I was sitting at a table in a low class bar in El Paso nursing a strawberry margarita, and I was pissed. Not drunk pissed y'all understand, angry pissed. In fact I was REALLY pissed. I was "P", double-"I", double-"S" pissed. Think of it as PMS on steroids. Why? Because I was sitting at this here table watching my husband, Dick, and his best friend and partner, Lou, as they whooped it up at the bar with a couple of floozies. And there didn't seem to be anything that I could do about it. Hell, Dick wasn't trying to hide it — he brought me here with him.
That was when I first smelled her perfume. I think it was a lily fragrance. I looked up when she stepped into view. She was a well endowed woman, with a big pair up top, and from behind, no one would mistake her for a man. Big wavy black hair. She was, what they used to teach us up at U.T. Austin, "Rubenesque". I figured she was late twenties, maybe early thirties. But, it was really her eyes that got my attention: they were a bright green color that would take your breath away. Must be contact lenses.
"Hey, girl. You OK? You look like you'd like to rip someone a new asshol'!" she said with that soft Texas drawl.
She seemed friendly, and for some reason, I didn't think that she was trying to hit on me, so I replied.
"Yup, I'm pretty pissed and fed up with that sumbitch sitting at the bar." I replied, "who happens to be my husband."
"I sorry to hear that.' she said, "Mind if I sit down?" She didn't really wait for an answer, she just sat.
By this time I could see one of the floozies, the Latina looking one, was down below the bar on her knees, getting acquainted with Dick's dick. Lily took a look over at the bar and turned back to me.
"I can see why you might be a bit put out. And look at that gawd awful shade of lipstick she's wearing." came her observation. "I'm Lily," she said, putting out her hand.
"I'm Jane, Jane Smith," I got the words out, then shook her hand, "Glad to meet ya Lily. And that prick, over there, is my husband, Dick."
"Your husband is 'Dick'?" Lily said, with a look that was close to mirth in her eyes.
I could see it coming. For ten years, ever since Dick and I got hitched, I have had to put up with being "Dick and Jane." Why did everyone start their First Grade reading with the same stupid books. "See Jane run. See Dick run. See Jane fall down. See Dick put his thing in Jane." OK, OK, I made that last one up, but I think you get the point — it gets old. But Lily either didn't know about Dick and Jane, or she chose to forgo all of the normal witticisms.
Lily kinda squinted at the bar, and turned back to me again.
"And who is that fellow with your man?" she asked, with a certain intensity.
"Oh, that's Dick's bidness partner, Lou. They've been partners for on to six-months now." I said, keeping my eyes on Lily.
"Hmmmm..." she replied, looking at Lou again, "you know, I think I may know that hombre. I haven't seen him for a long time, and he's changed a lot, but I think I recognize him."
As she spoke, Lou was leaning back in his chair laughing, his snakeskin Tony Lamas up on the empty stool next to him, his drink in one hand, and a stogy in the other, which he was waving around to emphasize his point. Dick must have thought whatever Lou said was funny, because he almost choked on the Corona he was pouring down his throat from the upturned bottle. Even the bitch sucking Dick off was laughing, although she never let loose of my husband's rod from her mouth.
Lily didn't quite turn all the way back to me, like she was keeping a eye on Dick and Lou, when she asked another question.
"It looks to me like your marriage is going through one of them 'rough' periods at the moment." she said rather dryly.
"Rough?" I laughed a short, phony laugh, "Like sand in the KY gel, honey!"
"Well, don't jest sit there leavin' me in suspense. Tell me about it." she demanded.
Now most of the time, I would tell someone who was prying into my dirty laundry to put it where the sun don't shine, but, oh hell, Lily could see the worst of it twenty-five feet away at the bar. Why not tell her the rest.
"Lily," I started, "For ten years, I thought that I had the best marriage and the finest man on God's little green earth. Dick was a loving husband, and true. We owned a little manufacturing bidness, made enough money to be happy, and were living a contented life. That was before Lou came into the picture." I paused.
"About six months ago, Dick tolt me that he was bringing in a partner. That was when I first met Lou. Now I don't know why, but I didn't cotton to Lou. First of all, he has the worst BO that I have EVER smelled. I kinda hinted to Dick that I would be a lot happier with this partnership if Lou would improve his personal hygiene, but Dick said that Lou couldn't hep it. It was some sort of 'condition' and I should ignore it, and how could I be so judgmental. But, damn girl, it's bad. He needs to cut something out of his diet."
I took a breath, and continued.
"On the other hand, Lou seems to be bringing in a shitload of new orders, and the company has been busier than a one-legged man at an ass-kicking contest. We've been growing, adding new people, renting more space, and makin' money hand over fist. So it is hard to complain. How could I be down on someone who is makin' us rich?"
"But, to tell you the truth, I was still worry about this whole thing. Is this real, is it going to last? How does a feller who smells like a skunk get so many orders; from a lot of the big companies, too. Come to think on it, maybe they give Lou orders to get him outta their offices." I reflected.
"Anyway, Dick said that Lou has some sorta hold on the bidness, and wherever he goes so do the orders," I concluded.
"Jane, " Lily looked at me like I was a little simpleminded, "That doesn't explain Dick sitting at the bar with that Guapa over there suckin' on his dick. Oh," she looked back at the bar, "sorry, it doesn't explain Dick bending that blond bimbo over the bar stool and mule fuckin' her."
I looked over, winced, and agreed.
"Yea, well that started a couple of months ago. Now I don't want to put Dick down or nothin', but as much as I love him, he was no Casanova. He's not that tall; he's good enough looking, but he's no Brad Pitt, and, don't ever tell him I said this — he's always been a bit pudgy. But all of a sudden like, he's irresistible to women. I mean, its like he can walk up to a gal, ask her to drop her drawers and let him have it, and they jest plain do it! I've seen it with my own two eyes, and I still don't believe it."
Lily silently nodded her head, hearin' what I was sayin.'
"And the worst part is," I continued, my eyes downcast, looking at the remnants of my drink, "that even after I've seen him messing with all these other sluts, we get home, and if he asks me to do something for him, I mean anything for him, I find myself doing it. Its like I can't resist."
"There is one bright spot, though," my eyes looking at Lily, "his tool used to be pretty normal. But I swear, I think its grow'd at least three inches longer, and that sumbitch is bigger around than my wrist. Its gotta be at least nine inches now, and it is one pure pleasure rod. He musta found one hell of a plastic surgeon to do that work. " I suddenly frowned, "Of course, its not my personal property anymore." I broke down, weeping.
I felt Lily's hand gently on my forearm, as she comforted me.
