“…so then, he scoops one big hairy arm under me, sticks his thumb in my pussy, 2 fingers up my ass, sticks his other hand under my back, and picks me up like my taint is a goddamn handle.” She paused to shuffle her spearmint chewing gum, long since flavorless, from 1 side of her mouth to the other. “Then he shoves his face in my tits and starts rubbing it around,” as a visual aid, she shoved her cleavage out and shook her own head. First she brushed her bottle-red hair back from her shoulders to better accentuate the gold and black spotted, low cut, sleeveless ‘top’ that clung to her pale, mottled flesh. Her long, slender nose waggled, just a little at the tip, as her head shook inside her own, imaginary breasts.
“Now I told you already how hairy he was, and he had that big scraggly beard, well this was just scratching the hell out of my nipples. So I squealed, just a little. He musta thought that was encouragement, cause next thing I know, he’s biting my tit. Can you believe that shit? He bit my tit!
“Well there are some things I do not do. So I push him back and slap his hairy face. Only thing is, I’m still hanging there in mid air with his hand up my hooch. Son of a bitch drops me. Bam!” She slams her hand on the desk, demonstrating the impact. “Right on the hard wood floors. Thought I broke my fuckin’ ass.
“Does he apologize? No he starts cursing at me in Russian or Latonian, or some shit, for slapping him. He’s standing there, holding his cheek and yelling, like I could hurt him. But he don’t know that his finger has shit all over it from being up my ass all that time. If he had asked, I’d have told him I had to go the bathroom, but he’s all Carpe Diem all the time.
“So now I got this short, naked, hairy, pot bellied, middle aged, Russian yelling shit at me I don’t understand with a big streak of shit across his cheek. I start laughing. He looks in the mirror to see whats so funny, realizes what’s happened, and freaks the fuck out. He jumps for his pants, pulls out a knife, and charges me.
“So that’s when I reached under the bed, pulled out my husband’s pistol, and killed the bastard. Bam, bam, bam 3 in the chest, just like my honey taught me.” She reached into her red, pleather purse, pulled out a fresh piece of gum, used the wrapped to spit the old gum into and began working on the new one.
Across the table from her, 3 young women sat, jaws agape. She shifted in her chair wagged 1 finger and added, wisely, “And that is why you should always go to the bathroom before going on a date.”
A loud, stern knock on the door disturbed the awkward silence that had overtaken the room. “Sherri Dugan, this is the CCPD, open up please.”