I want my breasts to be so tight together that you can slide a credit card between ‘em but there’s only so much I can fight gravity without the aid of a bra. And only born-again Christians would wear a bra underneath a tube top. Well them and Leanne, but I wouldn’t imagine she has any choice in the matter with a pigeon chest like hers. I reckon the only thing she’s ever filled out in her in life is a store card application for Dollar Tree.
I put in my hoop earrings and have a twirl around the mirror to make sure my shorts are highlighting, and not hiding my booty. “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they’re like, it’s better than yours. I could teach you but I have to charge.” Sorry Kelis hun but you wouldn’t stand a chance. Stick a fork in me I’m done. Fellas I hope you’ve got protective gloves on because I’m sizzling tonight.
“C’mon Tori the taxi’s already waiting ten minutes. The club will be closed at this rate if we don’t get a move on.” Jorge shouts up the stairs.
Sure the party don’t start ‘til I step in.
“Okay okay.”
Don’t you know perfection takes time? I give myself a big smoochy lip gloss kiss in the mirror for good luck and leave.

That taxi ride was rough. Cassidy can give me daggers all she likes but it’s not my fault her man appreciates a good woman. Maybe if you didn’t dress like his grandma his eyes wouldn’t wander. Who wears blazers on a night out unless you’re Ellen Degenerate? And Cassidy’s far too prissy to be dining el Lesbo.
When we walk into the club all eyes are on me so I work my body accordingly and let them all catch a glimpse of what they’re missing. The night is fairly poppin’ but with nothing more on offer than free-range mother’s boys dressed in slacks and chinos. I need a real man. Jorge would certainly fit the bill if he didn’t talk about dieting so much-he’s like a middle-aged housewife. I spot Jordan in a booth by himself, and as I can’t find anyone else, make my way over.
“Where is everybody?”
“I’m not sure-I got landed with cloakroom duty. The girls are up dancing, and I think I saw Ricki and Cassidy chatting to some peeps by the door.”
“I’m heading to the bar. You want a drink?”
“I’m good hon.”
I love the harsh, rugged tone of his accent, and unlike Mike I can understand what he’s saying. Crazy Irish always speak so goddamn fast.
I’m up at the bar when I feel someone thug at my waist, trying to creep.
“Hey baby, what’s with the cameras? You like a model or something?”
“I’m not like a model-I AM a model. And if you touch me again I’ll break your fuckin’ hand.”
“Meow…Kitty got claws-I like that in a woman. Can I get you a drink?”
“You can get me five but I’m still not interested.”
These preppy bastards are all the same-all mouth and no trousers. I bet this jerk wouldn’t even know what to if his meat was half way between my legs. I order my drink and when I return to Jordan he tags me and says, “You’re it. I need my nicotine fix.” before exiting to the smoking area.
I survey the club and for the first time realize just how fierce the opposition is looking. Fuck this I’m not playing babysitter to a bunch of coats and handbags for the night. I need to regroup before the dance floor battlefield commences.
“Mind these I’ll be back in a few.”
“Tori you know we can’t interact, and besides you can’t just leave me here. It’s part of your contract.”
“I’m just going to the toilet. But fine you want to show the world me wiping my ass then by all means go ahead.”
He quickly caves clamming back into the booth.
“I won’t be five minutes promise.”
In the ladies it’s the same drama as always with everyone fighting for some mirror time. I swear to god if this plastic bitch next to me leans in my light one more time I’m a knock her the fuck out. How hard can it be to draw on a pair of eyebrows? Going by her expressionless face she should have years of experience. I hear a couple of girls in the end cubicle vacuum up some lines followed by frantic coughing, and wouldn’t mind a bump myself. Clearly it’s wasted on those amateurs. Not tonight though. Last thing I want is to be all teeth and gums and end up subtitled like some crazy horse on my first TV appearance. What is this girl doing? She looks like she’s put on her makeup with a shotgun. If she was a TV program she’d be an infomercial for self-help. That or adoption. I need people to see the real me-class in a glass.
Back at the booth the cameraman has a face like thunder.
“You’ve been gone close to twenty minutes.”
“Have you ever seen the ladies? Sure going to the toilet might be nothing more than a quick wiz and a couple of shakes but for us girls…it’s Jurassic Park. You guys don’t know how lucky you are.”
“Tori I don’t think you understand the seriousness of the situation. Kris will have my balls on a stick if something happened and I missed it.”
“Fine message received next time I’ll squat on the dance floor if it stops you from having a heart attack.”
Right then Jordan returns and tags me back into the game.
“Thank god. It feels like I’ve been stuck here forever.”
“Sorry hon.”
“You find the others yet?”
“Yeah they’re just by the bar up off the dance floor.”
“Well come on don’t just sit there. You want action I’ll give you action.”
“Hold on.”
“Seriously I can’t win with you. You moan when you can’t film and then moan when you have to film me, like what’s up with that?”
“Here I almost forgot,” He says handing me a cocktail, “some guy from the bar got it for you.”
I try to down it in one go but it’s strong and burns my throat.
“Woo this shit is loaded,” I say before downing the last mouthful, “well don’t just stand there-showtime!”
Tiesto pumps out of the sound system just as I manage to locate Kelly and Leanne.
“Come on bitches time to dance.” I say swinging my arms around the girls.
Up on the dance floor it ranges from people pretending to dance to beating the beat. The dark lighting certainly cloaks a few gargoyles but there’s still no denying the toad-to-prince ratio is off the chart. Even when I find something worth a look they only come in pocket size. Speaking of which is that the guy from the bar? I study him for a few seconds as he clicks his fingers to the beat, swaying from side to side, navigator shades tilted to take in the action-definitely him.
“Thanks for the drink.” I roar over the beat.
He looks at me strangely so I can only assume he didn’t hear me or is playing some stupid game. Whatever. I quickly move away and search for someone to flirt with but soon become exhausted. Jesus who knew trying to find a good looking guy would be such hard work? By the time the next song starts to mix I’m totally drained. This place is a sweatbox-gotta get some air.
Outside on the patio the situation’s not much better as the hot, humid air hangs heavy with smoke. I take a seat away from the crowds to get my breather in, slightly dazed amongst the haze of cigar filled laughter.

Next chapter.

Previous Chapter.

From the beginning.

One thought on “Free-Range Mother’s Boys

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *