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Monday, February 28, 2011

55 I chust don't vant you to be sad anymore


Lorelei asked me to the dance being held for the foreign exchange students from Germany. How odd, and yet complimenting, for a guy to be asked by a chick on a date to a dance that wasn't Sadie Hawkins.

Hell yes, I said. She asked if I could score some hard booze. Hell yes, I said. Then she asked me if I could score some coke. Hell No I said.

That threw me for a loop. What the hell? Who was this shy chick who wore more and more leather to school each day?

She was like a shape-shifter, but one that was transmogrifying slowly, either adapting to her scenery with subtle camouflage techniques, or else she wanted to reveal her true self, beginning with hints and kisses, ending with an explosion and Mayhem.

Either way, I was enthralled.

I was along for the ride, you see.

What would you have done? I hope you would say the same thing. I think that you would, my friend.

So I needed to know how to dress. Yes, I felt like a bitch, for asking her what she was planning on wearing. I just didn't want to look like a dweeb next to her, and I had an idea she would be looking quite "different."

I would turn out to be right.

But she helped me, because that was what she had planned. And she shocked me with her words.


We met in front of the Fashion Fair. Her sponsor family was there, all of them. How queer. Mom, Dad and Brother of the girl who was now in Germany, and who were now hosting Lorelei in their daughter's exchange, came to greet me. Lorelei made the introductions.

They were quite friendly, and I put my best "foot" forward, so they felt comfortable in leaving Lorelei with me. Dad would be back in two hours to pick her up.

(Here, a "foot" is a sly reference to the length of a penis. Sorry about that.)

That being over, she grabbed my hand and pulled me after her. She walked quite fast, with a stride that matched her long legs, and she walked with purpose.

I found myself along for the ride, so I kicked back and let this chick take the wheel.

In and out of shops, she pulled me after her, throwing shit on me and frowning and tugging me after her. At one point, she pulled me into that little shop no one went into much, and she smiled.

As she rummaged through the racks, I heard her say under her breath, "Vee vill show her. Vee vill show her goot."


She was helping me use her. Holy shit, did I have a lot to learn about women.

If you have ever been in the presence of someone who knows what they want, but they have to search through a lot of rubble to find the ore, then you understand this Lorelei girl. For some reason, she had developed a certain skill set that empowered her to think she could come up with the gold.

Well, she did.

The two hours passed in what seemed like a fifteen minute makeout session: nice and long, but over way too quickly, leaving you wanting more.

I almost didn't think about Katheena even one time. OK, I didn't think about her all that often.

Betrayer. Beautiful Betrayer.

While we waited in the glassed-in alcove for Foster Dad to show up, I asked Lorelei, "This is about more than the dance, isn't it?"

She looked at me in an odd way. "I don't know vat you mean."

I stared ahead for a second, and then turned back and looked her right in the eye. "Why are you helping me?"

She looked off in the distance and didn't say anything. Foster Dad pulled up and waved at us.

I handed her some of the bags and the one solitary box of shoes. She put them in the back seat and then went to get in the front seat. In front of the open door, she paused before getting in.

"Veeee-ill. I chust don't vant you to be sad anymore."


God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out

A find from Dotta.

Solitary Gun, by Rogue Wave

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