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Bankrupt
Donna R. Mercer
1
You ever have one of those days when you are craving something, but you don’t know what it is that you want?
Well, that was not the type of day that Tiara was having. She knew what she was craving.
She was craving Spring-rolls.
But not just any kind of Spring-rolls. No, Tiara wanted Spicy Spring-rolls. Not the plain ones made of shrimp, chicken, or pork.
She wanted the one made with a big D, little i, little c, and a little k.
She was horny.
She was going to have to settle for the pork ones from the Shanghai Chinese Wok takeout place around the corner from her house. Unless you can get a man To-Go, provided that he comes first. Tiara giggled at her thoughts. They skirted over the line between naughty and wicked. Guaranteed to get her mouth washed out with soap by her grandmother. Those black grandmothers had a way of making their disapproval known.
She dialed the takeout place from the front seat of her car. Some of Tiara’s actions fell into the category of super lazy. Like the fact that she was in the parking lot of the takeout place using her phone to place her order instead of going inside. Lazy. But smart.
Going inside required her to interact with people. Bad idea. Her original desire wasn’t being satisfied. Instead, she was getting a poor substitute. If she had her a big, hard, fat Spicy Spring-roll just pounding into her relentlessly as she screamed and writhed on her bed….
Tiara fanned herself.
She may need to crack a window.
Turn on the air conditioning.
It was heating up in her car. Just thinking about being fucked made her horny. This pissed her off. The prospect of finding a man who fit that qualification was slim to none. All she had to look forward to was another night of being hot and horny while sitting on her living room sofa stuffing her face with Chinese food watching old tv shows.
She called in her order. The sooner she got home, the better. Starting her ‘single woman with no dick on the horizon’ weekend. The restaurant gave her a time for twenty minutes later which translated to her going to get her food in twenty-five minutes. It was never ready when they said it was. This minimized her interaction with other humans. She got plenty of that as a customer service representative at Barnaby’s Call Center. One of their major clients, an insurance company, experience a high volume of calls in the last few months.
The last major hail storm that hit the city brought the douchebags out of the woodworks. People filed their claims left and right. The first wave of people was polite and eager to cooperate on the phone. It was the second wave of people. The ones who filed their claims, but weren’t happy with what the insurance company was willing to pay them to get their homes fixed that turned out to be a real pain in her ass.
If she had to be polite to one more nasty person, she would climb through the phone and choke them with their insurance policy.
Deep breath. You aren’t at work anymore. It’s the weekend and you can relax. Maybe take a road trip with your friend B.O.B. down memory lane. You know. Remember the good old days when you had some dick available on a regular basis.
Maybe she would check out that app her friend Barb, from work, told her about. She pulled out her phone and scrolled to the app store. She nibbled on her fingers as she tried to remember the name of the app.
“Proximity.”
She typed it into the phone when a cute little app with two people walking closer to each other appeared. It took less than a minute for the app to download and install on her phone.
Welcome to Proximity.The app announced when she opened it.
Your Hook up is closer than you think. She tapped on the app.
Well, at least the app didn’t lie about the purpose of it.
What is your favorite sexual position?
Wine me. Dine me. Sixty-nine me.
Spit or swallow?
Swallow.
