Dieting Makes Cathy Crazy

by Sally Redwood

  “A girl.”

  “That’s a relief. I might have been jealous otherwise.”

  “Excuse me, I gotta go.”

  I move away from him.

  He follows me. This is way too much!

  “What’s your name?”

  “Cathy.”

  “I’m Gerald.”

  “Okay.”

  I’m just a few feet away from Zoe now, but I still haven’t managed to put any distance between me and Hair Club. He refuses to get the hint. And then it dawns on me … between him and the Uber driver, this is how men behave around sexy women.

  I never really thought of myself as sexy. Slightly above average on a good day. But sexy? No way. That’s Zoe’s lane. But somehow tonight is already turning my life upside down.

  I wonder what would have happened if I dressed like this more often? Maybe I could have had my pick of men. And a five-month drought would never have happened in the first place.

  “Please, let me buy you a drink, Cathy.”

  “Maybe next time. Nice meeting you.”

  He stands there for a moment, looking me up and down. It makes me a little uncomfortable. But somehow, this attention is nice.

  Could I transform into one of those women that men scramble to open doors for and take out to fancy restaurants? That’s a world I know nothing about. But it can’t be this simple.

  Even if I do look the part, there’s one area where I know I’m seriously lacking … I have very limited sexual experience. I know the basics of giving a blow job but nobody is inviting me on the set of a porno any time soon.

  When it comes to giving head, I always do just enough to get the man hard before we have sex. And I actually prefer the missionary position. Ronny was constantly encouraging me to be more adventurous, but I like to look into a man’s eyes when he’s deep inside of me.

  Besides, I don’t think my butt looks that great bent over. I have a little cellulite. Yes, I’m aware that 80% of women have it too, but that doesn’t mean I want some man to get up close and personal with those unsightly dimples. As a result, I did everything I could to avoid doggy style.

  I don’t mind being on top as long as I have a bra on. My girls aren’t as perky as they used to be so I’m self-conscious about that too. The bottom line is that with a touch of plastic surgery, I could have a body like Zoe’s. But since that will never happen, I prefer my intimate moments to be from certain angles, and by all means, with the lights off!

  I approach Zoe from behind and slide into the empty barstool next to her. The handsome guy she was chatting with is nowhere in sight. I tap her on the shoulder.

  “Hey!”

  She turns around. Her eyes are wide and her lips curl into a smile. She wraps her arms around me. Her embrace feels good. I haven’t hugged anyone since I found out I’m dying. I try to put that thought out of my head.

  “Oh my God!”

  “What?”

  “Cathy, you look great.”

  “You don’t think I overdid it?”

  “Not at all. Look at you! You are one smoking, hot bitch tonight.”

  I laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called a hot bitch before. Definitely not smoking hot.”

  “Get used to it. I’m so glad you came out.”

  “Me too.”

  “What’s gotten into you, Cathy?”

  “I just decided to switch things up a little.”

  “More than a little! Damn!”

  She playfully slaps my ass.

  I giggle.

  “Stop it. You have to at least buy me dinner first.”

  “The way you look tonight, some man is gonna end up buying you a fucking BMW.”

  I smile. I might look good, but I know I don’t look that good. Or do I? It’s all going to my head, and I kind of like it. I’ll live inside this fantasy for the moment.

  “When you called me earlier, I was kinda worried about you.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. You just didn’t sound like yourself.”

  “Well, that was probably because of guilt. I splurged on some Burger City.”

  “Good for you. Was Ronny there?”

  “I’m not thinking about Ronny right now.”

  The bartender, a metrosexual-looking guy with perfectly groomed eyebrows grins at us. He’s so beautiful it’s impossible to decipher his sexuality. It doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t want any man who spends more time looking in the mirror than I do.

  “Hi, what can I get you ladies to drink?”

  Zoe grins. “A glass of white wine.”

  He turns to me.

  “A dirty martini.”

  Zoe’s mouth drops open.

  “What? No light beer?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Where’s the real Cathy?”

  “Huh?”

  “Obviously she’s been abducted by aliens.”

  I laugh as the bartender makes our drinks.

  “Seriously, Cathy. Why all of these changes out of nowhere?”

  “Don’t I have the right to change?”

  “Yeah, it’s just … never mind.”

  He hands us our drinks.

  “Would you like to open a tab?”

  “Sure.”

  I slide him a credit card.

  Zoe sips her wine and raises her arched eyebrow.

  “Now I’m really confused.”

  “Why’s that.”

  “You’re opening a tab…meaning that you plan on having more than one drink tonight?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Did you get a promotion at work?”

  “No.”

  “So, what’s going on?”

  Zoe has always had a good sense of intuition. I don’t know how long I can hide the truth from her. But right now, I’m going to try like hell, as I drown my pain with all this gin.

  “Nothing’s going on. I just … I thought it would be fun.”

  “Fuck. We’re gonna have a blast tonight. So what do you think of the spot?”

  “It looks like it’s going to turn into the new trendy place.”

  “Yep, until the next one comes along. You have to enjoy your day in the sun while it lasts, right?”

