Page 12 of Pierced

I laugh. As if. “Meet me at the office when you’re done and we’ll go over all the details.”

I leave and head back toward the printer’s. I’m eyeballing that community center lady a block away, but there’s no way to avoid her. The printer is right next to the dry cleaners, which is right next to the community center.

“Classes start—”

“I know,” I say, brushing past her to make for the printer’s door. “All ideas are welcome.”

“You got our email!” She beams, stepping forward to block my way.

“Yes, I got your spam. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“Have you ever thought about giving a class?”

“I don’t scrapbook, I’m sorry.”

“Not scrapbooking.” She laughs. “This is the TDH, ma’am. No one is scrapbooking at our community center.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what do you do in there?”

“Well.” She shrugs, pulling her coat tight around her body. The wind is biting today. They must be really hard up for new classes if she’s being forced to solicit people outside in the cold. “We have pole dancing, belly dancing, tantric yoga—”

“Really?” I ask.

“Yes. We’re a very progressive community center. We’re looking for new, innovative ideas. Something worthy of the young professional types around here. We had a woman sign up last week to teach submission.”

“Sub… like…” I lean forward and whisper, “BDSM?”

“Yes,” the bright-eyed do-gooder says. “Exactly like that. It’s called Subs for Hubs and it’s almost sold out.”

“Sold out? People want to do that?” I ask. “Cow down to a man?”

“Lots of people. Yes.”

“Hmmm.” I chuckle. “Interesting.”

“Do you want to take it?”

“Me? Submit?” I laugh. So much laughing today. “No. I do not submit to anyone.”

“Oh, right. I’m totally getting that vibe. Maybe you need a dominatrix class then?”

“Honey, I could teach the dominatrix class.”

“Great idea! Oh, that’s perfect. Wanna go inside and talk about a lesson plan?”

She just wants to get out of the cold, I get it. But… there’s some small, nostalgic part of me that kinda wants to go with her.

“No,” I say, refocusing on my task. “I’m planning a party and I’ve got a lot to do. Have a nice day.”

Inside the printer, Jeremy, the salesperson at the counter, is confused. “A Halloween invitation that has no Halloween elements? And something that says ‘masquerade’ but no gaudy Mardi Gras colors?”

“Why is this so hard? Yes. More like a wedding. Classy, you know.”

“Ah… right. Where is this party?”