Lisa was torn from her dreamless sleep by her blaring alarm. She stared at the digital clock that told her it was 7:30. She prayed with every ounce of strength she had that this would be the moment her mutant powers awakened and she could detonate the clock like a bomb with the sheer power of one bloodshot eye. When the clock did not explode, she groaned and sat up, smacking the off switch..
She glanced around, squinting while she waited for her eyes to adjust to her batcave-like bedroom. Her pants were on the ground at her feet where she'd left them. It took her a moment to spot her shirt dangling from a shelf where she'd tossed it. Okay, Lisa. Do you just put this shit on, or actually take a fucking shower and put on clean clothes?
One sniff of her pits later and she was, begrudgingly, in the shower. She placed her hands against the shower wall and stared down at her body as the water ran across it. Her tits were pretty much nonexistent. She wasn't looking at them, though. She was looking at her arms. That stupid doctor had told her that her track marks would fade after about a year. It had been fucking two and she could still see them. Not as clear as they used to be, but someone looking for them would see them. Or someone kissing up her arm like Gomez Addams, which she'd always secretly wanted someone to do.
After giving the shampoo a moment to set, wondering if waiting for shampoo to set was even a thing, she rinsed out her hair.
"It's a pixie cut," she said to herself. Her dream man had asked her what her hair style was called.
"It's a dyke cut is what it is," Rick's voice replied in her head. That's what he'd said when she'd first got it cut. She'd thought maybe he'd like it.
The stylist had told her it was a spunky style. "Guys like it. It's spunky. Fun loving. Sassy."
She'd revealed it to Rick with a smile on her face. His response? "Jesus fucking Christ, Lisa. It's bad enough you don't have any tits. Least you could do is actually try to look like a woman."
In a perfect world, she'd have kicked him to the curb immediately. Instead she'd blown him. She even swallowed the shit and said, "Come on, baby. I'm a woman where it counts, right?"
Then she'd waited until he was asleep and shot up in the garage while crying. His disgusting dick had knocked her right off the wagon. It wasn't until she gotten clean, and subsequently removed all the shit from her life that was, well, shit, that she finally left him. Well that's not true. There was one thing still in her life that was shit. But she couldn't exactly remove herself from her life, now could she? Actually, she could, but the S word is a one way ticket, and she suspected the afterlife didn't hold any joys for her that the world of the living hadn't offered.
Danielle lived under the delusion that the two years she'd spent clean, and without a single boyfriend, were a good thing. She was prone to saying things like, "You shouldn't want a man in your life until you no longer need a man in your life," and, "I'm not going to watch you bend over backwards to please someone just because you think someone who would make you bend over backwards to please him is better than being alone." Danielle could afford such opinions because she was happily married.
After washing the night's stink from the crack of her ass, something the world seemed convinced only happened to men, she left the shower. The complete lack of effort on her part that it took to maintain it was one of the reasons she'd kept the pixie cut. Trying to convince herself that she was indeed spunky and that that was indeed a good thing was the rest of it. She wondered if dream man would think of her as spunky. She'd ask him if she saw him again.
She stood in front of the bathroom mirror and busied herself with her toothbrush while waiting for the condensation to leave the mirror. She could wipe it away, but that never worked out right and tended to leave annoying streak marks. The heater being on, the mirror was usable within a little over a minute. She stared at her frumpy face, frumpy mostly because she felt that way at the moment. She made an effort to liven herself up and failed. She fluffed her hair a bit in an attempt to bring it back to the perfection she'd paid $200 for.
She applied some light makeup while pondering with a smirk on her face the idea of grabbing a razor and cutting her hair in the style of Yolandi Visser.
She dressed herself and grabbed her wallet and phone, then headed out the door. She hopped into her jeep and stuck the key in the ignition. Or she would have if she hadn't forgotten to grab her fucking keys. She went back to the house and grabbed them, then returned to the car. She stuck her phone onto the dock and called out, "Siri, you bitch, wake up!"
