because you told me last week I curse too much.”
“Yeah but when you say vagina, breast, and butt you sound so gay-ish.”
“What’s with you and this gay thing lately?? What do you mean I sound gay?”
“I don’t mean gay like you’re a homo. I mean gay like… girly like.”
“Yeah but you’re gay.”
“No I’m free.”
“No you’re not free; you don’t sleep with men, what kind of freedom is that?”
“You don’t sleep with men either.”
“Yeah ‘cause I’m no f*g.”
“Listen… when I call a guy a f*g I don’t mean that he’s gay. I mean he’s like soft, you know; passive aggressive, or…”
“Crazy, just let me finish my story.”
“Oh yeah, you had a story, sorry...”
“Ok so, we’re kissing, and touching, and licking all over and there’s like all this eye contact and flirting. It was amazing.
The sex was out of this world… I mean she came maybe twelve times if not more, and I came without coming.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean I orgasmed, but nothing came out. I mean that feeling was just --- can’t explain it. We sexed for over two hours.”
“You f**ked her for two hours straight??”
“No we kept stopping and doing other things, like, never mind you don’t need details.”
“So wait what does she look like?”
“Oh man her hair is red and blonde, and she’s small and so cute. She told me she was mixed with Chinese, Hawaiian, Black, and White.”
“Wait a second is her name Soryiah??”
“No she told me her name is Happy.”
“Yeah stupid Soriyah mean’s Happy.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah I’m serious… and that’s the same girl that just left my house.”
“Can’t be!”
“Can be, she had this strange tattoo on her side...”
“Right under her arm, oh shit crazy, how do you know her?”
“I met her at the coffee shop and that design shaved above her p*ssy is a moon isn’t it?”
So we’re running the 8 blocks to the coffee shop. Why were we running I’m not even sure? What did we think we’d find? Out of breath looking through the coffee shop front window, I could read her lips, she was telling him her name is Poujani. Poujani means moon in Greek. She read that in a book of mine last night…
Crazy just looked away, then, walked away, but I couldn’t. I impatiently held the door for an older lady coming out and as I walked in Crazy came running behind me, furious. Flabbergasted, Happy looks up and sees us. The place is crowded. With a look of panic in her eyes; she grabs her stuff and heads for the back exit.
“Excuse me, Excuse me… Would you f**kin’ move?” I shout out loud and the whole shop gets quiet. People move out of my way but it’s too late. There’s no sign of her anywhere. Outside, Crazy lights us each a cigarette and we smile at each other.
“Crazy, when can I get some p*ssy from you?”
“Well X, when you cut your d*ck off.”
“Ouch! Never huh?”
“Pretty much baby… but you can eat me,” she adds as an after thought.
“I don’t want to just eat you.”
“Why not?”
I took another pull and never answered her, because I’m in love with you, I thought to myself. I’ve always been, from the time I helped you bring your TV upstairs to your new apartment, two floors below mine. I’d never say it out loud, maybe I should… Who am I fooling? You think I’m a f*g, soft, girly like.
I see Crazy at times, walking past the coffee shop. I see her from my job across the street. She pretends to smoke a cigarette, looking through the coffee shop window. Well, not that she’s pretending to smoke; the pretense is that the coffee shop window is the only place suitable to have a smoke. She’ll never admit it but she’s hoping to find Happy. I know because even though it’s a year later I walk pass every day at different times looking through, reading lips, hoping someone will mouth the words, hello I’m Happy…
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