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“Um…” Indy mumbled.
The woman looked at me.
“She don’t remember me,” she said.
I stared.
Guess I was wrong about the big, dangerous night out with the girls.
She turned back to Indy. “Few months ago, you stun-gunned me.”
Daisy, Ally and I looked at Indy. Indy’s face registered recognition.
“Uh-oh,” Ally mumbled.
“Uh-oh is right, bee-atch,” the woman said, not taking her eyes off Indy.
The negative power force enveloping us ratcheted up a notch.
“Who you callin’ a bee-atch?” Ally asked, hand going to hip.
Okay, so we’d reached ground zero in a serious Holy Shit Situation.
The woman moved into Ally’s space. “I’m calling you a bee-atch, bee-atch.”
I was thinking that wasn’t the right answer.
“Why don’t I get you a drink?” I put in, trying to defuse the Holy Shit Situation.
“Don’t want a drink,” she answered, not looking at me. “Ain’t no one disrespectin’me. You hear what I’m sayin’?” Her ringlets were bouncing around while she was shaking her head and I didn’t take this as a good sign.
“I’m not the one who charged over here, getting into people’s faces.That’sdisrespect.Youhear whatI’msayin’?” Ally flashed back, hair bobbing around her head and somehow the Holy Shit Situation escalated.
“Ladies,” I tried to cut in just as the woman’s fist came forward in a jab.
I ducked. She missed me and hit Daisy right in the eye.
I rose up and stared.
Daisy staggered back a step on her rhinestone encrusted, ice-blue, platform go-aheads.
Then she steadied herself.
“Uh-oh,” Indy, Ally and I said in unison.
Then Daisy pounced.
It was fair to say at that juncture that mayhem ensued.
Ally jumped on the pile of arms and legs on the floor, which consisted of a rolling Daisy and the black lady. The black lady’s friend came up and shoved Indy and they got in a tussle. Other people either watched or thought it might be fun to join in and started shoving and punching each other. I stood in the middle of it all, opened my purse, pulled out my stun gun and switched it on. It started crackling and hissing, which I figured meant it was ready to roll.
I wasn’t wrong.
I leaned over and touched it to black lady number one. She let out a squeak and went slack. Then I touched it to black lady number two with the same result, except she was standing and she hit the ground like a dead weight.
I looked at the stun gun then looked at Indy.
“Rock ’n’ roll!” Indy shouted, putting her arms up, forefinger and pinkie extended in the famous rock ’n’ roll double devil’s horns.
