Marcie's Life After Graduation
Marcie was still recovering from the previous night's celebration. Her pussy was deliciously sore and aftershocks from her many orgasms—if one could call them that—continued popping up at the most inopportune times, like when her parents were taking her to eat lunch that day.
She would be graduating with honors; notwithstanding, she had not found a job as yet and sat down at her computer to continue her search for employment as a musician/pianist the moment her parents left for home.
To date the ten jobs applied for had been dead ends, but as Laura always said, "There are a zillion jobs out there, and one of them has your name on it."
She began searching a different city, still in Florida, but on the opposite side of the State that she'd been scouring. Crawfordville and Panama City each had several clubs that held promise, and she sent each an email containing her resume in hope of hitting pay dirt.
Moments later, Laura burst into the room shouting, "I got it! I got it!"
"What, you landed a job?" Marcie said surprised and pleased.
"Yeah, bitch!" she replied using her favorite nickname for her lover and roommate of four years. "And it's with the Orlando Orchestra too!"
The Orlando Orchestra had been the first and only employer Laura had applied too.
"That's incredible," Marcie said.
"Isn't it? It seems my letter reached them the day their second trombone had a stroke."
"You're second trombone?" Marcie gasped; stunned at that news even more than the fact that she'd landed a great job.
"Well, maybe not. I'm guessing I'll be third or fourth if they have a fourth. But it's a great orchestra, my uncle--I called him to check them out--he knows about such stuff, you know?
"Anyway, what with Disney in the same city there's a ton of money available for the Arts. So the orchestra doesn't live hand to mouth as so many do these days. Oh shit, here I am running my mouth off, and not asking how you've made out. So what's happening there, baby?"
"I just emailed a club in Panama City. It's too soon to know what they have ... if anything. But I'm so happy for you!"
That said, they hugged and danced around the room until they feel laughing on the bed.
Then Laura was between Marcie's legs, eating her out.
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Panama City didn't materialize, but eventually, Marcie connected on a job in Gainesville at a kind of recording studio. Her job was to fix previously recorded piano material by other musicians not able to correct mistakes, or tracks that just required repair. Initially Marcie thought there would be very little opportunity for her to actually play on anyone's track, but the opposite was true. Then her problem was to copy the artist's style and make her additions seamless to the overall material.
Marcie was smart enough to humble herself in the presence of the major recording artists she came into contact with and even jammed with them when they fooled around before getting down to any actual recoding. Many of them wouldn't have cared if she sat in with them during the recording, but contractual restraints prohibited it and they were careful to follow their manager's instructions in that area.
Being around such a variety of professional pianists, Marcie learned a great deal about her profession fairly quickly. She also learned more than she thought possible about arranging material and just how successful song writers worked.
And so when a musician she knew called to ask if she was interested in joining his group in Tampa, she accepted. They had a contract at a large club for one year. Marcie figured, what's the worst that can happen? I try it for a year; if it doesn't go any further I'll be 24 with the rest of my life to play it safe.
She called Laura, with whom she kept in touch, and told her of her decision. Laura was thrilled for her, encouraging her to go to Tampa. "Maybe you'll meet Mr. Right in Tampa Town," she laughed. "Oh yeah that's all I need," Marcie replied, but she was thinking, Yeah, what if?
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So Marcie ventured out that Friday night with a bunch of friends from the studio, Ann and Vickie the girls, and Nick, Luke, and Chad the guys. The music was blaring and the crowd drunk enough to be raucous and Marcie was laughing as she made her way back to the bar to get a drink.
Nick, Chad and Luke were gathered at the bar.
"Hey, Marcie," Nick shouted to be heard. "Can you help settle a bet between us guys?"
"That's kind of my mission in life, Nick," she smiled and waited.
He returned the smile and said, "You know that REM song, Losing my Religion?"
"You refer to their top-ten Grammy award-winning hit that was the theme of my prom? Yes. Yes, I am."
"Okay--okay, so in the chorus, is he saying: That's me in the corner? Or, let's pee in the corner?"
"Really, Nick ... is that the question?"
Just then Chad and Luke start singing: "Let's pee in the corner!"
Ignoring them, or at least trying to ignore the duo, she faced Nick and asked, "Why would he say "Let's pee in the corner?"
"I don't know," Nick replied. "Why would he say, That's me in the corner? Obviously that's him in the corner."
Laughing, Nick turned to Luke and said, "The lady has rendered judgment. Pay up, Dude."
"No way, man!" Luke sputtered.
Marcie laughed along when Nick braced Luke and said, "Man up dude, you heard my answer. Pay the guy."
Luke, with obvious reluctance handed Nick an undetermined amount of money, which Nick promptly pocketed.
"Let me buy you a drink," Nick offered as he waved to draw the bartender over.
"How gallant of you," she replied, and to the bartender, "A Mojito, please."
"Make that two, my friend," he said to the bartender. Then facing Marcie Nick added, "I bet my friends here I could go a whole day eating and drinking only things that end in 'tos.' You know Burritos, Doritos, Cheetos, mojitos ..."
Marcie laughed. "I did that once. But with foods that ended with 'oni.' Like, 'Rice-a-roni, bologna, spumoni, calzone. But, there wasn't a bet involved. My sorority was just full of bulimics."
He laughed. "I never realized how funny you can be, Marcie."
"Thank you, better late than never."
