-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- Better Day -*- Copyright 1998 by Ellen Hayes. Any resemblance between the writings in this work, and any actual persons or places, living or dead, are purely coincidental, except when used for satirical purposes. This work contains adult situations, adult language, adult concepts, and possibly sex. If you are legally not allowed to read materials containing such things, then you will be breaking the law by reading this. I am not responsible. Continuing to read this document, or storing it or reproducing it in any format means that you explicitly affirm that you are legally allowed to possess and read such materials in your city, county/parish, state, and country. All rights reserved. See the bottom for distribution rights. Better Day *** Tom staggered back to his room, not fully recovered from the events of the day before, but feeling better about it. On the other hand, he had two exceptionally expensive concert tickets, and no damn date to go with. Every, EVERY single girl he had talked to, was busy or dating someone or otherwise unable or unwilling to accompany him. Tom was beginning to think it was a conspiracy. The couple or five beers he'd sucked down in Chuck's room had mellowed him quite a bit, however; so much so, in fact, that he was merely peeved instead of psychotic. He thought this was a good thing. "Paul has to know someone, I mean, he does that math tutoring, he has to know at least a couple girls, right?" he asked himself rhetorically. Sure, he thought. No problem. He jiggled the lock and opened the door to his room, and shut the door behind him before he realized Paul was home. Again. Tom looked up. There was a long pause as the two of them stared at each other. "Ahhh... weren't you doing that last night?" he inquired, pointing at the rather daringly cut black dress that Paul was wearing, and trying to hide with his hands. It's not that small a dress, dummy, he thought to himself. He had a lot of makeup on too, Tom noted dimly. Paul took a deep breath. "Ahhhhhhh.... yeah. I, uh, I thought you were going to a concert tonight?" Tom stood up, pissed all over again. "And who," he started as he began to pace, "am I supposed to go with, since that bitch Carol decided we should 'see other people' last night, and then went and called every girl around and told them not to go out with me tonight? I ask you!" he snarled, whipping around. "Ahhh, well, um." Paul stopped, at a loss for words. An idea formed in Tom's head. "Hey," he said, plopping back down on the bed. "You wanna go? You're already dressed for it, and we could grab something to eat before it starts." Paul looked completely stunned. "What? Like, like this?!" He indicated the dress he was wearing. Tom shrugged as he leaned back. "Sure. You look better than Carol did, that's fer sure. That bitch..." He sighed. "You got nice legs. Carol had these fat stumpy cellulite things." Tom was amazed he hadn't noticed Carol's flaws before now. "You want me to go to a concert dressed like this?" Paul confirmed. "Are you deaf or something? Why the hell not? I mean, do you have any place to go tonight? Do you?" Paul shook his head. "Well, I spent three fucking hours in line for these fucking tickets, and I do not want to let them go to waste, and, shit, you're already dressed for it, unlike any girls I can find at this hour, assuming that Carol hasn't called them too, that bitch-" Tom took a deep breath, and let it out. "Uh," Paul said, and looked uncertain. Come to think of it, Tom thought, he looks a lot like Cindy did, back in high school, when he does that. "Come on," Tom urged. "I'll even pay for dinner." With a dazed look, Paul said, "Uh, sure, why not?" "Great!" Tom stood up again. "Get your purse and shit, and let's, oh hey," he mentioned as he thought of something. "Mind if I call you Paula tonight? Paul would sound a little..." He waved his hand to show that it would sound a little too queer for comfort. "That'd be great," Paul now Paula said. "Great. Whatcha wanna eat? You on a diet or something, please tell me no because I am starved." Tom opened the door, and waved Paula out of the room before he locked it. He offered her his arm, and she took it. *** Distribution: No part of this work may be distributed as an original work by another person or group. Permission is given to redistribute this by electronic means, as long as the entirety of the work (from the BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE header to the END PGP SIGNATURE footer) is distributed, and credit is given to the original author, me. Archiving is permitted provided no fee is charged for access. All rights reserved. "Tallyho!" \ / @>--,--'-- ehayes@nym.alias.net + vicki .sig Ellen Hayes --=(*)=(*)=-- Renaissance Woman ==[-------- + virus 9.1a http://www.geocities.com/WestHollywood/Heights/5734/ -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: 2.6.2 iQCVAwUBNR9f+HYDebnvyV1VAQGPDwP/W4F7E7lRa1lkMLWi7KG8lqUm7e3sDKaj 51fgfys2tjydGfJEeUdDSMtAhvCfsR/dJI0vKgGdNV/XtTn414g2U5Lnm43YmmeP 2YcxhgSv7z5trGaMetul32bw3B5Rt7wnsR52AW/HbI5w4Hj/s+jfD5ESmvr9/mgf aW3Mka2ZqXE= =zsi4 -----END PGP SIGNATURE-----