Preface:
This story is based on actual events.
All characters are 18+ unless specifically stated.
I've chunked this story down into chapters for different audiences.
The sexier part begins in Chapter 2 if you'd rather just jump right into it.
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"Never open the door to a lesser evil, for other and greater ones invariably slink in after it."
― Baltasar Gracian
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Dark Night
Chapter 1
Remember Me
Days pass without distinction, as trees on a shoreline. This one, the same as that, separated only by some distance on the shore. Landmarks emerge on the horizon, then fade as we pass. Isolated dangers, reefs, and sandbars are concealed in the dark water.
The Coral Head Restaurant paid less than the cashier job that I had at Shop-Easy but the tips were amazing. I'd make as much on a Saturday night as I did for a whole week at the store. You need to be part entertainer and part model to be a good carhop. I was always a bit chatty and a little flirty so it didn't take long for me to get the hang of it.
You need to learn how to navigate crude men who think they're clever but once you're past that then it's a breeze. It requires some level of tolerance to deal with all the pet names and waves of lewd, suggestive commentary some nights. That's not to say that I'm gorgeous. I blend for the most part but I guess that I'm absolutely stunning after last call on a Saturday night. Some men just can't resist one last shot at bagging some game from the hunt before they head home to their wives.
They roll in just as charming as can be, halfway in the bag, slurring their speech and acting like they're 12 years old. I swear, each glass of rum reduces their IQ by 10 points. Clumsy buggers too, dropping their cutlery on the floor all night and trying to look up my skirt. How could a girl resist suave gentlemen such as that? It used to scare me but, like anything else, you get used to it.
There was a group of guys that used to hang out there. I'd seen them around. They were near my age and came from the south end, like me, but they were in a different catchment area so they went to a different school.
They'd come to the restaurant almost every night and hang out, chatting up the girls or polishing their wheel or whatever single guys do to fritter away the hours when they're not bird-doggin' chicks. The groups that came around were a bit fragmented and rarely mingled, birds of a feather and all that. The rich kids hung with the rich kids and the street rod guys hung with the street rod guys.
I connected with this one guy. I'd seen him at rallies and sporting events back in the day so we got to chatting about my school and his school, social kind of things like that. There was that six degrees of separation so we knew some of the same people. It didn't take long before he was asking me out. He was very nice and he had his dad's car most nights. He'd pick me up after close and drive me home, which was a new deal for me. Who could pass up on a chauffeur-driven ride home? It was infinitely better than sitting in the back seat of a beat-up old taxi that smelled like a mixture of Lysol and vomit. *gag*
I was a virgin when I started dating Mark. That's not to say that I didn't make out with guys before. I had a healthy libido and I was as active as most girls, I think. I'd even go so far as to say that I'd be on the upper end of the bell curve of the statistical average on a psych survey. Maybe not, I don't know. I only know that I thought about sex a lot. It's just that I never had the opportunity to be alone with a guy long enough to close the deal.
Mark had his dad's car all the time and I closed the restaurant on weekends so we had a ton of opportunity. Late nights, big cars, you get the picture. And it was a big car too. It was one of those SUVs with seating for nine people; an Escalade or Yukon, one of those. I can't remember which it was but it was a people carrier, leather seats and all. I swear, we christened every seat in that car over the summer.
Anyway, so he was out with his buddies one night and he texted me.
Mark - supp Cupcakes?
Vickie - Homework. hbu?
Mark - cruising. wanna hang?
Vickie - For sure. I'm done. Rescue me, please! Jailbreak!
Vickie - Where to?
Mark - nowhere. just a drive.
Vickie - Gotcha.
Mark - CU in 5
Vickie - Okie doke.
I was pretty much burned out after reading over assignments so I was glad to have an excuse to duck out. They were just cruising around so I didn't bother to change because we weren't actually going anywhere. I was wearing sandals, no socks. I was a chemistry major and we always made fun of the guys that wore sandals and socks. They said that you can always tell a grad student by their footwear; sandals, and socks. I never paid much attention to it before, but once someone points it out, you can't unsee it, socks were out.
