wc495 /NaNo/Writing Doodle

"So, you're a lousy lay?" Daniel asked. "Maybe I should be the judge of that? If you really are bad, I could maybe give you some pointers on your technique."

I turned to Chris and asked him if I could hit Daniel.  "Punch him in the arm maybe? I won't leave a bruise."

Chris slowly shook his head.  "Be the bigger person."

Vic snorted, "Just keep eating the way you did last night and you will be." I was pretty sure he was aiming his comment at me because Chris is tall and lean and I'm not so tall nor quite so lean.  There are days when I wonder if my curves have curves.

Chris looked at me hit his boyfriend on the back of the head.  Hard.  "Apologize.  Now."

"That hurt," Vic said.  He rubbed his neck and head and shot me a dirty look.

"Don't look at me.  I didn't touch you.  But you can go home, too.  I don't need this bullshit from you." Not now.  Not ever. I wasn't going to cry, but I wasn't going to call him to do anything. 

Maybe it was time to break up with Vic, too.  We were work friends and things grew from there, but we wouldn't have met but for that fishbowl.

"He's an asswipe when he's been drinking, Bernie," Chris said.  "I apologize for him."

Things might have escalated but Louie started barking the way he did when I come home.  His entire body was happy and excited.  When the doorbell rang, he tried to open the door with his mouth.

I opened the door and saw January xxx, the girlfriend.

She was all smiles and goodwill until she saw Daniel.  

"What are you doing here?" they asked in unison.

Then she saw the dog.  It wouldn't be hard because the dog was all over her.  He was excited and she looked down on him in disgust.  You'd think that the best dressed women never had dog hair on their outfits.

"I'm here to look at a dress," she said.  "Can you get rid of this dog? He's shedding all over me."

I knew it wasn't going to be a sale now. The tiny thing would fit her like a dream, most likely, but based on her response to Daniel, I kind of doubted she was going to stay. The dog wasn't making things much better.

"He's the only male I want in my house right now," I said. "If you want to look at the dress, I'll get it for you."