  I nod. I don’t want to think about how many days—sunny or not—I have left. But I guess I’m down to around 364. I wonder how many new things I can try in that amount of time.

  And that’s not the whole story. Based on how this disease progresses, I have much less time than that. The last few months, I’ll probably be in a fucking coma.

  After a lifetime of doing everything by the book, I am more than ready to shake things up. I need to write a bucket list but I don’t even know if I should waste time putting it on paper. Maybe I should just do whatever the hell I feel like. That intrigues me way more, anyway.

  I drink so fast that the liquor burns my throat. It’s kicking in. I feel tipsy. More free. Relaxed. This is just one of the many things I’ve been missing out on.

  “I’m gonna fuck some random guy tonight.”

  Zoe nearly spits out her wine.

  “What?!”

  “Just kidding.”

  “Oh. I was this close to rushing you to the hospital.”

  She laughs. Damn. Why did she have to say that? Now I’m thinking about doctors and nurses and heart monitors and … I know I need to stop it. I swallow the rest of my martini.

  “I didn’t know you could throw ‘em back like that.”

  “Hell, it’s Friday. Why not?”

  “Touché!”

  She finishes her wine.

  “You want another?”

  She nods.

  I wave to get the bartender’s attention. Usually, it takes me forever to be recognized. That invisible cloak of being average makes everything in life a little more time consuming. But tonight is very different because the bartender is standing across from us in a flash.

  “Can we get another round?”

  “Sure thing.”

  H
e makes our drinks.

  “You ladies having a good time?”

  We nod.

  “Good. I hope you come back.”

  He puts the drinks down in front of us.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Zoe nudges me, as he walks away.

  “I think he likes you.”

  “Do you even think he’s straight?”

  “Could be bi or pansexual.”

  “Remind me again, what exactly is that?”

  “It just means that you like what you like, regardless of a person’s gender or sexuality. Our yoga instructor identifies as pansexual.”

  “Well I’m gonna identify as drunk off my ass if I keep this up.”

  She smiles as I down more gin. It’s going to my head a little, but I’m still a long way from where I want to be…or rather…where I need to be.

  “So, how was work?”

  “I don’t want to talk about work.”

  “What?! I actually get a break from cabinet talk.”

  “For tonight. By the way, where’s that hot guy you were talking to?”

  “You mean Jim from work? He’s the one who did the layout in here. You want me to introduce you?”

  “I think he likes you.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t date guys on the job. Remember what happened last time?”

  I nod. “Don’t remind me.”

  Zoe had a little fling with a coworker on a business trip. Turns out the guy was secretly engaged. Mortified, she ended things. Then he had the nerve to file a complaint with HR and accuse her of sexual harassment! It was a big, ugly mess that took forever to sort out.

  Zoe guzzles down some wine and takes a deep breath. She frowns at the memory of it all. Her eyes flash with anger.

  “You know what the worst part of it was?”

  “What’s that?”

  “The sex was fucking lousy. I mean, the guy lasted all of four and a half minutes. He almost fucked up my whole life for something that was over before a commercial break!”

  I laugh. “At least that’s in the past.”

  “Thank God. I learned my lesson. No matter how cute they are, anybody at the firm is off limits.”

  “What if, for example, Ryan Gosling's doppelgänger started working there on Monday? Would that change anything at all?”

  She hesitates.

  “I knew it!”

  “You’re wrong. It wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

  “What if he walked in shirtless?”

  “Nope.”

  “Bottomless?”

  She pauses.

  “Come on, Zoe!”

  “I still couldn’t go there. What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Same scenario. Ryan Gosling's doppelgänger.”

  “In the past, my answer would have been simple.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Same as yours.”

  “How about now?”

  I shrug.

  “Cathy, you naughty girl! I bet you’d fuck him in the utility closet, wouldn’t you?”

  A tall, olive skinned man walks through the door. He’s wearing all black—black jeans, a black shirt, and he’s holding a black motorcycle helmet. He’s in amazing shape, practically a walking cover of Men’s Health magazine.

  He’s got sharp features and a square jawline. Hazel eyes. Short cropped, jet black hair. Is this man real or has the hallucination stage of my disease already set in.

  I stare at him so hard that I’m sure he can feel my eyes all over his body. My pussy has an immediate reaction. I have to fuck this man if it’s the last thing I do.

  “Cathy? You hear me?”

  “Huh?”

  “I said …”

  Zoe notices the handsome stranger, and my heart sinks. If she likes him, then I don’t stand a chance at all. Maybe I can tilt the odds in my favor if I offer him cash. I’m just that hot for him. This totally came out of nowhere.

  “He’s a fucking stud.”

  I nod. Immediately, I notice Zoe and every other woman in the room gazing at him. I know he’s way out of my league. And I don’t have that much cash on me! But maybe he’s willing to take credit?

  I finish the rest of my martini, never taking my eyes off of him. Even his walk is sexy. What I feel is raw and carnal. It kind of scares me, but I like it at the same time.

  “I think I’m going to go over and say something to him.”

