by Jenn Hype
Dr. Doofus, or Dr. Daniels by his real name, had known my family for years. I grew up coming to his office and he hired me right out of school, but he was getting up there in age and his exhaustion was obvious. I felt myself actually feeling a little guilt, and shocked the shit out of both of us when I said, “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll work on it.”
It was hard not to laugh when his jaw dropped open. I was pretty sure he’d never heard the word ‘sorry’ come out of my mouth, but as much as I hated it, he was right. It was time I grew up and started behaving appropriately for my job.
The rest of the day was excruciating, having to paste on a fake smile and grit my teeth so I didn’t spout off when a patient made a big deal about refusing to swallow their own spit. They swallow it all damn day, but because they’re in a dental chair, all of a sudden the thought of swallowing their own damn saliva is disgusting? Yes, it would my pleasure to stop eighty thousand times during your cleaning just to suction up your saliva. It’s not ridiculous or inconvenient at all.
By the time I made it home that night I was exhausted. Being nice and pretending to like people was more work than scraping last week’s dinner out of their teeth and it drained me. Adalyn was at work...again. Her and Carrie had made up and were all buddy buddy, so I’d hardly talked to either of them in days, but we all had plans to go shopping the next day and I was grateful because I was in serious need of some girl time.
I was so pissed at Addy and Carrie for thinking I couldn’t keep the secret they were planning for Ian. Apparently they’d been working on some elaborate plan to surprise Ian with some new product that was loosely based off of him, and they were going to do a big reveal at an upcoming charity event we were all invited to attend. After a few hours shopping and pampering courtesy of Ian’s black Amex, though, I felt a lot better. Ian had insisted on treating us all for the event, and Adalyn really struggled with spending his money even though they were doing it like rabbits, but like hell was I going to pass up a girly day funded by my ridiculously rich friend.
We retreated to our favorite coffee house for some caffeine after having fully exhausted ourselves from shopping. A guy near the door kept eyeing me, and as much as I appreciated the attention, I really wasn’t in the mood to flirt. My ego was still bruised and despite hating myself for it, I was still feeling hung up on Chad. He really was attractive though, so when he flashed a stunning smile at me and headed my way, I decided maybe a little flirting was exactly what I needed.
Without even glancing in Carrie or Adalyn’s direction, he walked right up to me and held out his hand. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. It might sound like a line, but you are just so beautiful, I couldn’t not introduce myself. I’m Scott.” I gave him my hand and instead of shaking it, he kissed it, which felt a little cheesy to me, but sweet I supposed.
Then after several intense seconds he seemed to finally notice I wasn’t alone as he glanced at the girls, then leaned down to loud whisper in my ear. “If you’re going to shoot me down, can you at least do it gently? Don’t want to embarrass myself in front of your friends here.” His tone was playful and while he was extremely attractive, it was more in a pretty boy, Wall Street kind of way. He was obviously confident I wasn’t going to shoot him down, though, or he wouldn’t have bothered coming over.
We chatted a few minutes after Adalyn and Carrie introduced themselves, and after I gave him my number he said goodbye, promising to call the next day. I wasn’t holding my breath. He was charming enough, but I hadn’t felt very much of a connection, so it would shock me if I never heard from him.
Adalyn and Carrie headed back to the office to finish up some things for the charity event and I headed home. I wasn’t even in my door before my phone lit up with a message from an unknown number.
I couldn’t wait until tomorrow but didn’t want to come on too strong, so I thought maybe a text message would make me seem less eager. ;-)
I laughed and shook my head, genuinely surprised at just how much charm this handsome stranger possessed, even through text. I decided to let him sweat a little bit and threw my phone on my bed, heading for the shower. An hour later, I’d almost forgotten about his text entirely, and when I went to look at my phone I had two more messages from him. He was coming across a little needy in my opinion, but it still felt good to have someone eager to pursue me.
Put a guy out of his misery and let me know I didn’t scare you off.