The phone obeyed like the good little techno-bitch it was. She tapped the button to check her messages and found two. She hit the play button.
"Lisa? You're going to answer the phone eventually. If you wanted me out of your life, you would have blocked my number. Let's do some math, hun. You were happy when you were with me. Now you're sad. What left the equation? Bingo. Call me, babe."
She laughed. She didn't block his number because she got a kick out of listening to him beg to come back. Danielle seemed convinced that she kept it unblocked because she liked hearing from him, and would eventually take him back. She'd promised Lisa that the day she takes Rick back, that's the day they are no longer friends.
The second message played. "Leese? We still on for tonight? Call me."
She'd call Danielle back right now, but she was late for work. And given that she ran the damned place, that meant work wasn't even open yet. She started her car and headed out. She thought for a moment, then said, "Siri. Play Poets of the Fall."
She wasn't sure how her dream had shown her a logo for a band she never heard of, or if it was even a band at all. Then she realized that band Ts are pretty much par for the course at the parlor. She'd probably spotted it on one of the clients, banked it subconsciously and tossed it onto the dream man so he wouldn't be naked. Now why would you go and do a silly thing like that, Lisa? she thought to herself with a smirk.
After thinking for a moment, the phone began to spit out some music. The man began singing, Lying in the arms of night. In the shadows of the firelight. Suspended by this feeling of fading away. I wanna run away with you, so meet me by the cut through. Together we'll make our sweet escape.
"Hmm, dream man has good taste," she said to herself. A glance at the album cover on the phone told her this song was from the moth adorned album from the man's shirt. She wished she could remember what client she'd seen it on. She always had a shitty memory. But if she could remember, she could maybe find him and tell him she liked his taste in music. She did have over a hundred security tapes, and she was just desperate enough to watch through them.
Then again, she shared a few bands in common with Rick, so that wasn't exactly soul mate criteria. She pulled up behind the building around the time the singer was going on about a carnival getting covered in rust due to a lack of love. She laughed as she turned the car off and said, "I feel ya, man." Then she let out a sigh as she saw Danielle waiting for her. This wouldn't upset her nearly as much if it weren't thirty degrees out.
Danielle stood there in yoga pants covered with a pair of jean shorts, her knee high fluffboots, as Lisa called them, and a sweater that was clearly not designed for any actual warmth. Just like with the dream man, she'd long since played the celebrity game with her BFF. She'd come to the reasonable assertion that she looked like Mila Kunis had devoured another, smaller Mila Kunis, and had had the great fortune for the fat to go exactly where it needed to while avoiding where it didn't. What the boys these days had taken to calling "Thicc." What the point of the letter change was, she didn't know. She just knew she had seen it online, including in Rick's search history, which she'd only checked in an attempt to get a peek into any fetishes he had that she could facilitate in a vain attempt to prove her worth to him.
"Danny, I'm so sorry," she jumped out of the car and ran over.
"Less apologizing, more door unlocking and rubbing my butt until I can feel it."
She nodded and fumbled for her keys, "I am the master of unlocking." They'd had the locks replaced a few days prior and Lisa hadn't gotten around to getting duplicate keys made for Danielle.
Danielle laughed through chattering teeth, "Great. Resident Evil references. Wait, does that make me Barry?"
"Oh please. You're just pretty and girly enough to be Leon."
They shared a laugh as she opened the door and stepped inside. Danielle ran over to the front door and unlocked it, then flipped the closed sign over. Lisa turned the lights on and started sorting through supplies that didn't need sorted.
Danielle seemed to notice this, as she walked over and asked, "Something bothering you, Leese?"
"I'm good."
"Lisa."
She sighed, "I was in the shower earlier. I, uh..."
"What?"
Lisa slid her shirt sleeve up, "I can still see them. I'm not supposed to be able to see them anymore. The doctor promised."
Danielle put her arms around Lisa, "You've always been as pale as a ghost, sweetheart. It'll take longer for you. Besides, you can barely see them anymore."
