I was sitting at home watching a baseball game and sipping a brew when Elizabeth called. Her mother had married my father a few years back and in the meantime we had become friends. We weren’t super close, probably because there was a 10-year difference in our ages – I was 31 and she 21 – but we had hung out together on occasion. Holidays at our parents house, a few dinners here and there, usually with her older sisters and whatever girl I was dating at the time. Or we’d meet for a drink or several when she made it into the city from the ’burbs. But we got along reasonably well and often had interesting conversations – about classes she was taking, our parents, or our respective relationships.
In my opinion she dated guys who didn’t hold a candle to her. First of all, she is smokin’ hot. She has shoulder length ash blond hair, a long neck, high Scandinavian cheekbones, a cute little nose and nice, full lips. And she has a kicking body. She’s thin, but not waifish; has smallish, perky tits, and a terrific shapely ass, which she often shows off in short mini skirts or tight denim shorts. Liz is also a smart chick. She has a vicious wit and doesn’t hesitate to use it to put someone in their place. The guys she goes out with tend to be dolts. She admitted to me one night over cocktails that she found herself attracted to, “Guys with an edge.” Which I understood to mean, “Guys with face piercings, baggy jeans and unwashed hair.” Though they might fit some MTV model of “cool,” I thought they were all stupid and none treated her as well as she deserved. I would encourage her to find a guy who was up to her standards, but knew not to push. She was fast becoming a grown woman and had to make decisions and mistakes on her own – without her step-brother looking over her shoulder.
When I picked up the phone I knew instantly that it was Liz and that she was drunk. She was slurring and there was the thumping of loud music in the background.
“Hey Cal. It’s Elizabeth. Whatcha doin’?” Before I could reply… “I think I need a ride.”
“Sure darling. What’s up? Where are you?”
“I’m at Mickey’s Tavern, and Becky left with some guy. She drove and now I’m stuck here. And there’s some guys… I need a ride.”
Mickey’s was only about a mile from my house, so I told her not to worry that I’d be there in a few minutes. Whatever was going on with the guys she mentioned couldn’t have been good, or else she would have been happy to stay and flirt. So I wasted no time and beat it to Mickey’s.
When I got there I saw her Liz sandwiched between two frat boy-types who were none too happy to see me, although Liz was.
“Hey, Cal! Thanksh for coming. Wanna drink?”
She looked drunk and a little worse for wear, but still pretty great. After I sat down and ordered a bourbon, I informed the frat boys that Elizabeth had called for a ride. “We’ll give her a ride – the ride of her life, if you’ll get the fuck outta here,” one genius said.
“Thanks man. That’s awfully generous of you, but I’ll take care of her.”
“Who the fuck are you?” barked the other as he grabbed Elizabeth roughly and pulled her towards him. “We’ve been buying her drinks all night!”
“I’m her step-brother, here’s $20 for the drinks, Liz is hammered, she’s not interested in going home with you two assholes, and I’m taking her home after I finish my drink.”
I don’t know if it was my steely glare or the fact that Elizabeth chimed in with: “Yeah, so fuck off!” Or if the bouncer, who happened to be a buddy of mine, scared them off when he walked over and asked if there was a problem, but Dumb and Dumber grabbed the $20 bill, got up grumbling and started looking for another drunk chick.