So its Christmas Eve and I am drinking alone in a hotel room after visiting my parents. For some reason I am convinced its a good idea to post my first story ever. Sincere apologies to William Burroughs who's heartwarming tale of Danny the Car Wiper inspired this sloppily edited piece of dubious writing. Enjoy :/
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It was Christmas Day and Miranda the Slut left her parents house alone and more than a little dejected after an entire day of enforced holiday cheer. The night was clear and still but there was a bite to the air. Miranda pulled the fake fur collar of her coat closer around her neck and clicked her way past a gauntlet of wreaths and twinkling lights as fast as her high heels could carry her.
She grabbed a cab in from at the next corner and gave the driver her address.
It really was irritating, the way they heaped all that unasked for pity on her. Sure she was alone and childless but she liked it that way, better than the alternative anyway. Her sisters just couldn't get it through their heads that the thought of someone like sweet, pudgy Greg or sweeter and even pudgier Anton spooning her night after dreary night for the rest of her life made her shudder.
All the same, she admitted to herself, out here in the night being whisked by glowing window after glowing window it was hard not to feel a tiny twinge of loneliness.
What I need is a good fuck, she thought.
She looked up and caught the driver's glance in the rearview mirror. He was an older man with a thick head of curly hair a little doughy around the chin but still handsome. There was a hint of a lear in the way those glossy brown eyes fixed themselves on her for just a moment.
I wonder what he would do if I offered him a blowjob for a tip, Miranda smiled to herself.
As if he has heard her the man's lear quickly turned to disdain. Asshole. He probably had a dumpling of a wife at home, a good woman who dutifully lay under him like a sack of potatoes. He let her off in front of her townhouse and she gave him a tip just big enough to assert her financial dominance. Snow was coming down and the only living thing in sight was her.
She looked up at her bedroom window. It stared back down at her like a dead eye. Instead of going up, she turned and walked down the street to Baba Yaga's.
Thankfully it was open, though less populated than she had been hoping. There were only four people in the whole place including the bartender. They all looked up at her as she opened the door briefly letting the cold in with her.
She took a seat at the bar and scanned the room to get a better look at who else was there. The results were disappointing. There was one very young couple sitting together in a corner sharing some sort of festive punch for two. Their heads were touching as they whispered something private to each other. The only other customer was an older man with a damp ponytail and a pilled sweater who was trying to chat up the stocky lesbian mixing drinks behind the bar. He had a serious looking book beside him that he kept touching as he talked.
Miranda ordered a martini with extra olives and tried to ignore the man with the ponytail who had noticed her, of course, and was giving her the eye in an unpleasant way. She was not that desperate. Not yet anyway.
"Pretty dead tonight," she remarked to the bartender.
"Tell me about it. I don't even know why we're open. Shitty tips and I'm missing my girlfriend's famous vegan roast turkey."
"I hope that tastes better than it sounds."
The bartender laughed. "Better than a can of ravioli in front of the TV which used to be my go to holiday feast."
Sure. Sure. Relationships better than being alone. She got it. She scrolled through her contacts wondering which of her exes she could talk into coming down for a drink or two. There was Alex but knowing him he was already a few beers beyond being of use in the penis department. Besides, she remembered his hygiene not being the best. Liam had been a bad breakup. He had called her a cold hearted bitch and threatened to post naked pictures of her on the internet.
There was Tom. He was never a boyfriend, just a friend with benefits. She hadn't seen him since the summer but he shared her disdain for all things family related so the chances of him being alone right now were high. He was also a bit of a gym rat. Miranda's vaginal muscles gave an involuntary squeeze of anticipation as she remembered what he could do with those well developed abs.
Hey, she texted her number
Hey, he replied after what seemed like an eternity.
What are you up to?
Christmas stuff. I'm at the sister's trying to stuff down some desert she spent three days making.
Really? I thought you hated that shit.
Yeah...well the girlfriend insisted. I think it was just morbid curiosity.
Girlfriend!? Fuck. Were there no single people left in the city?
You have a girlfriend? How did that happen?
I'm not really sure. I guess she just woke up in my bed one time too many. To tell you the truth I'm kind of liking it.
What about you? Tom's next message popped up after a long pause
Just having a few drinks with some friends. And drunk texting everyone I know to wish them a merry Christmas, she lied.
Ha ha! Well thanks. I'll call you after the holidays. You can meet Sarah. We'll go for dim sum at that place you were always talking about.
Sure. Sounds great. Happy New Year.
Thanks. You too.
Miranda ordered another drink and sat there staring at her phone. It lay on the bar like a dead bird. This was the worst Christmas ever.
Another rush of cold air made everyone turn towards the door again. This time it was a man. He was a little older, maybe in his early fifties but hot, like a Santa who spent three hundred and sixty four days of the year bench pressing reindeer. He took off his cashmere coat and tossed it casually on the bar two seats down from Miranda. He ordered a whisky, the good kind.
There was a mirror running the length of the back counter which provided a perfect opportunity for eyes to casually meet. It was not long before hot Santa caught Miranda looking at him.
"God, is there anything more depressing than a bar on Christmas?" he said giving her a rueful smile.
"I'm sure there is somewhere in the world but right now I'm drawing a blank."
He slid over to sit next to her.
He introduced himself as James. It appeared the whiskey he was drinking was not his first of the evening which made him only slightly less intimidating. Miranda felt a sharp tug somewhere deep inside her as for some inexplicable reason she suddenly imagined him pulling her over his knee and spanking her.
"Would you be offended if I bought you a drink?" he asked.
