Not My Kind Of Donut’s

I left my shift at the burlesque club around 10PM on a Saturday. Like most nights I drove my already buzzed, scantily clad, Stripper ass to the goth club. I paid the entrance fee and went in. Once onside I ran into the guy I was dating at the time, Sean. Sean was very dweeby. He had tiny little teeth that resembled Nerd candy, a bowl cut and he was bowlegged.

I wasn’t much into him but he would do for the time being. Plus he had the second biggest penis I had ever seen.

I immediately went to the bar and bought a drink. I slammed it then hit the dance floor. It was already crowded. I stuck my purse under stage and got up on a box to dance. I danced there until closing only stopping to sneak out for the occasional cigarette or drink.


The music finally stopped and the lights were coming on. I reached under the stage to grab my bag. I pulled it out then searched for my hunk-a-dork. It didn’t take long to track him down. He followed my stumbling ass out to the car.

“I better drive us back.” he said.

I was working out in Hollywood at the time but lived in Long Beach. Sean lived in Pasadena. Staying the occasional night at his house when I could, made my life much easier.

“Fine!” I said, “Just be careful!”

I had just boughten my car a few weeks prior to this night and I was only carrying liability insurance.

“Chill out!” he said.

It was easy for Sean to relax. It wasn’t his car. He already totaled his not long before this.

We got into the car just as it was starting to sprinkle. The roads were wet as Sean drove us to the freeway. We hit the on ramp and were gaining speed when I noticed it.

“Holy Shit!” I screamed, “My fucking makeup kit is gone! We have to turn around! NOW!”

You see I was pretty hammered so I didn’t notice it missing at first. I had my entire MAC makeup, brush kit in my purse that night. It must of fallen out under the stage while I was dancing. We had to go back. That was Roughly $800 in brushes gone. I needed them for work the next day.

Sean got off the freeway as soon as he could and started driving us back to the club. I called the club but wasn’t getting an answer.

“Faster Sean! We need to get back there before the staff leaves for the night.”

Sean hit the gas.

That’s when it happened.

Sean went over a bump in the road. With a mix between Sean’s crappy driving skills and the slick condition from the rain he lost control of the car.

We spun out in circles, maybe two or three times before slamming into the railing. Luckily it was 2:30 am and we were pretty much the only car on the road.

The car stopped, we jolted. Dumb struck we sat there in the car for a moment facing the wrong side of the freeway. Sean’s heart rate slowed and he was able to get the car turned around and off the first exit.

The car wasn’t totaled but it was fucked up.

Once off the freeway Sean pulled over to the side of the road to inspect the damage.

I was scared, I was in shock but mostly I was pissed off.

I still don’t know why I did what I did next. If it was the alcohol talking or if it was the anger pulsating in my veins.

I slowly reached into my bag and pulled out my can of pepper spray. I opened my car door, got out and steadily walked up to Sean. He turned around, started to say something but before he could get a word out, I shot a stream of foaming fire all over that mother fuckers face! He screamed, then he ran! He ran as fast and as far as his gimpy, pigeon-toed legs would carry him.

I never did get my makeup kit back. Sean bought me an eyeshadow and an eyebrow brush to try and make up for the car. It didn’t cover the damages.

I saw three white Kia’s today on the freeway but I didn’t get close enough to any of them to see if they were him.

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