I hate being the designated driver, and hate being such a pussy that I accept that once every few times it's gonna be my turn again. You have no control when you're sober, stuck doing whatever everyone else wants. Basically it means I stand around drinking orange juice and making small-talk, waiting for the night to end because I know you can't get some for yourself. Tonight was no different. There were about seven or so of us at this seedy dive in the middle of nowhere. I don't know whose fucking idea it'd been to go there, but I was pretty much stuck until Paul, Tom and his girlfriend Suzie wanted to go home. Paul was dressed like the dippiest shit for some reason or another, and so there was no way we'd get into any place with any real class anyway.
It was about 1am and I was sitting at our table, tossing cold chips into a half-empty beer glass in between watching the skanky talent on the floor. There was no way that some of that stuff was legal, but I had to appreciate it, for what it was worth.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and twisted to see Tom standing there, a little wasted but with that earnest expression of his.
"Hey, can you take Suzie home? She's... not feeling well."
I could see the tight little package that was Suzie standing near the door, arms crossed and looking pissed off as all hell. I knew she had an attitude, and I certainly wouldn't want to get on her bad side. I don't know how Tom handled her, especially with that evil eye of hers, but I bet that she spread those legs and used that cunt of hers to fuck like a goddamn jackrabbit. I looked back at Tom.
"And I suppose you want me to come all the way back here and pick you guys up later, take you back home like a good little delivery monkey?" I said, sweet as pie. It wasn't really a question.
"Nah, don't worry 'bout it," he said, missing the sarcasm, "Paul and me are gonna crash at Wes' joint. It's just near by here."
I turned back around and saw Paul and this guy Wes lining up at the bar. It all became clear. Suzie knew and couldn't stand Wes and there was no way she was going to spend even a single moment of time she didn't have to with him around, let alone crash at his house and have Tom try to give her a limp-dicked fuck on his floor in the middle of the night.
"Sure, I'll take her home then," I said, seizing the opportunity to get outta there. There were the usual heartfelt goodbyes and handshakes that only alcohol can produce before Suzie and I finally got outside. There were no clouds and it'd gotten chilly. Suzie was like a suppressed ball of anger. Her fists were clenched and she positively stalked to the car, those tight butt cheeks sliding across one another, hidden by only a few inches of white leather. The cold had made her tits quite perky, as I saw as I glanced over whenever we passed beneath a street light. Life has its little benefits.
We got in and strapped on our seatbelts. Hers ran over her chest, between those tits, making them look even more pronounced.
"Okay, so where do you live?" I asked her.
"You don't know where I live?" she said, doubtfully.
I shook my head. "No idea. Never been there." And to my surprise, instead of taking my head off, she laughed. It was the most unexpected and delightful thing I'd heard that night.
"It's okay. I'll show you the way," she laughed. "It's back that way. Do a u-turn and get onto the tollway." Great. I had to pay to take her home. But still, there was that laugh - and that body. My dodgy CD player finally found the track and began to play as we drove off.
We didn't speak for a few minutes before I noticed her kinda looking at me, considering me.
"What?" I asked
"Oh, nothing," she said, obviously not meaning what she said.
"No, really what?" I asked again.
"How come you never have a girlfriend?" she blurted.
"I do have girlfriends," I said defensively, "Just... infrequently and... not for any great length of time."
She laughed again and punched me in the shoulder. "You're funny. I like you."
