Wrote this for a friend over MSN. We were talking about her picking up a summer fling at a bar... comments from her below haha
Summer Fling
It was a quiet night in a quiet bar. John had just been lamenting the emergence of a solitary mole at the tip of his nose. It was, in fact, what led him to a quiet drink in a quiet pub at the edge of town.
"Perhaps," he thought, "the alcohol can drown the mole. I think moles drown in alcohol. Or maybe they don't..." The bartender peered at him quizzically, and john realised had been talking out loud.
At that very moment, the door of the bar creaked open slowly. He could make out a figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the lights of the night. The figure was a woman, holding what looked like a club.
"Good gawd, i'm drinking too much," he thought.
The silhouette figure walked slowly into the bar. She looked like a predator sniffing for prey, eyes darting to and fro, with the focus of a lion searching for his food. A flash of headlights poured in through the window and caught on her face, and John gasped.
"She... she... she has a mole... Just... like... mine..."
The tears welled up in john's eyes, but by that time the Woman with the Mole had reached the John's stool.
John was trembling both in fear and in awe, because while he had finally found someone with a mole as big as his, this person he found was holding what looked like a club surprisingly close to his face. John wondered if she was going to murder him, or squish his mole.
Suddenly, without warning, his face was flooded with the brightest light he had ever seen. Bright sparks of torchlight pierced into his eyeballs as the woman gripped him with fingers of steel.
"You. I'm checking for moles." Her voice was unnervingly sweet.
"Wh..What?"
"You heard me. I want my summer fling to have a mole... and wait a minute..."
The Woman with the Mole pulled John closer, much closer, and suddenly peered straight into his nostrils.
"No nose hair. Good. A sign of fertility. Come. You meet the requirements. Got mole. No nose hair. Faster fling with me."
John was speechless and didn't have time to resist before the woman suddenly grabbed his hands.
"Did your mummy tell you? People with moles normally have sweaty palms. I want to make sure you have no sweaty palms. I'm scared of sweaty palms. Are you scared of sweaty palms? I'm scared of sweaty palms."
By this time John was fearing his life. This woman was obviously insane, but suddenly an idea crystallized in John's mind. In the darkness his free hand reached for the glass of vodka and tipped it over so some spilled on his hand. My move, he thought.
John leaned close to this woman, close enough that his lips nearly touched her ear.
He whispered, "You're gorgeous. I hear that people with moles make good flings. Sure, let's fling together."
His free hand was creeping up to the woman's face in a way that would make her believe that he was about to, perhaps, stroke her face, or her hair.
"Yes, my man, let's fling togeth-"
Suddenly John's free hand pressed fully onto the woman's face, smearing it completely with vodka, surprising her completely. The woman shrieked and jumped away.
"Sorry darling, I forgot to tell you that my palms are sweaty, and my sweat smells like vodka."
He offered her the glass, "want some?"
- the end -
comments over MSN:
(name removed) says:
(I WANT SHOULDER LENGTH WAVY HAIR, WITH STREAKS OF GOLD )
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(save this convo k. upload to ur blog...i can forsee it'd make it big next time )
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(SHINE THE TORCH UP HIS NOSE I WANT TO CHECK FOR LONG NOSE HAIR )
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(if it's too long, CUT )
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(CHECK PALMS CANNOT HAVE SWEATY PALMS )
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eeeks. vodka. i hate vodka
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sounds...suspicious
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please have good ending k
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HOW CAN U SIDE THE GUY
:)