Rachel Jackson felt the hum of her cell as she picked up her stuff from her desk where she taught at Summerfield High and saw the image of her friend Maia Chen. "Hi Maia, what's happening? The gals thought of themselves as "sisters in arms" although this was probably more on Maia's end than on Rachel's.
"Hey Rach, I thought it would be fun to go out tonight. What do you think?"
Maia was always more ready to party than Rachel. Maia's husband had made a boatload of money in the futures market and after their divorce she was pretty well set. She got the house, a nice investment income and of course she didn't really need to work. The only restrictions on her freedom were two young kids.
"I don't know Maia. I've got papers to grade and a lesson plan to make."
"Jeez Rachel, you got the whole weekend for that."
"That's easy for you say Maia." This was a not too subtle dig at Maia's freer status and if she were being honest with herself, her freer attitude.
Maia let it pass. "Come on Rachel, it'll be fun."
Rachel started to weaken. "I don't know Maia. Where would we even go? We're too old for clubbing and I didn't do much of that when I was young".
"Well, in the first place we're not that old. I'm 31 and you're 2 years younger than me. Anyway, I heard of this place I want to try. It's supposed to be full of people our age or maybe a little bit older".
"Wait a minute, Maia. Are you looking to get laid?"
"Maybe. But mostly I'm looking for some excitement. I wanna think that there is somebody out there that wants to fuck me. I spend most of my time with a 5-year-old and a 7-year-old. Doesn't mean I'd actually do it. Come on Rach, say you'll come with me."
Rachel still hesitated. She wasn't convinced it would be fun for her or that she was necessary for Maia to have fun. "You're still an attractive woman, Maia. You've got that Asian-American look guys find exotic. You don't need me to hook up with some stud".
"Well, in the first place I have that Chinese, French and Irish exotic look and in the second place but oh, I do! Can you imagine how pathetic I'd look if I was sitting all alone at a table drinking my wine? I'd be that pathetic loser without a friend."
"So, you want me to be like, your wingman?"
"Exactly! Or maybe wingwoman."
Rachel was weakening. "What's the name of this place?"
"It's called the Silver Spur. I know it sounds like a shit-kicking place and that's not your favorite kind of music but it's supposed to be good."
"So, what's good about it?"
"Well to begin with, it's not wall to wall with televisions showing sports and on Fridays they have a live band. I'm sure they'll be playing cover tunes but that's okay, isn't it?"
Rachel knew she was going to lose this one. So, with a sigh Maia couldn't hear and a slump Maia couldn't see, Rachel said, "I guess."
"Yay! It'll be fun! And who knows maybe you'll find a stud to bring home too!"
Rachel rolled her eyes and said, "As if. I'm not looking to bring home a "stud" and if one happens to fall into my lap, I'm just going to tell him to get off."
Maia giggled and said, "You say that now but just wait. Anyway, I have to go find my sitter. How about we meet at the Silver Spur about 8:00? Do you know where it is?"
"I'll google it. 8:00 is fine."
______________ ________________ _________________
Rachel got home and knew she had plenty of time to grab a dinner before she had to get ready but apprehension and nerves killed most of her appetite. Instead, she made a cup of coffee and found some caramel corn.
She fed her cat Sherlock and then used this extra time to muse about the coming evening. Maia had said something like she wanted to know if she was fuckable. Rachel, for the first time in a long time, started to wonder about that too. She knew she was attractive, at least somewhat attractive, because people were always telling her so. Of course, this happened mostly at school functions - graduations and the like. And then she had an unsettling thought. "But who were these people? Mostly middle- aged men and women. Does their vote count?"
Rachel jumped in the shower and spent double her usual amount of time in the shower scrubbing and shampooing. She wanted to be squeaky clean.
She looked at her legs and muttered "That will not do". They were hairy. Rachel seldom shaved her legs. She wore pants most of the time to school and if no one is going to see your legs why worry about how hairy they are? She grabbed the shaving cream and a razor and went to work. But as she lathered her legs and started working the razor up the side of her calf, she felt a different feeling than she usually felt when she shaved. She enjoyed it. What was the difference? She knew the difference and the difference was this night her legs were going to be seen (and possibly felt) not by her co-workers but maybe a stranger, maybe a lover.