Vic looked like he was going to continue to make inappropriate comments and Chris was about to fillet him alive. And not in a good way.

~~~

this has rambled far enough ...

the next 10k words will be short ramblings but I attribute them toward word count since I'l maintain character names ...

next year, the theme is OUTLINE, LISA!

actually the next project is OUTLINE, LISA!

word count: 495

wc 1137 /NaNo/Writing Doodle

In the end, I didn't have Grady arrested, but I think I made my point without it.  It wasn't worth ruining his law career.

He didn't quite realize that the new girlfriend associated a law school student who worked an internship with the salary a partner earned. She seemed to think he earned enough to wine her and dine her on a regular basis, like he had when he lived with me and had no other bills.  Somehow she wasn't enamored with the idea of a Lady and the Tramp meal - you know, budget pasta, meatless sauce, and feeding each other across the table.  She wanted truly fine Italian dining and she could tell the difference. She wasn't gone yet, but when she figured out that there wasn't any more gravy on that particular train she might just hop it and look for another one.

Because he hadn't been responsible for his bills for years, it didn't occur to him that he needed to forward his mail so he could actually pay them, so the credit cards got canceled along with his health insurance.  The repossession of the car was, to Grady, the last straw, and he wanted someone else to be responsible for his life again. It was worse for him because it happened when he was at happy hour with his friends.  One minute, he had a car.  The next he didn't.  Same with his cellphone.  He had a great unlimited plan and then he didn't.  If I hadn't prepaid three months in advance, he would have been cut off much, much earlier.

He bought a cheap bottle of booze and started walking.  He had heard from a friend of a friend that I was in the same neighborhood, so he'd been looking for my car.  It was on the street because I just didn't think I could get into the garage without multiple attempts. I should have taken the time and replaced the car in the garage and I might have had a peaceful Sunday morning.

"I want to come home, Bernadette," he said.  "Please, baby.  I miss you so much." The tears in his voice were fake. He never actually cried unless he had been caught red handed doing something and the consequences might be grave.

"I'm not sure I even want to be friends, Grady.  The answer is no." I went into the kitchen, found my coffee mug, and turned on the electric kettle.  The big question was herbal tea or green?  Herbal and I might be able to get back to sleep.  Green and I'd be up most of the rest of the day but I could nap if I had to. I opted for green, better for my overall health and there might be a quiz later.

"I could move in for a couple of weeks and you'd never even know I was here." He'd been resting his head on his forearms and talking into the table.  The third time I made him repeat it so I could actually understand the words they came out angry and bitter, just what a girl wants to hear when she is deciding to take a jack ass back.

Sure I would.  He'd eat me out of house and home, leave laundry everywhere, and sent away for all the credit card offers that came in the mail.  We had already done this dance and I wanted a new song to groove to.

"Please?"

"No. I'll make you breakfast and then you need to be on your way," I said.

"What are we having?" Daniel asked.

I could hardly hear him over Louie's barking.  If this kept up much longer, I'd lose my hearing and then my mind.

"Never mind. I'll give you a ten spot and you can get something out," I said.  Somehow my purse was in the bathtub with Bernard as his pillow.

(Yes I know I can't diagram a sentence to save my life, and my punctuation is crummy right now, but it is all about word count.  Chant it with me!  Word count~  Word Count!  Word Count! You may now continue along with the story and forget that I have gone off the deep end with no outline and no idea where I'm supposed to be right now.)

One by one, the men who were now in my life, limited as their roles were, got up close and personal with the former man in my life.

"Jesus, Bern, did you open Boys' Town in XXX, XX or are you sleeping with all of them?" Grady asked after he folded his wallet closed.

Louie growled and then Bernard did.  Sadly, Louie looked more vicious and could probably inflict more damage.

"You can just leave, Grady."

"You always were a lousy fuck, Bernie," Grady said.

When someone starts grinding on you in the middle of the night after a fourteen hour day, you tell me how responsive you are and just how much pleasure you get out of the situation.

When he walked out, I promised myself I wouldn't sling any mud, go down to any degrading level or acknowledge anything other than the good I had gotten out of the relationship.  But you know what they say about resolutions and intentions?  Yeah, I can't keep them either.  I looked at Chris and asked, "Can I hit him now?"

Chris laid a hand over mine.  "All he is is an asshole. You've been more than kind. Just keep it up for another couple of minutes."

"Yeah, yeah.  Sticks and stones.  But this is soft tissue damage that no one can see.  Surely I can get even about this, right?" Slash his tires.  Advertise his services as a stud.  Talk to his girlfriend and tell her what to expect. Nah.  All too drastic and if the girlfriend didn't know he was a conceited, narcissistic jackass by now, she might never learn and why did I need to help her? She became engaged to him when he was living with me!

My phone buzzed.  Daniel answered it, "Bernie's bombastic house of burly bastards." There was a long pause when he turned to me and asked, "Do you have time today to talk to someone about a wedding dress?"

I nodded and held my hand out for my phone.

"Oh, so you are going to take me up on the offer to marry me so I can get the inlaws off my back?"

Every head at the table turned toward me.

"He's just kidding. Give me the phone, Daniel. You aren't being funny."

"I thought I was."

"No. Gimme." I wiggled my fingers to indicate my impatience.  "This is Bernie."

Forty-five minutes later, Jan XXX showed up at my front door hoping to buy my wedding dress.