Or if I did, at least give me a chance to show you I’m not some creep. ;-)
Maybe some girls would like the forwardness, but I tended to enjoy a good chase over blunt honesty. And his use of emojis was kinda weirding me out. I was half tempted to just ignore his texts entirely, but then chided myself for being so judgmental. Maybe my problem was that I never gave the good ones a chance, instead only ever going after the assholes like Chad.
Takes a lot more than a few text messages to scare me off. But you can make it up to me. I need a date for a big charity event the day after tomorrow. How would you feel about being my arm candy?
Scott agreed and we ended up spending the next couple of days texting back and forth with playful banter. It was only through text, but he seemed like a laid back guy and had a good sense of humor. At least, it seemed like he did because he didn’t act offended when I’d send him inappropriate gifs.
Still, I couldn’t help but think of Chad every time I thought about Scott. It was pissing me off. I even felt guilty at times for talking to another guy which was bullshit. Chad and I had never even dated! I was getting on my own nerves, so thank God I hadn’t seen Carrie or Addy since we’d went shopping. I would have driven them crazy.
The night of the charity event Scott picked me up, and I had to admit, he looked just plain sinful in his black three-piece suit. Too bad I felt absolutely nothing when I looked at him, other than an appreciation for such a gorgeous specimen of a man. When he put his hand on my lower back to help me into his Audi I expected to feel butterflies, but...nothing. I felt comfortable near him, but no sexual tension. It was like being with Joe. Maybe my libido was broken.
Scott was great company. He was a gentleman and polite to everyone, and I was genuinely enjoying my time with him. I kept trying to talk myself into wanting to sleep with him, which was a fucking ridiculous thing to try and force, but anytime I tried to picture it I still felt...nothing. Every woman in the entire room was eyeing him like they would strip naked in front of the crowd if he’d give them the slightest bit of attention, yet here I was on his arm with my vagina dead to the world.
It was like Chad had caused the apocalypse of my sex life and my vagina had gone into some kind of self-preserving hibernation. Or like my sex drive had climbed into itself like a turtle that had been startled. I wondered if my ovaries had dried up and disintegrated from lack of use. Or if my G-spot was even still alive, or if it had lost hope and just gone into retirement. I hadn’t even used Gerard in weeks. Was I even capable of an orgasm anymore? Just the thought of trying to find out made me cringe.
I understood why lonely women bought cats. When your pussy shrivels up and dies like mine apparently had, then you just go looking to replace it. Maybe I could look into a pussy transplant. Could you go to the ER and tell them your pussy was dying?
There was once a time when I felt like my loins were literally on fire. I actually walked up to a fireman in uniform and asked him to put out the fire in my pants with his big hose, which of course, he did. But now? It was a freaking ice box. I was sure if I went to see a gynecologist, when they went to do my exam a bat would fly out, since my vagina had turned into a cold, empty cave.
Maybe there were vagina mechanics? Maybe they could jump start my libido. Lube me up and hook me up with some new spark plugs. I could flash my headlights and help them blow a gasket while they cleaned out my rear exhaust. They could give me a full throttle body servicing and hook me up to some jumper cables to get my engine going.
Okay, I never
really realized how much men compare sex to cars. There is no way it’s a coincidence that practically every car term can be used as some kind of double entendre.
I remembered watching a TV show once about a woman who had a condition called Persistent Genital Arousal Disorder, where she was constantly in the state of arousal, like an orgasm that would build for days. They compared it to restless leg syndrome, but for your vagina. I was so jealous. On the show she was miserable and embarrassed because she would have spontaneous orgasms, but I thought that sounded fucking awesome. Anyone who would take that for granted was just an ungrateful bitch.
Can you imagine how much something like that would mess with a guy’s head? Men wouldn’t even have to try to get her to orgasm. They’d think all you had to do was look at a clit and a woman would just go toppling over the edge. The let down they would feel when they had to actually earn an orgasm would probably be devastating to their ego.
