I started to open my eyes and quickly decided that was a really bad idea. Before, the ache in my head had been only a continuous ache. Once I opened my eyes and let the sunlight from the window in, my head started to throb and I couldn't see very well. After clamping my eyelids back shut, I lay there trying to will that throbbing down to a manageable headache again and tried to remember what had happened.
I did pretty well with the remembering thing at first. I'd gone to the office Christmas party the Friday night before Christmas. I remembered walking around, manhattan in hand, and talking to the people I saw every day at the office.
The guys weren't much different from the way they were at work. A suit and tie are still the standard dress code for men working in my company's office, and that's what the guys were wearing that night. The only real difference with the guys was the married guys brought their wives along.
Their wives and the women who worked in the office were a lot different. Because I had a sister, I already knew women like any opportunity to dress up, and all the women had gone all out. It seemed to me that there was a sort of competition going on among the women...well, several competitions actually.
The younger, single girls were into who could wear the shortest miniskirt. It was long legs galore in black nylon perched on shiny red or black high heels. They were interesting to watch because they kept trying to pull those short skirts down. I remembered thinking that they had to know sitting down would make the skirt ride up their thighs. I figured they were all wearing panty hose because even under the shortest skirt, I didn't see any stocking tops or garter clips.
The young, married women weren't into skirts quite as short. They seemed to favor skirts and dresses that reached to a little above the knee, but a couple of those dresses were slit up the side. Most looked to be wearing panty hose as well, but I remember thinking Mac's wife would probably be fun since she was showing some black lace and pale white thigh when she sat down.
The older women, married or single, were more into cleavage. That was pretty interesting too. The women I figured were in their thirties had some nice cleavage showing. The women in their forties had more, and the few that were over fifty...well, the valley between their big breasts looked really inviting. I remembered Marion, the woman who was a clerk in HR, smiling at me when she saw me staring. Marion's about fifty and she's not married. Her dress was cut so low in front I couldn't figure out how she could be wearing a bra, but those big breasts had to have some kind of support to be as high as they were. After she grinned at me and licked her top lip, I was thinking that looked a whole lot like an invitation.
I remembered eating dinner. I remembered the DJ changing from dinner music to dance music. That's when the remembering got pretty fuzzy. I remembered going to the bar for my third manhattan, or maybe it was my fourth. I wasn't really sure.
After that, I couldn't remember a damn thing. It was like somebody pressed the pause button in my brain and everything that happened after that was gone.
It was about then I realized my stomach was protesting almost as much as my head. It felt sort of tight but it was an empty tight, not a full tight, and it was cramping once in a while. My mouth tasted funny too.
Right after that, I tried opening my eyes again because I heard humming coming from somewhere and the humming was definitely female. Slowly, I opened my eyes and found out it didn't hurt any more than when they were shut. That's when I heard her voice.
"Wakey, wakey, Rick. It's time for breakfast."
Those words were loud enough to have been coming from a bull horn three inches from my ears, and that made the pounding in my head worse so I shut my eyes again. When I groaned, the voice chuckled.
"If you hadn't made that sound, I'd wonder if you were still alive. You are alive, aren't you?"
I still couldn't open my eyes, but I could talk, or thought I could. What came out was more of a croak than a voice.
"Stop yelling. Where am I?"
The bull horn voice screamed at me again.
"I'm not yelling and you're in my bed."
"Who are you?"
The chuckle seemed a little softer this time, but it still made my head hurt.
"I'm Carol, Rick. Don't you remember?"
The only Carol I knew was the Carol who worked in accounting. She was about my age, but that was about all she had going for her. She always looked pretty plain at work. She never wore makeup, and she always wore clothes that hid the fact she was female. She was blonde, and never seemed to do anything with her long hair except to keep pushing it out of her face.
I didn't remember even seeing her at the party, but then, I probably wouldn't have tried to find her. I was wondering how I got in her bed and if we'd done anything when she pulled the blankets off me and then laughed when I curled up in a ball.
"I think you're embarrassed, but I don't know why. You sure weren't embarrassed last night."
I had to know for sure, so I opened my eyes just enough to see her. Yes, it was the same Carol and she looked the same -- messed up hair, oversize sweatshirt and sweatpants that hid any figure she might have had. She was grinning like she was enjoying my misery. When I shut my eyes again, she laughed.
"Come on, get up. You need some aspirins, some coffee and some pancakes. I'll be in the kitchen waiting for you. Your clothes are on the chair beside the bed. That's where I put them when I undressed you last night."
I heard a door close, so I tried getting out of bed. I made it to sitting on the edge of the bed on the second try, but had to just sit there for a while until the blood stopped pounding in my ears. Standing up made my head throb again, and I really didn't make it all the way to standing. My stomach cramped up when I was halfway to my feet and that's as far as I got.
I was thinking we probably hadn't done anything because I still had my underwear on. That made me feel a little better. I got my socks and pants from the chair and sat back down to put them on. That was an adventure in pain, but I managed. The shirt was a little harder because I had to stand back up to get it.
I couldn't find my shoes, but that was the least of my worries right then. I had to pee, and I had to pee bad. I could only see one door in the bedroom, so I staggered over and opened it. I could hear Carol still humming, so I slowly walked down the hall toward the sound.
I found Carol's kitchen and she grinned when she saw me.
"See, you're still alive. Have a seat. Your pancakes are almost ready."
"Bathroom", I croaked, and Carol giggled.
"Back down the hall, second door on the right."
It felt really good to pee. My head still felt like somebody was whacking me with a ball bat about every two seconds, but at least I didn't feel like my bladder was going to burst. I walked back to the kitchen in my socks trying not to put my feet down too hard.
When I sat down at her kitchen table, Carol sat a cup of coffee down in front of me along with four aspirins.
"Take two now, Rick, and two after you eat something. You use cream if I remember right, so help yourself. I'll go get your pancakes."
About halfway through the four pancakes and half a cup of coffee, it felt like the aspirins had kicked in a little and my stomach had stopped cramping up. I downed the other two aspirins and drank about half of what was left of my coffee. Carol picked up my cup, went to the counter and filled it back up, and then sat there smiling while I ate.
That was a little disconcerting. I mean, she didn't way a word, she just sat there smiling, like she was expecting me to say something. I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask, but by then, Carol's pancakes had started to taste pretty good. It wasn't until I finished the last bite I felt like talking. Apparently that's what Carol was waiting for as well. She asked if I wanted another pancake or two. I shook my head while sipping my coffee again, and she chuckled.
"I suppose you wonder how you ended up here?"
