We Are Not Saints by David M

Author:David M [M, David]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2013-10-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter fourteen:

The first girl I met seemed a little odd. She said she had an on again, off again relationship with her boyfriend. She only lived a few doors from me, so I kept a safe distance for a while. Eventually though, we began our own on again, off again relationship. It was a great distraction.

I suspected the relationship with her other boyfriend was on again when he was home from work, and off again when he worked the night shift. I knew this would lead to trouble, but she was a lot of fun. Soon though, I needed a distraction from my distraction.

It wasn’t long before the stripper and the girl from the gas station came along. The gas station girl was nice. She was separated from her husband and had a house full of children. She had a job and seemed to be doing alright. She seemed to be normal in every way. I knew I had to keep this one at arm’s length until I could figure out what was wrong with her. She was a mystery.

There was no mystery with the stripper. She was scary in every sense of the word. We met at an end-of-the-road strip joint in a town that had died many years ago. This was the place young crack whores picked up clients and old strippers went to die.

I showed up one night a few minutes before they opened and was let in by the bartender. She was a retired stripper but still looked pretty good. Unfortunately, she was also the owner’s girlfriend so I mentally crossed her off my list of options.

The place was BYOB, so I walked in and sat at the bar with a bottle of whiskey. The bartender laughed and said most people bring a six-pack. I responded with a smile that most bartenders serve more than just soda. We had a few drinks and chatted while we waited for the dancers to straggle in.

I told her I had bad luck in places like this. I confessed that I was an easy target, and usually spent all of my money on the girl no one else wanted. I was just too nice a guy to tell the homely girls to go away. I asked her to make sure this didn’t happen to me tonight and she agreed. In return, I promised her a nice tip.

The first two or three girls to hit the stage were fun to look at, but I was enjoying my bottle more than the show. The next girl up caught my attention, but for all the wrong reasons. She was short, round and her hair had been bleached to the breaking point. She had a giant face that looked as though she had pressed it against a bakery window for far too long. She bore a striking resemblance to Miss Piggy.

I tried to look away, but it was like trying to look away from a train wreck. Sure enough, when the song ended she came straight for me with a big clown smile on her face.

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