I’m starting to lose feeling in my face. It’s just as well. I have to be hammered to get through this. Apparently, you can still smoke in bars in Milwaukee, or at least in strip clubs.
My eyes water from it. I rub them, coughing. When my vision clears, I see her.
Sliding down the length of the pole up on the side stage, her eyes closed, her skin paper white. Thick blue eye shadow, flaming red hair, smooth like a shampoo commercial, cascading down her shoulders.
She dances to a song I’ve never heard, something grungy with a sweet female voice singing candy words to a pulsing beat.
I take a big swallow of my Southern Comfort on the rocks. I have no idea where my friends are.
It’s not her hair or her white skin or her makeup or her closed eyes. It’s her age. She’s the oldest stripper I’ve ever seen. Maybe in her 50’s, or a hard 45. Wrinkles at her temples and on her neck. Her breasts look soft and heavy in their gold bikini top.
I can even see it in her knees. They look bruised.
Still, she moves to the beat, and the whiskey in my blood makes me start to dance, too. Just a little. Just a swaying of my hips.
Jessie materializes out of the smoky darkness, shrieking “This bachelorette party took a turn for the amazing!” She grinds her hips up on mine.
The dancer’s eyes fly open. She looks right at me, unsmiling.
I stand up straight and push Jessie off of me.
“Is it time to go?”
This is a work of fiction inspired by the title prompt at my writers’ group meeting.
I met Stewart in 1997. We waited five years to get married. There was a lot of life and getting to know each other in those five years. It took five more years to make this family. And here we are today. (Well, in March of this year.) Someone pressed fast-forward. I can't believe how quickly the time went by. Happy fifteen to us! … [Read More...]
Writing prompt from my last writers' group meeting*: Write a poem or story about opposites. You have ten minutes. I've got this dead girl who follows me around. I keep her inside me like a secret, and she doesn't like that. Sometimes she swells up like when you smack your shin with a Razor scooter and a bump appears there with a bruise. My mom always puts a cold pack on it, to keep the … [Read More...]
I've been listening to "vintage" music on my iPod lately and "Rain King" by Counting Crows came on and I've always loved it. I listened hard to the lyrics maybe for the first time. When I think of heaven Deliver me in a black-winged bird I think of flying down into a sea of pens and feathers And all other instruments of faith and sex and God In the belly of a black-winged bird The … [Read More...]
On Saturday I started Project 333: I chose 33 items of clothing, accessories, jewelry, and shoes to wear outside the house for the next 3 months. Before: every girl needs an extra DVR box in her closet. The idea behind Project 333 is well-documented; you can read about Courtney Carver's capsule wardrobe challenge here and check the #Project333 hashtag on Instagram to see how I and other … [Read More...]
Usually, whenever I declutter a space, I get the urge to purchase new things to replace the things that I've just moved out of my space. I tell myself "I need a new bin to hold these things," or "It's time for new curtains for this window." I planned to spend this weekend focusing on my novel. I'm in the home stretch of the first draft after over 2 years, and I'm so excited to finish the story … [Read More...]