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I wiped off my tears and moved everything that Sam had just dropped off for me up to the room I was staying in. Like I had with the rest of my belongings,  I added them to the growing pile on the floor. Slappie had followed me upstairs.

“Get dressed!” she ordered.  “I’m fucking hungry.”

“I just want some champagne,” I admitted, walking over to the mirror to clean my face before applying my makeup.

“What are you wearing?” Slappie wanted to know.

“I don’t know, just a sun dress, I guess.”

I watched Slappie leave the room. She wandered back in a few minutes later completely naked.  In her arms were a pile of dresses, all at least a decade out dated.

“Which one should I wear?” she asked me.

“How about some underwear?” I suggested.

“Huh?”

“The red one,” I said after barely glancing at them, in hopes that Slappie would cover up her bald beaver as soon as possible.

I’d only been living there three days and already had been exposed to more vagina shots than Hugh Hefner probably views in a month.

“I don’t know, what if we run into Jose? I have to look hot incase we see him! Maybe you should wear the red one?”

“Ummm, thanks but it’s not really my style. It’s kind of out of date, I like more modern…”

“It’s not about the trend!” Slappie began to school me, “It’s about what looks good on your body! You need to dress for your shape! This one would totally look good on you with your small waist, right?”

“I understand that. It would, that’s why I totally owned one just like it in 2005!” I spat back.

Slappie looked wounded, I figured I better act fast. “Oh wow,  what a great skirt!” I lied, pointing to first thing that caught my eye.

“I know, right? It looks killer on me too! It was expensive, like $100 and I just got it back from the dry cleaners!”

I watched as Slappie pulled it off the hanger, threw a leg inside, and finally began to conceal her va-jay-jay. Once it was on she began to swirl it from side to side pretending that she had class.

Unfortunately for Slappie, her exposed titties flung along with it completely sabotaging her act.

Since I’m not gay, I decided to direct my focus back to the mirror in front of me while little Ole Slappie slipped back into her bedroom to fish out the rest of her outfit.

Although she was in the other room it didn’t stop her mouth from gabbing.

“I can’t believe Jose hasn’t texted me back. What do you think he is doing right now? Huh?”

I decided not to respond. Slappie didn’t seem to notice.

“Hey you should come to work with me tonight! I bet you would do well, it’s a ghetto strip club and most of the guys like big fat asses. You would probably make money there. What?”

I continued to not respond.

“Hey there was this 19 year old that came in last night, he wants to fuck me. Do you think that’s bad? Should I do it? If I do, will it make me a horrible person? Huh?”

I still didn’t respond.

“You need to work in Long Beach. I bet I could get you a job at my friends salon. Then you would be closer to work. Right? You know what I mean?”

I was getting annoyed, “I’ve already got a great job Slappie, but thanks!”

“What?”

Damn it, responding was a dumb thing to do because in bounced big baby Slappie!

She had fully accessorized her outfit with a tank top barely covering her nipples and a tight belt around her waist. To finish off the onsomble the top of her head was decorated with a giant fucking pink bow.

Slappie then posed for me in a position resembling a little girl, with her hands together under her chin while batting her lashes, in her little baby voice she asked, “Can I use some of your makeup Asterisk?”

I wondered how someone in their mid forties could act this way.

“Go ahead,” I said.

I backed a away and started looking for my own dress while she helped herself to my makeup box. 

When she was finished, we headed down the stairs.

I couldn’t wait for that damn mimosa!

We headed outside and began walking in the direction of the restaurant.

“WAIT!” Slappie ordered when we were just a block from the condo. “Take my picture!”

I took about 12 photos for her and then she took a few of me. Cars honked as they drove by our make-shift photo shoot. One man even shouted something I couldn’t understand out his window.

It was probably perverted.

I didn’t like any of the pictures Slappie took of me enough to post on Facebook.

Once we had arrived to the restaurant and were seated, we were greeted by our server. She was a tiny boyish lesbian dressed in slacks and a tie.

