It was just after ten. I was working four-tens back then. I was young and single. I was off on Fridays. For the last year I had spent most nights during the week at one of bars in the uptown neighborhood where I worked slipping away with one of the women in the call center for reverse happy hour. Lately, I had been seeing one of them fairly steadily. It had cut down on my social life.
Lucy worked four-tens as well but preferred mornings so we saw each other three times a day. Our shifts overlapped by two hours so I would go by her desk midday to say hello. At night when I got off I would go back to her little house and we would fuck. In the mornings before she left she would wake me up and we would fuck again.
The rumor mill around the office suggested we were getting serious. It had been a few months. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Lucy liked to fuck, nothing fancy, no foreplay, no games or teasing or lingerie, just naked, just fucking. I was enjoying it but I didn't see growing old with her. I wasn't going to break up with her, I just assumed at some point it would fall apart the way things usually do.
I was leaving work heading for Lucy's house and contemplating life but the tiny little brunette in front of me looked really good in her jeans. As tiny as her ass was, the jeans were tinier and whether it was the denim that shaped her ass or her ass that shaped the denim it worked. It distracted me. We walked like that to the door, past the security guy and out into the parking lot.
Those of us that started midday all ended up parked in the annex lot. It was down a hill down a flight of concrete stairs. I walked absent-mindedly following the kinky haired brunette. Damn she had an ass. The night had clouded over. The city lights reflected off the clouds and cast a dull purple glow over the city. As we hit the flight of concrete steps she looked back at me.
The eyes that first looked at me showed a hint of fear but when she saw it was just me they softened and she smiled a little.
"Oh, its just you." She said.
"Just me?" I feigned offense.
"I just mean you aren't dangerous."
"What do you mean? I am very dangerous."
"Uh, sure."
We walked more or less together. It turned out we were parked nose to nose. This was a long time ago. My Trans-Am was a nice car back then. It was a different time. Her minivan was still a minivan. In the drivers seat I caught her looking at me. She looked away when I caught her eye. I heard the hideous little motor her in Chrysler start up. It rattled. I turned my ignition, the large, woefully underpowered V-8 grumbled to life. It may have been a crap motor, about the same horsepower as a modern Subaru, but it sounded awesome.
Had I just been headed back to my apartment that would have been it. I would have waited at the light to turn left and get onto the freeway. I wasn't, I was headed to Lucy's shitty little dirty house downtown. I think if anything kept me from thinking more long term about our relationship it was three days of souring milk in cereal bowls in the kitchen sink.
I drove thinking about life and love and fucking. I wasn't paying much attention. I followed "BENZMOM" through the uptown shopping area and into the older houses further south. I think I knew Dawn was married and had a baby. I presumed now the baby's name was Ben.
The broad street we were on was a pretty major thoroughfare. It was the type of six-lane road with a median and a speed limit of 45. Most people drove 60. We were doing about twenty when her turn signal came on. I wasn't paying enough attention to wonder why but enough to think it was odd. We slowed further.
I didn't think of what I was doing as creepy. Not at the time anyway. We weren't in the best of neighborhoods anymore. It wasn't scary but there were more tire stores and garages than anything else. She pulled into a dark strip mall. There was a dive bar in the corner. I pretty good one actually. There was also a dead grocery store. You could still see where the sign had been painted around but the sign was gone. She drove around into the alleyway behind the store. It was dark and abandoned. Even the old security lights had burned out. She parked her little van in a dark nook in front of a large bay door. I parked next to her. I turned off my car and the night went silent except for the incessant rattle of a bent fan blade or loose motor mount. I got out of my car and moved around between the passenger side and her driver side door. She just sat there looking out the window at me.
I made a gesture. It didn't mean anything in particular. I shrugged my shoulders and held my hands out to my sides like you see statues of Jesus. She opened her car door and stepped out.
"You should turn it off."
"Why?"
"Its noisy?"
"Yeah, it is."
She was meek, maybe even mousy. She was suddenly embarrassed and climbed halfway back in her van leaning over the drivers seat to shut off the motor. Bent over I found myself presented again with her ass. It was so small. I wanted it. When she stepped back out she asked why I was following her.
"I think it might be your ass." I said because it probably was.
"I'm not going to sleep with you," she said.
I acted as though it was the furthest thing from my mind but stepped close to her.
"I'm not going to kiss you either," she said. Her eyes stayed fixed on my feet.
"I wouldn't even think of it," I replied but moved even closer, leaning against her van beside where she stood.
"That doesn't leave much," she muttered. She continued mumbling I continued to move closer to her. "I'm married, you know. I have a kid. You don't want me. You would have wanted me. I was hot. I was tight."
She looked up at me just briefly; her eyes were pale gray and her cheeks were freckled. She was adorable. I reached for her. She pushed my hand away.
"You shouldn't touch me even," she said.
"I wasn't going to touch you." I said.
"No? It seemed like it. What were you going to do?"
I didn't have an answer. I probably could have thought of something witty with a couple of minutes but instead I just reached for her. My intent in that moment was just to do all the things she had told me not to do unless she told me to stop. Women are funny - or they were. I don't think they are still like they used to be. I blame Beyonce - slut culture. Back then they thought they needed to say they wouldn't do what they wanted to do before they did it. It wasn't that "No" didn't mean "No" it was just that they always said "no" before they said yes. Kids today have it too easy. Swipe right to fuck, are you kidding me?
I reached for her; she contorted to avoid my hand. I caught her side just below her ribcage. I intended to grip her but kind of missed. She bent over and guffawed. I did it again repeatedly tickling her side, the dent between her hips and ribs. She laughed loudly and her tiny body clenched into a ball.
I tickled her with both hands until she was gasping for air and begging me to stop.
I stopped. She stood bent over with her hands on her knees catching her breath.
"Ticklish?"
"You have no idea."
"I'm getting the picture." I tickled her again, grabbing and pinching and shaking anything I could get my hands on. She chuckled and gasped and laughed and giggled. I was more or less holding her off the ground. When she slipped I grabbed her to keep her from falling to the asphalt. I happed to grab her ass between her thin legs.
"Hey!"
"Hey what?" I let go of her slowly. She stood back up.
"I'm not ticklish there."
"No?"
"No."
"Good."
"Why is that good?"
"I don't necessarily want you laughing when I touch you there."
"Why?" she asked.
"Why? Because there are whole other lists of responses that are much better."