  Zoe’s eyes light up. “Really?”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking about it.”

  “I’ve never once seen you pick up a guy in a bar.”

  “First time for everything.”

  I glance over at the bartender, debating on if I’ll need a third drink to work up my courage. But I know I probably don’t have that much time. The way these women are glaring at him it’s probably a matter of minutes before a thong gets thrown in his face.

  Speaking of thongs … I’m not even wearing my sexy panties right now. Fuck. If I do get laid tonight, it’ll be in a pair of red bloomers. Well, at least red is a sexy color. Right?

  I stand up. Oh shit. I’m drunker than I realized. I probably need to sit my ass back down, but nothing can stop me from walking over to him. It’s like I’m being pulled by a magnet between my thighs. Damn. I’m starting to get wet.

  Zoe touches my shoulder and tilts her head. “Are you really going over there?”

  “Yeah. I think so. Yeah. Why not?”

  She winks. “Go for it, girl.”

  She smiles, as I make my way across the room. One foot in front of the other. In my mind, I repeat the mantra, You are the master of your own destiny.

  My heart is pounding. I’m pretty sure it’s louder than the music. Now I know what men must feel like when they work up the courage to approach some chick. I think of that toupee’ guy. I guess I have to brace myself for the same rejection I dished out earlier tonight. Oh fuck! Here goes …

  Chapter Eight

  The closer I get to this breathtakingly gorgeous man, the more I start to question myself. Zoe is right; I’ve never done this before. I’ve never done anything remotely like this at all.

  All my life, I’ve always waited for the guy to make the first move. I guess that’s how I ended up with guys like Dennis and Ronny. Not to say that Dennis and Ronny are horrible. They’re both decent. Well-mannered. Average-looking.

  I think that it’s best for people to date in their own league. Like the whole Ryan Gosling thing…that should always remain a fantasy. A man like that has no business with me. I stick to the Jack Blacks of the world.

  I mean, don’t get me wrong. Ryan would be awesome arm candy. But can you imagine what it would be like to go out to dinner with him? Everybody wondering what’s he doing with her?

  But right now, none of that matters. I have no plans to date this olive-skinned, sexy specimen standing a few feet away. I just want to have one night with him, and I hope he’s not a jerk.

  But maybe that doesn’t matter. Even if he’s a complete asshole, I still want to fuck him. This could be my first one night stand. Oh God. I never dreamed of doing something like this.

  I spot Zoe across the room. She sips her wine and gives me a smile and a nod. I’m so nervous that I haven’t even thought of what to say. And since men don’t hit on me often, I don’t exactly have a treasure trove of pick-up lines.

  But I have to say something. And quickly. I’m so close I can smell him. He smells of leather and a hint of cologne. Not too much. But just enough to make me weak in the knees. This man can’t be real.

  He has his back turned to me, as he leans against the bar. I feel like I’m stalking him. Fuck. Think. Think. Think. I clear my throat. He turns around. One look into his hazel eyes, and my knees feel like jelly. I clear my throat a second time and say, “Excuse me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How do your feet feel?”

  “My feet?”

  “Yeah. I mean, they have to
be tired because…because you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

  He laughs. His teeth seem to almost sparkle like one of those actors in a toothpaste commercial. I can almost hear a gleam sound effect over the music. “I’m so sorry. That was terrible, wasn’t it?”

  “You could have done worse.”

  I can’t believe we’re actually talking. I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in…

  He looks me up and down. It’s very subtle. I almost miss it. My God! Is this man actually checking me out? No. I must be hallucinating. I probably should call Dr. Patel right now.

  Well if this isn’t real, then what’s the point of me holding back? I can step outside the confines of my old self and just live in the moment. But this feels so strange. Strange in a good way, but strange nonetheless.

  “So, do you come here often?”

  “Tonight is the grand opening.”

  “Right.”

  “But actually this isn’t my first time here.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. It’s a long story. I kind of know the owner.”

  “Oh. Nice.”

  “Do you want a drink? I know I could use one.”

  “That sounds good.”

  He waves his hand, and a female bartender hustles over to him. I can tell he has her hypnotized. And I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. She kind of reminds me of that lady from earlier. Petite with a Barbie nose and big boobs. Every man’s type.

  “Hi, what can I get for you tonight?”

  Her sultry voice makes it sound like she’s offering her pussy on a platter. How in the hell can I compete?

  “Let me get a Jack Daniels on the rocks. And…”

  He looks at me.

  “What about you?”

  “I … I …”

  “Do you want anything?”

  “A dirty martini.”

  I open my purse. He places his hand on top of mine. His touch makes my whole body feel alive. It only lasts two seconds, but it is possibly the most exhilarating two seconds of my life.

  “Please. I’ve got it.”

  “Thank you.”

  He smiles at me. I wonder if all of this is a dream. He’s a gentleman too—on top of being so fucking sexy.

  The bartender leans over closer to him, allowing her tits to practically pop out of her low-cut shirt. She flashes a big smile. I can tell what she’s thinking… He could do a lot better than me. And she’s right.