She finished her legs and gave them one last feel. Then she looked at her bush. It was going to need some work too. She had never trimmed her pussy except to get enough hairs that they wouldn't peek out from her swimsuit. "Hmm, what should I do?" She knew some girls were shaving them bald but she didn't want to go that far. She decided to trim her bush into a narrow band, a landing strip. She lathered herself up again and went back to work. She rinsed herself off with the hand-held shower in the bathtub and then walked over to the full- length mirror to examine the result. She smiled. "What do you think, Sherlock? I think it's pretty hot."
She wondered why she was going to such lengths. She'd already told Maia that she had no intention of allowing herself to be picked up. But the truth was, if it was the right guy she might. Or at any rate, maybe there would be a connection that she could follow up on.
How long had it been since she'd had sex? She started thinking and the more she thought the more disturbed she got. It was in March the year that she broke up with her last boyfriend. Oh, my gosh, it's been four years! She knew that it had been four years because it happened shortly after she had broken up with her boyfriend (actually he had broken up with her saying he was too young to be involved in a monogamous relationship) and, still bitter and sad, she had a one-night stand the following week. It was sad and unfulfilling. After that, she really lost interest in dating. Work kept her busy. There weren't any teachers she was interested in. A few of her students tried hitting on her but let's get real. Even if she were tempted, she wasn't about to lose her job over an 18-year-old. The days of abstinence turned into weeks, turned into years.
"Well Sherlock, it's time to forget the past, it's time to get dressed." She looked in her closet and nothing really grabbed her. "Whaddya think Sherlock? Should we go full country?" She found a plaid shirt, skinny jeans, boots and a scarf and threw them on the bed and looked at them. "I don't know Sherlock. It's just not me." Instead, she grabbed a simple knee length print dress. She had some four- inch heels but after putting them on thought, "Why did I ever buy these? They're awful!" She decided on her best running shoes. "After all," she thought, "it is still a bar."
Now dressed, hair and some modestly done make-up, she again walked over to her full-length mirror and assessed the woman standing in front of her. She did a half twirl. "You know what, Sherlock? I don't suck. My tits are still perky. Maybe not 18-year-old perky but still pretty good. I'm okay."
When Maia had first called, Rachel was really in no mood to go out. But now, she was starting to get excited about it. She thought it would probably be boring but who knows? It might be as fun and exciting as Maia thought it would be. "It's a fantasy. Kind of like buying a lottery ticket.
Rachel had bought a few lottery tickets and she never won big and when she had a winner, she usually she just "reinvested it". Intellectually, rationally, she knew that there was an almost zero chance of winning big. But she loved the daydream. "I know the first thing I would do if I won the lottery, Sherlock. I would take a nice, long vacation to some exotic place. Yeah, don't look at me that way. I know I've had vacations before."
Rachel, on her single income teacher's salary had been able to afford trips to Las Vegas and Cancun and once she took a Caribbean Cruise. They were nice.
"But Sherlock, they weren't exotic. I want to see London and Paris. I want to see the Pyramids of Egypt, the Great Wall of China, the Taj Mahal, the temples of Angkor Wat. Ooh, it makes me drool with want."
"Enough of this lottery fantasy, Sherlock, I gotta go. Be good while I'm gone."
___________________ _____________________ ________________
On the way to the bar Rachel started wondering about the night ahead. Maia wanted her to be her 'wing-woman". "What does that mean? Does she expect me to go home with whatever friend of the guy she picks up for herself? That's not gonna happen. Maia probably won't want to take a guy home to her place since she has her kids and the babysitter there. If the dude doesn't like his place does that mean Maia is going to want to use my place? We should have talked about this stuff."
Rachel wondered about the bar. Maia said she thought there would be a band. "Is there going to be line-dancing. God, I hope not. And if there is a chicken dance..." Rachel shuddered. "Someone starts chicken necking, I'm out the door."
Rachel parked the car and started walking towards the Silver Spur when she quickly spied Maia waiting outside. "Maia!"
"Rach!" They hugged and started walking toward the club. "So, Maia, did you have any trouble finding a babysitter?"
"No, I've got a regular girl- Janice. She's fifteen and she's a rock. She always makes herself available and the kids love her."
"You're really lucky then."