Things do come full circle, don't they?

~~
tbc
word count 1137

wc 1177 /NaNo/Writing Doodle

The morning after the night before began at five a.m., about six hours too early. with a pounding on my front door.

Louie and I were nestled together on the love seat in the living room.  Bernard was sleeping in my bathtub.  Chris and Vic were spooning on my bed.  Daniel was asleep underneath my kitchen table.  Just me and four men, three gay and one questioning.  Romance.  Yep.  At least almost everyone was wearing some clothing.  The last time I've been in the throws of too many people and not enough clothes was when I went on vacation and they lost my luggage but they still had Grady's.  

The unexpected thunderstorm and downpour played havoc with the reception.  My dad wanted everyone to just go home and take a package of meat or hamburger buns with them. Marcella wanted everyone to stay beneath ramadas until such time as the cloud burst ended.  People stayed for the first two hours, but the later it got, the more the numbers dwindled.

There used to be a saying about it being lucky if it rained on your wedding day; if it was true, my dad could expect to be happy or at least lucky until he died.  I don't know if Marcella felt the same way, at least not after her wedding dress fell down and no one had any safety pins to reattach it.

The worst part of the night, other than the hamburger from the drive through?  The minister my dad hired turned out to be the one Bernard thought of as the one who got away.  it wouldn't have been so bad, but his wife came with him.  Only the fact that I was faster at putting my hand over his mouth than he was at screaming or fainting saved a huge moment that would have been worthy of YouTube.

Louie answered the door with such a resounding woof that he knocked himself to his backside.  And he wouldn't back down.  

"Open up, Bernie.  I know you're home."

I struggled to right myself and get to the door.  There were grunts and groans not only from my body but from the whole party.  I didn't need to open the door to know it was Grady.

I left the chain on the door and opened it just two inches, enough for him to know I knew who he was and he wasn't welcome.

"Grady, wha da ya want?" The words were a combination of a grunt and a slur.  My eyes wouldn't open far enough for me to really and truly take him in; all I got was a glance of disheveled and unhappy jerk.

"Let me in, Bernie," he said.  

"No."  I started to close the door but his hand was on the frame and if I closed it just right I might break his fingers.  While that wasn't a good idea, it might be considered assault and I didn't want to be reported for some kind of battery.  "Thanks for coming by. Bye-bye."

"For fuck's sake, let me in.  We need to talk," he said.

Daniel chose that moment to sit up and crack his head on the bottom of the kitchen table.  "Shit. Do munchkins live here?" he asked.

"I said no, Grady.  Is there something in that little word you don't understand?" I asked.  

Louie made his way under the table and attempted to wash Daniel's face for him.  "Hey little man, do you want to go outside with Daddy and water the plants?" Daniel asked.  "Bern, have you seen my pants?"

"You're still wearing them," I said. I knew Louie didn't need to go quite yet.  He had a cast iron bladder and he was only let out two hours before.

"Bernie."  This time Grady sounded a little menacing.

"Call me when I'm awake," I said. "I've got some serious shut eye to catch up on."

"Now, Bernie," Grady said.

"I'll let him in," Daniel said.  "The dog has needs."

No, right now the dog didn't have needs. Right now Daniel was being a busy body and Grady wasn't leaving.

Great.

"If you can't be civil, and from the sound of it you can't be, you can't come in," I said.

"Damn it, Bernie. You let them repossess my car," Grady said. 

So now we were at the important point.  

"No one taught you how to pay your bills?" I asked.

"How am I supposed to get to work?" he asked.

"Why is it my problem?"

"You owe me," Grady said.

"Actually I don't owe anyone anything," I said.  "I'll be right back."

I tip toed to the bedroom to see if Chris was awake or not.  I shook his foot.  "Big guy," I whispered. "Chris, I need a favor." 

He made an inarticulate sound.  "What do you need?"

"Do you have your stun gun with you?"

"What?"

"Stun gun.  Do you have it with you?" I knew Chris never left home without at least one peace maker or some kind or other, but wasn't sure if he included a stun gun in his collection.

He moved Vic's arm from across his waist and he sat up exposing a very yummy chest and abs.  He had just enough chest hair that it was kind of exciting to look at.  Too bad he was committed to my best friend and was on the wrong team.  Chris sat up and scrubbed his face with his left hand. 

"Bernie, what's going on?"

"Do you have a stun gun?" I asked for what felt like the fortieth time.  "I have a point to make and I want to make it quickly and with force."

Chris leaned over to the opposite side of the bed, across Vic's unmoving body, and reached for the pants he left on the floor.  He found what I was looking for and asked, "Do you know how to use this thing?"

"Point and shoot, right?"

"Let me show you," he said.

"In the living room."

"Sure.  Wherever you want."

Chris padded out of the bedroom behind me.  

"Bernie, what the hell is taking  you so long?" Grady asked and none too quietly.  thank you very much.

"I'm almost back." I put my fingers to my lips and pantomimed that I wanted Chris to stun my door knob. "I'm just going to close the door so I can take the chain off.  I'll unlock the knob so all you'll have to do is turn it, ok?"

"Fine."  Grady removed his hand from the door frame and he pulled the door closed.

At that moment, Chris stunned the door knob.  There was a loud groan followed by a thud and Grady was prone on my front porch.

"Thank you." I turned to kiss Chris on the cheek.  "Can you call someone to arrest him maybe for trespass?"

"Sure." Chris said, "Neat trick.  Where'd you learn it?"

"You forget, I've worked around electricity my whole life.  The circuit was looking for a way to be complete and Grady completed the circuit.  Easy peasy, lemon squeezy."