What would the opposite of that disorder be? I’d have to Wikipedia that shit when I got home, because I was sure I had it, whatever it was. All of my sex organs joining together and going on strike was bullshit. Forming a union and treating me like the enemy wasn’t going to help, because I would have easily given them whatever they wanted if it meant they would just go back to work. Problem was, every time I would beg and plead for my sex parts to just tell me what the hell they wanted so I could put an end to the temper tantrum my vagina was currently having, they just ignored me. It was such a slap in the face, being treated like I hadn’t spent the majority of my life trying to stimulate and please them daily.
I deserve better than this, dammit! I was mentally yelling and shaking my fist at my vagina, which signaled the beginning of the end for me. I was going to have to find a way to survive in this post-orgasmic world I had found myself in.
I was still cracking myself up at the expense of my dearly departed sex life as Scott and I joined Carrie in the ballroom. We took our seats and I kept one eye on the door, waiting for Adalyn to walk in with Ian. It was truly amazing what she had pulled off for him in such a short amount of time. Her creativity and artistic abilities had always impressed me, and the product she had made for Ian’s company was just proof of how much talent she really had.
I couldn’t wait to see Ian’s face when he walked in, and I sat with my knee bouncing up and down as we waited for them to enter. Everyone had taken their seats and after about fifteen minutes past the time the presentations were supposed to start, I started to get worried. Where were Adalyn and Ian? The speakers on stage were concerned as well, sharing hushed whispers between themselves.
Suddenly the doors burst open and Ian appeared, yelling for me and Carrie. I started to jump up and run to him, because even with his dramatic entrance aside, there was panic written all over his face. Something was wrong, and Adalyn wasn’t with him. But before I could get to him, someone pulled him up on stage.
Adalyn was supposed to speak first. She had worked hard on her speech, poured so much into it. It was clear Ian had no idea what was happening and the person talking was doing a great job of butchering all the hard work Addy and Carrie had put into the comic they were presenting. It took everything in me to not just yank Ian off the stage, but luckily I didn’t have to, because at the first opportunity he was running down the steps. I looked at Carrie and knew without asking that she was thinking the same thing as me. We jumped up and ran to the exit, Scott close behind us as we met up with Ian at the doors.
There was fear and desperation in Ian’s voice as he gave us the CliffsNotes version of what happened, which apparently was his ex Maggie all by raping him, only to be interrupted by Adalyn when Maggie’s tongue was shoved down Ian’s throat. If I wasn’t so worried about what Adalyn must be thinking and feeling, then I would have strangled him right there. How the hell could he do that to Adalyn?! I saw the pain in his eyes, and knowing how great of a guy Ian truly was, I didn’t doubt that it was all a misunderstanding. Regardless of how shitty he was feeling, though, Adalyn was still out there somewhere alone.
We all rushed outside to our cars and it wasn’t until I went to get my keys out of my clutch that I remembered I hadn’t driven. I had completely forgotten Scott was even there, and I instantly felt guilty for him having been sucked into this shit storm.
“Scott, I’m so sorry. I know I haven’t been great company and then all of this drama...thank you for coming with me. If you don’t mind running me home so I can get my car, I’ll find a way to make this up to you later.” I gave him a tight, forced smile, because right then it was all I had to offer. All I could think about was getting in my car so I could start looking for Adalyn.
“No way, Stacy. You aren’t driving when you’re upset like this.” I started to argue with him, but he interrupted me before I had a chance, which was probably a good thing because when I was stressed I was mean and I honestly didn’t have time to be apologizing for my bitchiness. “I’ll drive you. When you find Adalyn she’s going to need you to be there for her, and you can’t do that if you’re in the hospital after wrecking your car.”
“Scott, that’s so sweet of you, and I really appreciate it, but I can’t ask that of you. We don’t even really know each other. I can’t let you drive me around looking for my friend. It could take all night.”
