Page 4 of Baby Girl

Heathers hair was a disaster. Her hair was naturally brunette. She spent way too much time and effort to make it the perfect blonde. Her hair was always a different shade of blonde, varying from platinum to dirty, but always some form of blonde. She may change it twice a month or once a month, but she was never satisfied. Her hair was an extension of her life. Like most girls, when she was unhappy with life, she changed her hair. And her hair was always changing.

“I like it, it’s perfect,” she said as she stopped her chair from spinning, and focused on me again.

Heather had been my best friend all through high school. She was tall for a girl at 6’-1”, and played volleyball in school. She was blonde, attractive, and had huge boobs. She had the boobs since we were 14, and they were like a form of magnet to guys. Most guys just wanted to have sex with her because of her boobs. No one ever seemed to want to take the time to get to know her.

When I went away to college, she decided to stay home and go to the local University, but she never attended. She ended up working as a waitress at Hooter’s, and now was working at a new Hooter’s type restaurant called Twin Peaks. We never hung out there, because all of the guys are perverts that go there. We usually went to Old Town, and hung out at the Pump House, and that’s where we were today.

“What can I get you girls?”

“Bud Lime.”

“Vodka and water, with a splash of cranberry.”

“What?” the waiter asked, with one eyebrow raised at me.

“Vodka and water. Then, put a splash of cranberry juice in it for color and flavor,” I responded.

“Want to see a menu?”

“No, we’re just going to drink.”

A few weeks ago, Heather had met a guy in a bar downtown, had sex, and now he wouldn’t text her back. This was a typical douchebag move from a typical douchebag. Boys between the ages of twenty and twenty-six or seven seemed to all be douchebags, and all after one thing, sex. There was never any commitment on their part, short of committing to shove their cock inside of the first girl that agreed to let them. Men, on the other hand, acted differently.

“He’s not worth it,” I said, trying to ease her grief.

“That’s fucking hilarious, Kelli. How many times have you told me that same thing?”

I laughed out loud as I was sipping my drink. When I did, I started coughing. The coughing caused a chain of reactions, including the resurfacing of my half-swallowed drink. The vodka came out my nose, and onto my top and pants.

“Shit, you bitch, look what you did,” I said, pointing to my top, laughing again.

“That vodka burns coming out my nose. Damn. Okay, I am going to run and dab this off, do not fuck anyone while I am gone.”

“Fine, no fucking…”

The walk to the bathroom was just like every other time I walked through a bar to the bathroom. Every table I walked by that had a male sitting at it would end up with a remark, someone pointing, or a whistle. Boys, once again acting like boys. Sometimes, depending on the mood that I was in, it could be flattering. Most of the time, however, it was annoying. I suppose that I differ from most young women in that I am comfortable with who I am, and I know that I am attractive. This made the random compliments seem more irritating to me than to my friends. Most of my friends liked to receive them, and they were flattered by them. I wanted someone to notice me, want me, or feel a desire to know me based on who I was inside, and not what I appeared to be on the surface.

As I came around the corner to the bathroom, a man came out of the men’s bathroom. He was at least six foot tall, but appeared to be taller because of his build. His face had chiseled features, a strong chin, and a massive chest, especially compared to the size of his waist. He had a long torso, and reasonably long legs. Probably what a male would consider a perfect build. He wore a V-neck tee shirt, and jeans. His arms were covered in tattoos, and something about him drew me to him like a magnet. Staring at him, and attempting to walk into the bathroom, I ran face-first into the bathroom door. It sounded much worse than it felt. With my face in the doorway, I saw him turn and look as he passed. I quickly rushed in the bathroom so he couldn’t see my face. Embarrassed, I went to the sink to wash my cranberry stain.

Walking back to my table, I was pleased that I was able to remove the stain from my top. Wearing a smile of satisfaction, I scanned the area for the man from the bathroom. I didn’t see him anywhere. This was a fairly open bar with no hidden seating areas. Disappointed, I sat across from Heather.

“Ok, so get this. I was going into the bathroom, and a man was walking out of the men’s bathroom. He was so damned hot. He had on a black V-neck, jeans, and I don’t even know what else. Short hair, kind of blonde; but not really. Maybe it was brown. Brown-ish. He was covered in tattoos-all the way to his wrists. He was looking down at his belt when he came out, and didn’t notice me, which was good because I ran right into the door of the bathroom. I was so staring at him. And, the next thing I knew, whack, right into the door...”

“Older guy?” Heather asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, not older. Maybe thirty something,” I responded, in his defense.

“Yeah, Kelli, older. Not twenty-one.”

“Yeah, he was older than us, why? Did you see him?” I asked as I placed my purse on the table.

“Yeah, I saw him. He went outside. I heard a motorcycle start, so I suppose he left.”

“Do you know him?” I asked, starting to stand from my seat.

“No. I don’t know him, I know of him. My dad knows him. He goes to my uncle’s shop to have his motorcycle worked on. My dad has talked about him before. He’s normally gone for the summer from what they say. He’s some weird doctor. He went to college, Medical school, graduated, and then his mom died. He bought a shitty motorcycle and travels around the country. He lives in a shitty house over by Bel Aire. I heard them talking about him just the other day.”

“I want to fuck him. I want to fuck him until he can’t even think. He. Makes. Me. Wet. That guy just….Jesus, Heather did you see him?” I asked, now standing.