This story was written for the
750 Word Project 2025
, below this line are exactly 750 words:
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I approached Maureen, calling her name. She spun around, saying, "Jim, what are you doing here?"
I took in the makeup, long eyelashes, platform shoes, with the uber-mini skirt and tube top that seemed to be her only clothing. "I came to find out what you're doing here."
From behind me, a deep unfriendly voice said, "Hey, no talking to the girls. They've business to attend to."
I saw that the voice was coming from a casting call pimp. I pulled out a hundred, saying, "Will this buy 5 minutes?"
The pimp took the bill and checked it out. "Yeah, but later. Wait in the bar there. I'll send her when it gets slow." Then he shoved my ex-wife towards the curb, ordering, "Sell it baby."
I sat in the bar. A pretty waitress, probably past 40, came for my order. She brought back the beer and asked, "Haven't seen you here before."
"No, never been here. Not my kind of place." I replied.
That got her dander up. "What? Not good enough for you?"
"No," I hurried to assure her. "Seems like a nice place, but I'm more of a piano bar kind of guy."
She smiled, "Me, too, when I'm off." I smiled back at her, but she was called away. It was a nice view, so when she looked back, I was still watching.
Although the place was busy, Jo the waitress found time to chat with me. We talked music, restaurants, and movies. I knew she was waiting for me to ask her out. I considered it.
Then Maureen came and sat down at my table. Jo approached with a dirty look on her face. "So, you're one of them." I almost expected her to spit on me.
I shook my head. "No, I'm just the ex."
Jo looked surprised. Then she said, "Desiree, you're stupider than I thought." Then she shook her head at me and walked away.
"Desiree?"
"That's the name Allister wants me to use on the street." My wife, embarrassed, stared at her hands.