Scott didn’t even respond, he just opened my door and I slid in. We sat quietly as I instructed him different places to go to in hopes of spotting Adalyn, but after hours of driving and still not seeing her, I was starting to lose it. Ian, Carrie and I had been in constant contact either by phone or text, and they were having just as bad of luck as I was. I tried to keep myself from thinking the worst, but the longer I went without hearing from Adalyn, the more worried I got.
Around five in the morning is when I started to really get worried. Scott took me back to my apartment to wait in case she came home while Ian and Carrie still traveled all over the city trying to spot her.
I’d been trying Joe’s cell phone all night but he wasn’t answering. I didn’t know if it was because he was pissed at me for all the shit going on with Chad or if he was just busy, but I was starting to panic. Just disappearing without a plan or telling anyone where she was going wasn’t like Adalyn. Even in the darkest time of her life, when she’d been raped in college by her asshole ex-boyfriend and his shithead group of friends, she hadn’t run away like this. All I could think was that she had to be in a ditch somewhere, because she should have come home by now or found a way to reach me.
Scott drove me to the police station. Bill was working and said Joe was off duty. I tried to file a missing person’s report but he said it was too early, she hadn’t been gone long enough. Joe still wasn’t answering his phone, even when Bill tried calling him, so I knew he wasn’t just avoiding me. I decided to take a chance and drive to Joe’s house with the hope that he’d be home and willing to help us.
I knew Adalyn was an adult and was probably fine, but she had no money, no phone and was emotionally distraught. To top it off she was in New York City, where one wrong turn could take you to extremely dangerous places and she didn’t know the city all that well yet.
Scott followed my directions to Joe’s house, but when we got there; Chad’s Jeep was in the driveway. I hesitated after he put the car in park on the street out front of the house, but despite how much I desperately did not want to see Chad, this wasn’t about me. Adalyn could be in danger or hurt or worse, and my pride would have to be put aside.
I was faintly aware of the fact that Scott was following close behind me, but my brain was swimming with so many emotions it was hard to think about anything other than finding Joe and getting out as quickly as possible, hopefully managing to avoid a face to face with Chad. I raised my hand to knock, even though the door was never locked. I reached down and opened the door instead and stepped in.
My feet were killing me and I realized I was still in my gown from the event. I’d been freaking out so badly for the last several hours that I ne
ver thought to change my clothes. Suddenly standing in the middle of Joe’s dark living room with people I’d never met scattered around, I was acutely aware of how ridiculous I must have looked in my formal attire.
I squinted my eyes to see if the one of the sleeping bodies scattered across the living room was Joe, but none of them were. I made my way out back when I heard people in the pool but I didn’t spot Joe there either. It wasn’t unusual for Joe or other houseguests to still be up partying this early in the morning. Or late in the night, depending on how you looked at it. Luckily, I still hadn’t seen Chad. Maybe they had gone somewhere in someone else’s car?
I approached Joe’s bedroom and when I went to turn the knob I could hear moaning from the other side. I knew Joe didn’t care if people witnessed his sexual acts, but I still felt bad to interrupt. I stood outside the door for several seconds trying to decide if I should wait. Realizing Scott was still standing behind me I turned and asked him to wait in the car. It was bad enough me having to walk in and bear witness to whatever devious acts were happening behind Joe’s door. I didn’t want to subject my poor date to that, especially considering how patient he’d been this whole night even though he barely knew me or Adalyn.
Once Scott was out of sight I turned back to the door and pushed it open slowly. Not sure why I did that. It probably would have been smarter to make a loud noise so they knew I was there, but it felt rude barging in. Because you know...sneaking up and creeping on people while they’re having sex is much more polite.
When I had pushed the door open far enough to see inside I saw Joe standing a few feet away from me, his head thrown back while a half naked woman was on her knees giving him a very enthusiastic blow job. They still hadn’t noticed me, and right when I went to cough and make myself known, Joe came to orgasm and he let out a loud moan as he gripped the hair of Hooker McSucksAlot, who had upped her rigorous tempo while he filled her mouth with his man juice.