you do live with him, right?”
Alaska casually puts her wine glass down and clears her throat. All talking in the room ceases. With a dismissive clap of her hands, Alaska takes control of matters. “Naomi wasn’t homeless. She does not live with Zeth. Zeth is massive. His dick is pretty fucking big, but not the biggest dick in the world. And now it’s time for you all to shut the hell up.” She looks sideways at me through partially narrowed eyes, and I can plainly see the displeasure within the cool blue recesses. “Regardless of what you have heard about Zee, he’s brought Naomi here as his partner, not as his blind.”
A chorus of unhappy gasps go around the room. They all seem horrified by this information, and I’m standing here gaping like an idiot because I don’t even know what it means. “His…his blind?”
Alaska rolls her eyes. “Like in poker. To be able to play, you have to bring something to the table. You have to buy your way into the game with a bet. A blind. We’re all blinds here, sweetheart. We get passed around like delicious little canapés in order for our masters to screw around with whoever else is brought in by the other men.”
That is…that’s awful! “But I’m Zeth’s partner so I won’t be passed around?” The girls hear the anxious note in my voice, and they don’t take it well.
“Trust me, honey. You’re the one who’s losing out,” Rollers says. “We make ten grand a pop for a night like tomorrow. What do you get? I bet Zeth Mayfair’s not bankrolling that kind of money for just one skinny bitch.”
“What? He’s not…he’s not paying me anything!”
That stuns them all into silence. They look at each other as though some wordless conversation is taking place and I’m the only one who can’t hear it. Alaska shoots me a smug smile, collecting her glass again and tipping it in my direction.
“And didn’t I tell you not to be an asshole to them?” She laughs at this, and then turns and leaves, singing under her breath.
******
It takes forever for the girls to get over the idea that I’m not a hooker. It takes even longer for them to forgive me for the disgusted tone in my voice when I’d exclaimed that Zeth didn’t pay me for my services. It’s only after the tequila starts flowing again that I manage to get any of them to talk to me, and that’s only by participating in three generously poured shots and whooping like a moron in the appropriate places. I skipped this part of college for a reason; I’m no good at being a girlie girl, and it really shows. It makes other girls nervous. Especially ones who paint each other’s toe nails and squeeze each other’s boobs to check out their ‘work’ without it being completely awkward. Rollers, who turns out to be called Dani, has a good handful of mine before I even realize what the hell is going on.
“Hmmm. Real, huh? They’re nice. Good size. Not too small, although your silhouette would look much better if you went up a couple sizes.”
“Yeah, I didn’t look right in my clothes before I got these,” Sara, the blonde who asked about Zeth first says, cupping her giant double Fs. They’re the biggest boobs I’ve ever seen. I’m half temped to tell her that the problem likely wasn’t her breast size and probably had more to do with the fact that she was wearing stripper clothes, but I manage to refrain. Won’t go down well, I can tell. Besides, I’m not here to talk about plastic surgery. I’m here to talk about Alexis. To find out where the hell she is.
The grooming part of the night begins soon after the fourth shot of tequila. Giant cosmetic kits come out, as big as workmen’s tool kits and just as heavy, and the girls begin to fuss over each other, giving advice on skin care and practicing the makeup they’re planning on wearing tomorrow night. The whole event thing has been a secondary consideration, always at the back of my mind, but now it’s come roaring to the forefront.
Alaska casually puts her wine glass down and clears her throat. All talking in the room ceases. With a dismissive clap of her hands, Alaska takes control of matters. “Naomi wasn’t homeless. She does not live with Zeth. Zeth is massive. His dick is pretty fucking big, but not the biggest dick in the world. And now it’s time for you all to shut the hell up.” She looks sideways at me through partially narrowed eyes, and I can plainly see the displeasure within the cool blue recesses. “Regardless of what you have heard about Zee, he’s brought Naomi here as his partner, not as his blind.”
A chorus of unhappy gasps go around the room. They all seem horrified by this information, and I’m standing here gaping like an idiot because I don’t even know what it means. “His…his blind?”
Alaska rolls her eyes. “Like in poker. To be able to play, you have to bring something to the table. You have to buy your way into the game with a bet. A blind. We’re all blinds here, sweetheart. We get passed around like delicious little canapés in order for our masters to screw around with whoever else is brought in by the other men.”
That is…that’s awful! “But I’m Zeth’s partner so I won’t be passed around?” The girls hear the anxious note in my voice, and they don’t take it well.
“Trust me, honey. You’re the one who’s losing out,” Rollers says. “We make ten grand a pop for a night like tomorrow. What do you get? I bet Zeth Mayfair’s not bankrolling that kind of money for just one skinny bitch.”
“What? He’s not…he’s not paying me anything!”
That stuns them all into silence. They look at each other as though some wordless conversation is taking place and I’m the only one who can’t hear it. Alaska shoots me a smug smile, collecting her glass again and tipping it in my direction.
“And didn’t I tell you not to be an asshole to them?” She laughs at this, and then turns and leaves, singing under her breath.
******
It takes forever for the girls to get over the idea that I’m not a hooker. It takes even longer for them to forgive me for the disgusted tone in my voice when I’d exclaimed that Zeth didn’t pay me for my services. It’s only after the tequila starts flowing again that I manage to get any of them to talk to me, and that’s only by participating in three generously poured shots and whooping like a moron in the appropriate places. I skipped this part of college for a reason; I’m no good at being a girlie girl, and it really shows. It makes other girls nervous. Especially ones who paint each other’s toe nails and squeeze each other’s boobs to check out their ‘work’ without it being completely awkward. Rollers, who turns out to be called Dani, has a good handful of mine before I even realize what the hell is going on.
“Hmmm. Real, huh? They’re nice. Good size. Not too small, although your silhouette would look much better if you went up a couple sizes.”
“Yeah, I didn’t look right in my clothes before I got these,” Sara, the blonde who asked about Zeth first says, cupping her giant double Fs. They’re the biggest boobs I’ve ever seen. I’m half temped to tell her that the problem likely wasn’t her breast size and probably had more to do with the fact that she was wearing stripper clothes, but I manage to refrain. Won’t go down well, I can tell. Besides, I’m not here to talk about plastic surgery. I’m here to talk about Alexis. To find out where the hell she is.
The grooming part of the night begins soon after the fourth shot of tequila. Giant cosmetic kits come out, as big as workmen’s tool kits and just as heavy, and the girls begin to fuss over each other, giving advice on skin care and practicing the makeup they’re planning on wearing tomorrow night. The whole event thing has been a secondary consideration, always at the back of my mind, but now it’s come roaring to the forefront.
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