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Maybe, I’ll grow some bigger balls—metaphorically speaking. My balls are lovely as they are. Secretly, and for your ears—or rather, pages—only, my plan is to raise my self-esteem then give Kurt a call. It’s a terrifying prospect since I’ll have to come clean about what an idiot I was, but the thought has been planted. Whether I act on it or not remains to be seen.
Wish me luck, Dear Diary. I shall need it!
As always, thank you for lending an ear… or a page to be more accurate.
xoxo Johnson Jones
“You look fabulous, Johnson,” Helen said, dancing around my living room.
“I don’t know,” I said, assessing my reflection in the full-length mirror. “Does this make me look too butch?”
Helen eyed me from head to toe then shook her head and smiled. “Nope. It’s perfect.”
Helen had no fashion sense whatsoever, but she was a wonderful cheerleader. Having her with me was such a comfort. The rest of our buds were off having their own thrilling adventures. My sister from another mister, Swoosie, had been devastated to miss my big show, but my werewolf BFF was in Hell. Literally. She’d married Chance the demon, who happened to be the grandson of Satan. The Devil himself had insisted they join him on a cruise down the River Styx. Swoosie had been very vocally appalled. Her salty language upon learning of the boating excursion would have put a sailor to shame. However, one did not say no to the Lord of the Underworld. We’d filmed the fashion show and would view it with our peeps when they got home.
But back to me. I’d paired a knee-length caftan with skinny jeans and flats. I didn’t want it to look like I was trying too hard. Plus, I wanted to be me. I was a caftan-wearing wizard. Of that, I was proud.
“Should I drive or take the train?” I asked.
“Neither,” Helen said with a giggle. “I hired a car service for you! Parking is terrible on the Upper East Side of Manhattan and I’d hate for you to get all wrinkled and sweaty on the train.”
“I love you, Helen,” I said, dropping a kiss on top of her sweet head.
I grabbed my man-purse and took one more cursory glance at myself in the mirror. I was good to go.
“Any advice?” I asked.
Helen had been casually dating a rather bizarre vampire named Sven Smith. My little buddy normally avoided her own kind since they were viciously mean about her allergy to blood. Sven found her unusual quirk adorable. He’d been creating different flavored protein smoothies for her to drink. She was truly happy. Helen deserved to be treated like a queen… and so did I.
She clasped her pale slim hands together and wrinkled her nicely plucked brow in thought. “Be yourself because you’re wonderful! Be totally honest or it’s a waste of time. But mostly, remember that any man would be lucky to have Johnson Jones on his arm.”
My dear friend made everything sound so lovely and simple. I was touched and wiped a tear from my eye. This of course led to Helen sobbing, which in turn made my foyer look like someone had died.
“I’ll clean it up,” Helen promised through her tears. “I’m just so excited for you!”
“Let’s tamp that back, darling,” I said with a laugh. “I’d hate to show up for my appointment looking like I’ve just left the scene of a crime.”
Helen’s girlish giggle warmed my heart. We were an unlikely pair, but I simply adored her.
“The car service is called Undead Ubers. Sven’s cousin Dracula Smith runs it. He’ll be your driver today since you’re such an important client—Johnson Jones, caftan designer to the stars!”
It was my turn to giggle. Helen was terrific for my ego. Her business acumen was unparalleled, but her sweetness was what I loved the best.
“His name is really Dracula Smith?” I asked.
“Yep. His dad is Spike Smith and his mom is Elvira Smith. Totally nuts,” she said, checking her watch then peeping out of the window. “He’s here!”
“Shit,” I muttered. This was really happening. No backing out now. I’d even told Dwayne and Zorro I was going and promised to call them with an update as soon as I finished the meeting. “Wish me luck,” I said, opening the door to a crisp, beautiful and sunny day.
“You’re all the luck you need, Johnson Jones,” Helen said, gently pushing me out of the front door.
“From your mouth,” I muttered as I walked over to the sleek black Mercedes that Dracula Smith drove. “Here goes nothing.”
Today was either the start of a new adventure or a shitshow about to unfold. It was up to me.
I picked adventure.
“She dumped me. Can youse believe dat shite? Da vampire love of my life kicked my lily-white arse to the curb,” Dracula complained. “Even tried to decapitate me with a dull butter knife. I love dat broad to the moon and back. I just don’t understand.”
