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I pinch the bridge of my nose in disgust. I’m going to leave. He thinks I’m a skanky hoe. Why wouldn’t he? I am. I can’t believe I acted that way. I have no idea what came over me. What in the world would possess me to come home and start dirty dancing in the kitchen?
I dry humped his fridge.
That’s it,—the decision has been taken out of my hands. I have to leave. I want Emerson to come over and get me tonight. I can’t pack up all my stuff and do this alone, so I dial her number.
“Oh, hell, I’m dying over here,” she answers roughly.
“Yeah, well, you and me both. Great idea drinking cocktails, Einstein. I need you to come over here tonight and help me move my stuff. I’m resigning.”
She sighs. “What now? I’m too ill for dramatics today.”
“Apparently, I dry humped Mr. Masters fucking refrigerator last night when I got home, and I was dancing around like a hooker and coming onto him. The worst part is that I can’t even remember it.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I had a slut brain snap and…” I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. “I don’t know what the hell was going through my thick head.”
She lets out a shocked chuckle. “Are you joking me?”
“I wish.”
“Oh God.” She pauses for a moment. “What the hell did you do?”
I close my eyes, because it’s mortifying to say it out loud. “I told him his pajamas were cutie patootie pajamas.”
She bursts out laughing. “What? Cutie Patootie? Who says cutie patootie?”
I find myself smiling. She’s right, this really is unbelievable. “And then I dry humped his fridge and started licking scotch off my fingers or something. After that, I came on to him.”
“Jesus. You must be hanging for it.” She thinks for a moment. “Did you have sex?”
I cringe. “No, idiot! He hates me.”
“Oh, bullshit. He was probably loving every minute of it. There isn’t a man alive who could watch you dry hump a fridge and not get aroused.”
“You’re not helping!”
“Did you ask him to have sex?”
I scowl and wrinkle my nose. What if I did? “I can’t stay here. I’m so embarrassed, you have no idea.”
“Well, what did he say to you?”
“He told me off using all these intelligent words I hardly understood, and then he said that I should stick to the position I applied for because the hooker position in his bed, on my back, isn’t available.”
She stays silent.
“Are you still there?” I snap.
“Yeah, the hooker in his bed bit threw me. That’s a kind of hot thing to say, you know? Do you reckon he has hookers in his bed for real?”
“No!” I shriek. “He’s probably fucking gay. Get me out of here!”
“Calm down. We’ll find you another job. Just hang in there for another week or two. Anyway, doesn’t he go away this week?”
“Yeah, on Wednesday.”
“Well then, you won’t even see him.”