So yeah, sandals, a tank top, and jean shorts with white cotton bikini briefs underneath. I probably should have put a bra on but I never thought much about it at the time. He said just a drive, so that's casual, right? Okay, I guess that there are varying degrees of casual. There's business casual, golf club casual, and backyard barbeque casual. I took it as backyard barbeque casual. In retrospect, golf club casual would have been a better choice.
Mark rolled up with three of his buddies tagging along. There was one guy in the front and two guys in the back. The guy in the front wasn't moving so I made a beeline for the back until the front passenger door popped open, Mark flipped up the center console and waved me over.
"Hey ya Cupcakes, hop in the middle! Don't be shy. You remember these guys don't you?" Mark asked as I was hoofing my way in.
Oh for gosh sakes Mark, stop with the Cupcakes!
I thought.
I have to tell him one day. It makes me sound like a bimbo.
Okay, I'll admit that I might have looked like a bimbo that night with my boobs jiggling around like two little teacups full of jello and then climbing into a car with four men, but I'm not. At least, not according to my definition. To me, a bimbo hangs out at the pub and would bunk with any barfly that buys her a drink. That definitely wasn't my style.
He started calling me that after he saw me topless one night, cupcakes. He said that my breasts looked like two vanilla cupcakes with maraschino cherries on top. I thought that it was cute at the time and somehow the name stuck. I'm pretty sure that his buddies didn't know the story and it was our secret but I was still a little embarrassed every time he called me that in front of other people. It made me self-conscious of my boobs, some Freudian guilt thing I imagine.
Anyway, I'm getting off-topic so, where was I? Oh yes! Mark summoned me to the front.
"Oh sure, I remember them. Tim, Billy, Drew." I said, "Long time no see! How've you been guys?" I asked cordially as I surveyed a path to my seat.
Drew was a nice guy but not particularly well-socialized. You'd think that he'd get out and make way for me or move over or something but he didn't budge. He'd staked his claim and he wasn't giving up any ground. That's kind of a trailer park move in my opinion.
I'm not a big girl. I'm 5'3" and 120lb soaking wet but I still had to shoehorn my way in. It was pretty awkward. I wasn't sure how I was going to manage. I was either going to give him a little lap dance or jiggle my boobs for him as I crawled over. I hoofed my way up through the door but I had to put my foot between Drew's legs to get past him. We were bumping knees, I was wiggling my breasts in his face as I inched my way along. My head was skidding along the headliner and I almost head-butt him a couple of times but I made it without incident.
"Oops, ah, sorry! Sorry, I got this, almost there." I said coaxing myself across his lap.
For gosh sake!
I thought to myself when I finally made it over the hurdle.
Chivalry is long dead. Whatever happened to the days when a guy would hold the door? I should have accidentally elbowed him in the chops and given him a knee in the bro globes, there's a life lesson for your trouble Drew!
I didn't know these guys very well so maybe I was setting the bar too high. They used to come to the restaurant with Mark once in a while and they use to go to the same school. That's all I knew about them. They seemed nice enough but it would be a giant leap to think any of them would be splitting the atom. Mark had a Rolodex of friends that he cycled through but those three guys were joined at the hip, you didn't get one without the other. I'm not good with names either. I made an acronym for them, TBD; Totally Bad Dudes, that's the only reason I remembered. Alright, I'll admit that it's not brilliant but it kept me from embarrassing myself that night.
I don't know why Mark said it that way. Wouldn't it be more appropriate to say; you remember Tim, Billy, and Drew? Suppose that I didn't remember their names, then what? I'd look like an idiot and they feel insignificant. Word order and presentation are important in social situations or people get embarrassed and feelings get hurt. I try not to put people on the spot like I'm a game show host. That's the same as asking; What was the name of your 5th-grade teacher? There's always that uncomfortable silence as everyone waits for your answer. I lucked out with my silly acronym because I wasn't expecting a pop quiz.
Tim and Billy were in the back, slumped down in their seats, looking bored and a little grumpy. Their heads leaned back against the seats, looking out the windows at nothing in particular and they hardly moved when I got in but they did acknowledge my presence. I guess they were trying to look cool or whatever. Regardless, they were giving me that ghetto gangster vibe.
All the world's a stage
