*Door unlocks*
"I just don't know what the right option is going to be. Can I afford it?.. Yes, most months. Do I want to scrape by? No. Do I want roommates, fuck no. Do I want to downsize, sell my home and find something else? Fuck no. I love my house and it's in a great location that's just going to increase in value. Do I need help with the bills so that I don't have to scrape by, fuck yes. UGHHH I just wished this bullshit never happened in the first place". I said annoyingly as I dropped my keys upon unlocking my front door and walking in.
"Fuck it, just try it get back with your Ex. I mean he was fucking hot and had a huge dick, from what you tell me, so why not? Just get over the military mindset and aggression and you'll be good."
Trish laughed on the other side of the call. "I mean, he was a good lay, you'd brag about it all of the time Luce." Bending down to pick my keys off the ground, I threw them and my purse to the side of the hall tree behind my door, kicking off my heels.
"I'm not going to go over this again, Trish," I said in a huff as I took my hair out of its bun. "We just in the end...felt nothing towards each other. There's nothing there anymore and he's moved overseas with his new woman-child person-thing." I scoffed.
"FINE FINE FINE. I wished I could have seen this monster penis of his before it ended" she retorted sarcastically.
"You're such a slut, you know this right?" I asked.
"Ha! I know, but man am I always satisfied." She laughed before asking, "Have you thought about maybe becoming an AirBnB?"
"Nooo,'' I said confusedly.
A brief silence followed "....you don't even know what an AirBnB is, do you?" She asked with a child-like laugh behind her voice.
"I mean, not really? I know BnB is a bed and breakfast, right?" I answered.
"Exactly!" she exclaimed. "Except, you don't gotta give them breakfast. People go online, or through the Airbnb app, request a reservation on a certain day, you decide to approve it or not, and BOOM! Moolah in the Pantalones'' She said, sounding like an absolute idiot.
"I mean, I'm sure there are fucked regulations to follow, amenities that are required, safety revisions I'd have to make, and blah blah blah. And...what the fuck would I even charge for a night's stay? Plus! Who is going to clean up after these people when they leave? Do I need to entertain them? How would I stay safe in case some creeper decides that he wants a little more than just a room for the night? How safe is this?" I said as I walked into my bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror, and reaching for my makeup wipes.
"It's the number one rated company for this. You set the prices. You decide what is and isn't included. I have no idea if there are laws as to what you are required to provide or not. But most importantly, you get to decide who does or doesn't get to stay. Get a weird vibe when reviewing the reservation? Deny it." Trish paused as she took a drink of what was most likely a glass of wine.
"Plus, you can set cleaning fees that are basically just additional costs you charge for every guest to clean up afterward. AND..OH..just like they can review or rate you and your Airbnb stay, you can rate them as a client. Meaning, these creepers you're worried about - probably have ZERO reviews" she emphasized.
"Or if they have a very bad rating. Fuck, you can even decide to only let families or women stay if you wanted, Luce" She added.
"I don't know, you're making my head hurt. I just got done with work, I had to show 5 houses to this one incredibly picky couple, just to have them make ZERO offers. My feet hurt, my back hurts from driving all day and I just wanna not think about shit like this anymore." Throwing my wipe in the trash and sliding my skirt down and over my hips.
"Fine, I was just throwing some options out there. ANNNNNNYYY ways, it's Friday. What are you going to do tonight, hmmm?" She asked with a tone that I just KNEW meant an invitation out to some club or bar was going to follow.
Trish loved to go out on Friday nights and just get blitzed out of her mind, find a somewhat cute guy, leave with him and then call me up for Bagels or Denny's in the morning to brag or complain about her midnight conquests.
"Ugh. Don't even, I just said everything hurts and all I want to do is lounge in my sweats, watch some trashy reality show and do nothing all night." I replied.
"You're going to get so fat doing that every weekend. COME ONNNN! It's been like a month since you came out with me and even then, you stayed for 2 drinks and left super early" she said in her child-like begging voice.
"Look, I'm just not really up for going out, drinking, getting hit on by losers, and watching you disappear into the night with today's dick," I complained.
"Fuck you Luce" She retorted.
"Fuck you, Trish!" I yelled back.
Trish paused for a minute before saying anything. "Look...tonight will be the same but different. Yes, we will go out, drink for free - hopefully till we are drunk - dance the night away. Get some greasy grub on the way home, and then call it a night. Oh, and the best part, my friend Katrina from work is coming. I'm driving her there so I won't be leaving for the first swinging dick I see." She said excitedly, completely ignoring how she just called herself a slut.
"Who is Katrina?" I asked, slipping my comfy soft sweats on and taking off my blouse.