~~~

tbc

word count 1177

wc1092 /Nano/Writing Doodle

One day, I want to get my Wonder Woman Bracelet thingies and the magical lasso.  Actually, the Wonder Woman invisible plane was the thing most on my list for Santa in the next year. If I had it the day of the wedding, I would have gladly flown somewhere, anywhere away from my father's wedding. At the moment, my best shot would have been a carousel horse, not that they would go anywhere - it is the illusion that something is changing.  And right now an illusion is better than reality.

Marcella thought my dad was handling the catering.  He thought she did.  She decided to have no less than six bridesmaids but there were only two men who were willing to stand up for my father.  Each bridesmaid decided to wear something she liked, so there was not only no theme, but it looked like a limbo line going down the aisle.  The baker developed an allergy to flour and sugar and wound up with anaphalaxys(sp) and in the emergency room when he couldn't breathe.  To make matters worse, he always worked alone so he knew no one who could come in and finish it.  My father forgot which ring he planned to give Marcella and accidentally tried to slip my mother's wedding ring on her finger.

Freudian anyone?

I found an old cookbook at a second hand store (yes, I know these words are compound, but we're here for the word count, baby).  Most of the time it wouldn't be considered significant, but it was a military cookbook from world war II, and every recipe was factored to feed one hundred hungry, hot, sweaty, anxious, and growing men (see, I can stretch out a sentence).  When a recipe talks about the number of pounds of flour or sugar, you aren't playing for the minor leagues anymore either.

When I showed it to my father, he was able to find a caterer who would handle a bbq at a park and do it on short notice.  Provided I bought and delivered the food to the site.  It gave me a reason not to be a bridesmaid, a huge benefit to me, but it ensured I'd have to be part and parcel of the reception.  It was feeling more like an employee party than a wedding reception, and I kept waiting for an email about wearing my uniform shirt and a new pair of khaki's to the service.

I met my date, Bernard of the cute little hair cut, at the shop.  If he needed to repair me, he would have all of his tools and realistic lighting.  Or so he promised.

The door jingled as I opened it. I called, "Anybody home?"

Bernard came from the backroom looking more or less like my twin. I found a nice creme pants suit with a beautiful burgundy silk shell to wear beneath.  Turned out so did Bernard.  He also had a new hair cut and color.  Gone were the cute, long, blond tresses.  He'd gone short, dark, and spiky. the biggest difference between us was the shoes: one pair of practical shoes and one pair of pumps.  I'll let you guess which one of us needed help navigating the soft ground at the park and it wasn't me.  At least he was taller than me and he found someone to pup sit.

He yelled, "In the back.  Make yourself at home, Bern."

I lowered myself into a chair near the reception desk and looked for an old magazine.  Bernard read all of the trashy magazines at home and brought them to work when he was done with them.

I kept hearing snatches of conversation that didn't sound good.  Bits and pieces about "But I really wanted to see you after," and "I really miss you." I slid my sleeve back and glanced at my watch, if we left now, we'd still get to the venue with time to spare.  I've been on the wrong side of the 'where are you now' conversation enough times to know someone wasn't going to get any when the night was over.  Okay two somebodies, but you get my meaning.


Ten minutes passed and I wandered to the back of the salon and used the ladies' room. I went to the makeup chair, checked the Spackle on my face hiding the zits that broke out only last night, and that my hair was still cute.  Hey, when you go from years of not paying any attention to it to suddenly noticing it in a mirror or any other reflective surface (see, stretching out the word count again),

Fifteen minutes passed and I was current on all the news that doesn't really make any difference in the world.  My phone buzzed.  Where was I?

"I'm on the road," I said.  I crossed my fingers hoping it would be truer than not soon.  "I'll be there soon.  Promise." I disconnected the call and yelled, "Bernie, we need to get a move on. Ready or not, here I come."

Bernard was applying a little loose powder on his nose.  "Sorry. I'm pulling myself back together."

I nodded. "It was him, wasn't it?"

We both knew I meant the Mr. Perfect. Seemed that they got rendezvous on a sporadic basis and this was supposed to be one of those events.

He nodded.  "It's the third time in two months he's had something come up at the last minute. Nothing to do but go forward and have a fabulous time tonight."

"Exactly, darling," I said.  I slipped my hand over his shoulder.  "It will be wonderful.  and if it isn't, we'll lie to everyone who asks."

We got there with less than three minutes to spare.  The bride and the mambo line hadn't started down the aisle yet and my dad had found four more men to stand up for him.  That he paid them to do it and not tell Marcella, well, that's a horse of a different color - purple I think.

I signed the guest book for the two of us.

"You two look like you should be wedding toppers for a lesbian couple," xyz has always been a snarky bastard. "Or a gay one."

"Well, I thank you for the compliment," I said.  "It takes a special something to garner that kind of attention."

"Explains a lot about you, Bernie," xyz said.  "There've been whispers about you for years."

Bernard put his hand on my arm. "Ignore him.  He's just jealous."

