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Author's Note:
I realize that it's been a while since I've posted anything or been active on the site, but hey, what can I say? I've this and one other to leave for your perusal. No promises of when, but I'll have more again, sometime. Everyone's over eighteen and the story is entirely fictional, as are the towns mentioned in Ohio. I understand that it's long, but I didn't want to post it in segments, so hang in there. Thanks for reading - Tyzmartar */
"Tina, you ought to let me give you a ride home."
"Listen, Chris, you know I have a boyfriend. Just drop it. I only live five blocks away and I can make it there just fine."
Tina wasn't necessarily a bitch, but she seemed most of the way there sometimes. She was a pretty good looking young woman, and she knew it. It was her vanity that was causing her to believe that Chris was hitting on her. Though he certainly thought that the girl was attractive, getting in her pants wasn't his motivation for wanting to walk her home.
"I'm not trying to get a date. I'm just worried about you, five blocks is five blocks. You ought to hear some of the things that those guys out there say about you. Why don't you give your boyfriend a call and have him come pick you up? At least on the weekends like this. Half of those drunk-asses that you served tonight can't think straight, and I don't trust them."
Chris and Tina worked in a small restaurant called Whitmore's. It wasn't fancy, but it was popular, considering it was was still open after the bars had closed. The hours led to a fair amount of business as well as a building full of drunks at two in the morning. There were three waitresses, a cook, a dishwasher/busboy, and a manager. They had the place cleaned up and buttoned down, ready to call it a night.
"I'm not calling Luke to come get me. If I wake him up, he'll be mad. Besides, it only takes a few minutes to walk home. Relax, would ya? Why don't you give Erin a ride home? Maybe if she got laid once in a while she wouldn't be in such a bad mood all the time."
Chris thought it somewhat amusing that Tina assumed that just because you get a ride home with some guy that a woman was indebted to have sex with him. He just shook his head and gave in.
"Fine, go get raped, kidnapped, murdered, whatever. Don't say I didn't warn ya."
"Oh my god! Are you my mother or what?" Tina responded, thrusting a small wad of bills into his hand. Chris, being the busboy, made a percentage of her tips. "Later." She took off out of the break room, nearly running over Erin and Cindy, the other two waitresses.
Chris counted his money and received his take from the other two. He frowned in disappointment. "Twelve bucks, Erin? Sixteen, Cindy? Tina gave me like thirty."
"Yeah, well, I don't rub my boobs on people and dress like a total whore," Erin replied.
Chris and Cindy laughed. "Whatever the reason, you two ladies need to step it up. I can't pay for my Grandma's kidney transplant with this," he said. Cindy stopped laughing.
"We're on the top step already. If you need money that bad, we could always cut
your
kidney out and sell it," Cindy suggested.
Chris raised his eyebrows and feigned shock. "Well, if you put it that way, I guess you guys did fine. I'll tell Gramma that it's just her time. Let me walk you out to the parking lot. I haven't liked the look of the crowd out there lately."
Whitmore's wasn't located in the brightest part of town. Unlike Tina, Erin and Cindy were aware of the dangers of a lone woman out at night. The chances of getting killed on their way to their cars seemed slim, but they still thought it was kind of nice that Chris always walked them out.
"I wish Tina would let me give her a ride home. I don't think it's safe for her to walk, especially at night. She seems to think that all I want to do is have sex with her, though," he told the women as they walked to the lot.
"And you wouldn't?" Cindy asked, with a smirk.
"Uh, she's not really my type," he replied.
"Oh, so clueless sluts aren't your type? I didn't think it got any easier than that," Erin commented.
"Don't get me wrong, I like clueless sluts just as much as the next guy. I don't think Tina's really a slut, but she is clueless sometimes. That's why I'm worried about her. You guys ought to ease up, she's not that bad."
Cindy and Erin had worked with Chris for quite a long time, Tina was somewhat of a new recruit. The waitress before her had moved on to greener pastures. They didn't seem as eager to warm up to the new girl as Chris was.
"You're probably right, but she rubs me the wrong way. See you guys tomorrow?"
The three of them parted ways and left in their respective vehicles. Chris drove back to his apartment that he shared with his sister. Her car was in the lot and he had talked to her earlier on the phone, so that he knew that she was home, safe and sound. She did the same thing every day.
One of the reasons that Chris was so protective of the women that he worked with was because of his sister. When she was younger, in her late teens, she was attacked while walking home from a friend's house late at night. She had never been the same since the incident, not that anyone would blame her. Since their parents had passed away and she didn't want to live alone, she had moved in with Chris. These days, they were both in their late twenties, Carrie a year older than her brother.
Even though it was pushing four in the morning by the time Chris let himself into the apartment, Carrie was up waiting for him. She usually was. Carrie worked evenings keeping the books for a rather large department store and tried to keep the same hours that her brother did. They still didn't get to spend much time together, though. Chris worked during the day in the office of a company that sold electronic components. He was saving up for his dream of buying a place out in the country. They were actually getting close to being able to swing it. They had talked about it a lot, Carrie seemed to be on board with the idea. She liked the city even less than he did.
Carrie smiled up at her brother from her perch on the couch. She was a pretty woman, even if she did have a purplish, lightning-bolt shaped scar running the length of her left cheek. "I made some popcorn, if you want some. I'm watching a show about strawberries." One thing about four in the morning, there wasn't much on television. "I was thinking it would be nice if we could grow some when we move."
Chris kicked off his shoes and joined his sister on the couch. "Strawberries, huh? I've never been a big strawberry guy, really. I was thinking maybe some potatoes and corn. Have like a real garden, you know?" He reached into the popcorn bowl and grabbed a handful.
"That sounds nice," Carrie agreed. "You know what I'm looking most forward to, though? A yard. Nice grass that we can mow and walk around in without our shoes on. I want to feel it tickle my toes." "I can tickle your toes," Chris said. He grabbed one of his sister's feet and began to tickle unmercifully, spilling a fair amount of popcorn in the process. Carrie howled with forced laughter.
"Stop it, you ass! Stop, stop, you know I can't take it!"
"I thought that's what you wanted. Just pretend that you're walking through our new yard," Chris said through his gritted teeth. It was taking a fair amount of effort to keep hold of his sister's leg. She was stronger than she looked. He made the mistake of letting up for an instant and Carrie was able to wiggle free. With some sort of a mixed-martial arts move, she had Chris flipped over on the floor with his arm pinned behind his back. He groaned with discomfort as she held him down. It was only a matter of seconds before he was tapping out frantically. All those self-defense classes had clearly paid off.
"Did you learn your lesson, yet?" she asked into his ear. She had stopped breaking his arm but was still laying on his back.
"Probably not, but do you think you could let me up?"
"I don't know, it's kind of comfy laying here," she replied.
"You can lay on me all you want, but let's get off the floor. It's hard, and someone spilled popcorn all over it."
Carrie sighed as she rolled off his back and onto her feet. "Yeah, I wonder whose fault that was. I'll get the broom."
After the popcorn was cleaned up, the two were back on the couch to catch the rest of the strawberry documentary. Carrie was leaning heavily on her brother, her head on his shoulder.