"She's a client of mine. She's this really cute Hispanic chick with big boobs and a sexy accent. She's a little younger than us but we have the best convos at work. Besides your boring ass, I don't have many friends any more and I think me and her, hell even YOU, could all be good friends." Trish replied. "PLEASE LUCE, please please please come out tonight. I promise if it isn't fun, you can go home and I won't even give you shit about it tomorrow. I'll even buy your drinks until the losers start buying them for you." She begged me in her 'I'm cute and annoying' whiny voice.
"What makes you think guys will even buy me drinks? They usually just hit on me. I haven't gotten a free drink in forever" I replied.
"Maybe, and I'm just gonna throw this out there, but just maybe if you dressed a little sexy and interacted with a little less fuck you written across your forehead, you'll get drunk for free." She argued.
After a few seconds of silence, as I put my phone down and slipped on my torn, yet comfy, Beastie Boys shirt, I replied, "Fine."
"Fine, what?" She replied with what sounded like a grin on her face.
"Fine, I'll go out tonight. But the moment I feel like a third wheel, feel gross from who is hitting on me, or just overall bored. I'm out, you got it? No trying to convince me to stay. I'm O-U-T, out. Deal?"
"Deal!" She yelled emphatically.
"Where are going and when?" I asked begrudgingly.
"The Lazy Turtle, off of the corner of MacClintock and McKellips, and 8/8:30 is when I and Trina are going to be there, '' she replied.
"So what, in 2 hours?" I asked.
"Basically, but don't be a lame bitch and show up at 9. Let's pregame like back in college." She giggled in her response.
"Trish, we're in our early 30's, we're not 19 anymore," I remarked.
"Well, I mean, in age yea but who gives a fuck? Act young stay young!" She laughed.
"Whatever, I'll see you there at 8:30," I replied.
"Yay!! Don't bail again or we'll come and drag you out of your house. Bye bitch, love you. See you there." She said as she hung up before I could respond.
Looking at myself in the mirror I was annoyed. I just got into my comfy clothes and now I have to dress up and put my makeup back on. How does Trish always seem to convince me to do this shit?
Trish and I had been friends since middle school. She was a bit shorter than me at 5'4, a bit pudgier but I wouldn't say fat, she's thicc. She was blonde with brown eyes and was really pretty. She had some pretty big breasts, her most prominent features, and always dressed to flaunt them. She had an okay butt for someone who never works out, but if she ever did decide to put in any effort at the gym, she'd be an easy bombshell. Trish was a bit of a slut, always had been, and honestly always will be. I couldn't imagine her settling down, but if she did, she'd either cheat and end it, or they'd have to have an open/swinger relationship. She just loves hooking up with random guys almost weekly.
Me, on the other hand, I was a brunette with hazel eyes. I always got complimented on my eyes and my ass until I finally sprouted in college and grew some tits of my own. I was taller, 5'8, and have been pretty athletic my whole life. I played soccer, volleyball, basketball, and tennis, so my ass was really firm and just got bigger as I got older. It's what attracted my husband initially until he saw me naked and saw my 36 C's that I don't often show off. They're not small but compared to Trish's 42 DDs, they are tiny. I wasn't a prude, but I do have high standards. I liked tall men with blue eyes, who were athletic and had goals. That was a lot harder to find than you'd think.
But, she was my best friend and she was always there for me. Trish was a Beautician and had been since she was 24. She dropped out of ASU in her second year after her grades dropped from incessant partying and not doing her homework. Her parents kicked her out shortly after she dropped out and then she and I got an apartment together. I graduated with a Bachelor's in Business and Real Estate. Even after dropping out and getting kicked out, Trish did not stop partying. She quickly turned our apartment into the weekly drop spot. While this was annoying, she always cleaned up after each party, and one of these parties was where I met my ex-husband Chris.
He was, and still is I'll admit, a very good-looking Texan, who had a very soft personality and was patient and polite. He too dropped out of ASU after discovering he was destined to be in the Marines. After dating for 8 months we got married and lived happily until he got deployed. That's when things shifted. After every return from deployment, he was a little more agitated. A little cruder. A little more aggressive. And our relationship, little by little, just deteriorated until we officially got divorced 6 years later. It has been almost a year since we signed the papers and he has been gone from my life.
We did fuck one more time and it was probably the best sex we ever had. All the pent-up aggression just came out into one violently amazing night. We slapped, fought, cursed, pushed, wrestled, and just fucked like we were going to be dead tomorrow. But - when I woke up, he was gone and I had to move on.
I decided to take a shower before getting ready. I shed my comfy clothes, regrettably, and hopped into the warm water. I avoided my hair to avoid spending a good chunk of the time I had re-doing it.