“We need mimosas please!” I begged the second she had approached.

“What are your vegetation options?” Slappie asked.

The tiny woman went over the menu with Slappie, but she still wasn’t satisfied. “I can’t have cheese!” she complained. “No yogurt either!”

The server was more patient with her than I would have been and after what seemed like hours, Slappie finally got her complex order in. Once the server had walked away, Slappie gave me a creepy smile.

“I want her!”

“Ok.”

“I’m bisexual. Did you know that?” she asked me.

“I knew you were bipolar…”

“Yup! I’m all kinds of bi! Right? I love how small and androgynous she is. I want to eat her pussy!”

I was eager to change the subject.

Lucky for me the booze arrived just in time!

Yippee!

Slappie and I guzzled it down like horses in the desert at a watering hole after a 10 hour ride.

The server caught on quickly. She bright us over an entire pitcher.

I love her.

We didn’t stop drinking until the brunch cut off time 2 hours later.

The server handed us the bill and offered to call us a cab.

“Thank you but we are walking,” I informed her. .. well maybe it sounded more like this, “Fank oof buttttt E err awwwking!”

Slappie and I rolled our way out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk. I was somehow the more sober of the two, and was being used as Slappie’s crutch.

We were halfway home when it happened.

“Oh my God! OH MY GODDDD!” Slappie yelled out followed by a burp so loud it echoed down the alleyway.

Before I could even take a step back that bitches face was in a bush as she began barfing her brains out.

The champagne was coming back up with the force of an exploded fire hydrant.

I watched the bow on top of her head flop up and down as she heaved into the unsuspecting plant.

Poor plant.

Then just as abruptly as it had begun, it ended.

Slappie stood back up and amazingly started walking in a straight line.

I bet she could have even passed a breathalyzer test after that!

“Do you think Jose is home?” she asked. We should stop by there on the way back! Huh?”

“I think you should clean up first, you don’t want him to smell your barf breath.”

“Oh, yah, huh?”

Once back to the condo, I walked up to the fridge and pulled out a beer. The day was still young after all. Then I took a seat on the couch.

“No! Nooooooo!” Slappie screamed.

“What?”

“There’s no eating on my couch! This was my dead fiancé’s couch. Look I’ll let you drink on it this once but only if you sit on a blanket. Ok? You understand, right? You know why this couch is important to me, right?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Uhhhhh ok,” I responded setting my beer down and grabbing a blanket. Once the couch was covered, I plopped back down and took a swig of my brew.

“It’s all I have left of him!”

Sappie laid down next to me and rested her head on my lap. Then out of nowhere she began crying.

“I miss him so much!” She told me.

“Shhhh. I know,” I said.

“No you don’t! You don’t understand!”

“I know what is like to lose somebody, believe me.”

Slappie continued to loudly sob. Unsure what to do, I began to rub her head like she was a small child, in an attempt to console her.

It obviously worked because the next thing I knew Slappie had heaved her body up, grabbed me by the face and stuck her tongue in my mouth!

I jumped off the couch!

“Slappie! No! Bad!” I shouted.

“Hey, let’s go see if Jose is home!” she suggested as if nothing had happened.

I jumped up and ran straight for the front door.

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Copyright Wendi Bear 2015

15 thoughts on “The Androgynous Mimosa

  1. Wow, she has absolutely NO self control does she? Kind of like that guy on The Office with the glasses. Just says whatever pops into her mind without any thought put into it. I’m glad you’ve got a chance at your own place though. You need out of Slappy’s as soon as possible.

  2. Pingback: Ghetto Celebrity | It's not my fault.

  3. As other commenters noted you are looking real good, fine actually… may I have two pickets to titsburgh or two nipples for a dime please. Lets bitch slap Punchie and slip into a pool full of Mimosa

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  5. Pingback: Free Willy and the Hillbillies | It's not my fault.

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