I rolled into my parking spot, and half heartedly shut off the engine of my four door sedan. 'So ends yet another soul draining day,' I thought to myself. My job was that of your average everyday office schlub. I hated that office, from the grey carpet to those ridiculous pink fluorescent lights in the ceiling. I slipped my keys in my pocket, reached for my computer, and drew it from the back seat. My commute was at least a half hour in the morning, and if I was lucky, twenty-five minutes in the afternoon. This evening had been a particularly long work day followed by a short commute due to the lack of traffic at this hour.
I checked the clock on the radio. Almost nine. I found the handle, and opened the door. I watched as the digital display went blank, and the commercial for the new weight loss pill went silent. I trudged through the night, nearly a block, until I reached my building. I entered the lobby. "Fucking great!" I said as I read the out of order sign on the elevator door. I entered the stairwell dragging my feet. My apartment was on the third floor, and there wasn't much keeping me from collapsing on the stairs for a while. My whole day was barely tolerable, but the one thing that kept me pushing my weight up those steps was the girl who awaited me. Not my wife, not even my girlfriend, but my roommate and best friend, Alicia.
Alicia had lived with me for about a year up to this point. Her smile and manner were infectious, and I sometimes wondered if she realized how she got me through the week. We both had similar jobs, in opposite directions, and I always found myself wishing one of us could quit and go work with the other. It would make life so much better, but I never had the nerve to go through with it. Since the first day we met, we shared a mutual attraction. We are both fairly attractive people. She is a little more than five feet tall, and I a little under six. She had dark brown hair, and mine was light. Her face was cheeky with bright brown eyes that smiled, even when she didn't, and I had the features of a statue. Her body was slim, and tight, like that of a gymnast, while mine was muscular, but not particularly toned. We kept this attraction to ourselves; we certainly didn't want to complicate our living situation. I know I was attracted to her, but only once did I receive a confirmation of her attraction to me.
A few months before, we shared a car to a party in the burbs. We spent most of the evening apart, but when I went to find her, she was a little drunk. I sat next to her, and we made small talk for a bit. Then out of the blue, she leaned in and kissed me. I could smell the booze on her breath as she drew away. When I stood her up to take her home, she was laughing, and stumbling in her heels. When I got her back to the apartment, she collapsed on the couch, and we never spoke of it.
I finally reached the third floor, and found old familiar 319. The door wasn't locked, so I knew she was home. I strolled in through the kitchen, and set my computer on the coffee table in the living room. The light was on in the bathroom. "Andrew?" I heard her call out.
"Alicia?" I replied. I always called her by the European pronunciation of her name. Ah-lee-see-uh, four syllables.
"Okay," she shouted, "Just making sure it's you."
I hung up my overcoat, loosened my tie, and flopped on the couch. When I flipped on the tube, the food channel was on. I turned it away to something which wouldn't make me salivate. I hadn't had a decent meal all week, and I didn't have the will to fire up the stove. Just then I heard the door open, and the sound of heels clacking on the ground. I turned around with great surprise at what I beheld.
"What do you think?" she said, a tremendous nervous smile upon her face. I looked her up and down. Her hair was in loose tossed waves and curls, and dark red lipstick on her lips. A little eye shadow and blush here and there. She was pretty as always, but what threw me the most was her outfit. She was wearing what appeared to be a black leather vest, which ended before her belly button, and a black leather skirt, which ended six inched above the knee, and a chain around her waist. Her feet were bare, but for a pair of black stiletto shoes and her toenails were painted the same as her lips. I didn't really feel like drooling over her like I was, so I decided to make a humorous observation.
"Kinda slutty, don't you think?" I smiled.
She had a sneer on her face made of mock anger as she raised her middle finger in my direction. "I know it's slutty," she said, "That's kinda what I was going for."
"Then why the middle finger?" I asked.
"You don't tell a girl she looks slutty, you tell her she looks pretty," she said. Being the jokester I was, I couldn't pass this one up.
"Well, you're looking extra pretty tonight," I laughed.
"HA, HA," she said with extreme sarcasm.
"What are you dressed up for anyway?" I asked.
"It's for Jennifer's bachelorette party," she said, "She wants us to tease the stripper." She had her hands on her hips as she talked, achieving a very sassy look.
"Well, that might not work," I warned.
"Why the hell not?" she said, as if I were mocking her appearance.
"Well," I said, "because a lot of those guys are gay."
"Strippers?" she said, "Bullshit!"
"I'm serious," I said, "Who else would know what a girl wants to see."
"You are such a tremendous bull shitter," she said, as she turned to return to the bathroom.
"I'm not joking," I said, "I don't know where I heard that, but I'm sure I heard it from more than one source."
"Well," she said, "I guess we'll just have to find out."
"I guess so," I said with cool confidence. "Is that real leather?" I quickly changed the subject.
"Yep," she said, as she smoothed the skirt down over her thighs with both hands.
"I don't believe you," I said.
"Feel it," she said, as she walked over to me. She stopped to my right, with her belly right in my face. I reached up with my right hand, and pinched the bottom of the vest between my thumb, and finger. I squeezed and kneaded it. I stared at the small silver chain which dangled from her navel.