Jealous or not.  The man had a point.


~~~
tbc

word count 1092

wc 1083 /NaNo/Writing Doodle

"So what do you do when you aren't at the dog park?" Bernard asked.

"When I have the time, I like to fix things and give them new life," I said.  "I hadn't done it in a long time and am just now getting my feet wet again."

"Oooo.  Sounds like fun," he said.  "Tell me about how you got back into it."

So, as he delicately painted color onto tiny sections of my hair and encased them in foil, I started to talk.  It was kind of like Old Faithful going off; things had built up and I hadn't said much to anyone at all about how inadequate I felt and continued to feel as a result.

"I had a man do that to me once," he said.  "Rat bastard."

"Exactly."

"That's why my Tuna-girl is so important to me.  She's my litmus test.  If someone can't get along with my baby who will love me no matter what, well, they aren't worth my time. In fact, she has only approved of one man who has crossed my doorstep since I've owned her.  He would have been a keeper, too."  He sighed.

"What was the problem?"

"He was allergic to my baby and I couldn't get rid of her. She's three and she's been my rock through some rough breakups already."

Three years and multiple bad breakups?  How long were his relationships? And how many is many?

"Are you still friends?"

"Yeah.  But I can't live in the past.  I have to keep looking forward. Do you have a test yet?"

"For a man? No.  I haven't even thought about it." Louie would be a great test, but so far he's loved everybody.  

"So what are your future plans?" he asked.

"Just a wedding." I closed my eyes.

"Sounds like fun.  Who is getting married?  Is it a theme wedding?  I LOVE theme weddings."

"I don't really know much about it.  I'm not wedding woman.  I'd rather do almost anything else than go to a wedding." Even the one I had fantasized about.  Sure I bought a designer dress, but I could never imagine anything beyond the basic justice of the peace and two witnesses from down the hall at City Hall.  "Honeymoons sound like a lot more fun to plan."

"And attend," he said.  "I'm not big on going to weddings either. Although I went to two theme weddings in a year and had the absolute best time!"

He told me all about the Elvis wedding his brother had about ten years ago.  "Everyone was encouraged to go as Elvis. You could choose which Elvis you wanted to be!  You could be Viva Las Vegas Elvis - complete with Cape and Native American jewelry. There was one man who went as 1968 Live From Hawaii Elvis, oh, he did the leather pants thing better than anyone I've ever seen before or after. And there was the one who showed off his official government badge, I don't remember what he was sworn in to do, but, baby, I would have liked to have taken a bite out of crime!"

"Was there peanut butter and banana for dinner or was it fried chicken?"

"I don't remember. All I do remember was when the beehive wig fell of the one and only Priscilla in attendance, it created quite a stir."

"Why do you remember it so well?"

"It was mine." He selected another strand of hair, examined it, rejected it and sectioned off another.  "I don't want to put in too many highlights.  Don't want this to look cheap."

Of course not.  The more natural, the more expensive.

"Now about the wig.  No one bought me for a second as Priscilla."

"Why?" He had a tall, slender build.  Good cheek bones.  And if he did his makeup just right, and there was enough distance, he might pass as a woman.

"I didn't have my beard or mustache shaved."

That would do it.

"Another fun wedding was Priscilla Queen of the Dessert."

"Wasn't that Priscilla Queen of the Desert?" I asked.

"The bride was a baker. Everyone wound up baking cookies and cupcakes at the reception," he said. "I gained about five pounds in one night."

I heard about weddings with a Renaissance Festival Theme.  One where everyone had to go as their favorite politician, a massive fight broke out and the police had to be called.  Then there was the one that had an Indian theme, Bernard thought it was Native American when it was more Bollywood.

"Do you have a date lined up for this one?" Bernard asked.

I didn't want to drag Chris and Vic to the wedding.  I'd be a third wheel and it would just feel odd and I couldn't invite one without the other.

"Not yet."  Maybe one of the guys on the crew? Didn't Marcella have a vendor somewhere who was single, straight and under 80?

"Sweetie, if I can find someone to watch Miss P for the evening, I'd go with you," he said. "I should check up on the lovebirds."

"Will you do my hair and makeup before hand?" I asked. "I just want to make sure I look good."

"You will be inspirational."

At the end of three hours, I finally faced the mirror.

Transformed?

You bet your sweet Aunt Franny I was transformed.  Even though I never thought of myself as having Audrey Hepburn's doe eyes, this cut made me look so like her in the best possible ways. The cut was short, flirty, and could be done in about ten minutes and that was if it was a rainy day.  Dry days this might take me about two minutes to towel dry.

"You know, we've got a little boutique," Bernard said.  "You might find something sassy to go with the new look."

In the past I would have said that I couldn't.  And it would have been true.  Now there was no reason not to take a look and at least get some ideas.

After I paid at the reception desk and hid my sticker shock at just how much Bernard's time had been worth, I wandered to the boutique.  If I'd gone into shock over the cost of color and a few highlights, I could have gone toes up at the prices for the little nothings at the boutiques. I did get some good ideas though.

I returned Louie home and found the consignment shop that catered to the Ladies Who Lunch.

```

tbc
word count 1083