She sighed, "I guess you're right."
"So I heard Marko serenading you on the way up."
"Huh?"
"Lead singer of Poets of the Fall? Didn't know you were a fan."
Lisa chuckled, "Oh, I saw the name on a t-shirt. Decided to check it out."
"You need to watch their music videos. They're amazing," she said as she turned to the sound of the door opening. "Be with you in a moment." She turned back to Lisa, "I left you a message."
Lisa nodded, "Yeah, I got it. We're still on." She laughed, "Rick left another one too."
Danielle groaned.
"Look, Danny. I know you're worried about me, but I swear, I'm okay. Rick has worked his way through the pussy parade, starting with the whore he cheated on me with. Now he thinks he can get back in with me. I just find it entertaining, that's all."
Danielle stared her down.
Lisa rolled her eyes and sat her phone down on the table, "Fine, you block his number. You know my pin. I'll deal with the client." She headed out to the desk to find a gaunt man standing impatiently. "What can I do for you?"
"Can I get a tattoo?"
"No, we sell hoagies."
The man looked at her for a moment, then turned to leave.
"I was joking, dude. Think you'd know that by the walls literally being covered in tattoo designs. Also the name of the store."
He sighed and turned back to her, "Maybe leave the jokes to funny people. I want a swastika, on the back of my head."
Lisa looked him over. Everything about his appearance was disgusting, but far too perfectly so. Between that, and the fact that there was a slight, low hanging bulge under his left jacket pocket, gave her what she needed. She sighed, "How long are you going undercover?"
He held onto the bridge of his nose, "Fuck. If you were able to figure it out..."
"Back of the head is the go to location for cops who need tattoos for undercover work. I've done them before. Then you grow your hair back out when you're done." She smiled, "Let me tat your cock. Nobody will doubt you for a second."
"I think my wife might have a slight problem with that."
"And not with the one on your head?"
"My wife is an artist. She mocked this up for me," he handed her a sheet of paper with a swastika drawn on it. "In about six months, I'll be back in here to get you to turn it into this," he handed her another sheet. This time with a Celtic looking design. One would not be able to see the swastika in it unless they were actively looking for it.
She nodded, "You got it. Come with me." She led him into the back. "Danny, we got one neo nazi white supremacist skinhead to go."
"Oh I think Imma have to kill a bitch," Danny poked her head around the corner, only to see the man holding up his badge. She sighed, "All right, I'll get the shit."
Lisa was halfway through finishing the tattoo when she said, "This symbol makes me sad."
"And rain makes me wet. Your point?" the cop mumbled from the chair.
Lisa shook her head, "No, no. I don't mean that part. This symbol, depending on which way it faces, denotes life or death. It was actually quite a beautiful thing before some German asshole got pissy that nobody liked his shitty art."
The cop chuckled, "I'm pretty sure a little positive reinforcement wouldn't have saved the day with that guy."
Once she was done, the cop paid them and turned to leave. He stopped by the door, "In a few months I'll either be in here to get this horrible thing covered up or," he shrugged, "you'll be invited to my funeral."
When she returned to Danielle, Lisa said, "Too bad that guy is married. I could've went for someone like him."
Danielle looked at her, "Do you really think you should be concerned with who you could go for right now?"
Lisa stared at her, "When is this gonna stop?"
"What?"
"Get it through your head, Danny. I'm past that shit. Do you think I would have went two years sober if I wasn't? I'm ready to move on with my life. And I'm ready to date again."
"I just don't want to see you get hurt anymore."
"And you want to see me die alone for fear of pain?"
Danielle opened her mouth to speak, but her stern gaze softened instead. "No dear. I don't want that."
Lisa smiled, "I wish I could meet someone like my dream man."
"Huh?"
"Oh," she waved her hand dismissively, "I had this dream about a man I've never met before. Funny enough, it was him that was wearing a t-shirt with that band logo on it. Must've pulled it up from some distant memory of a client or something."
Danielle smirked, "I wonder if the client looks like the dream guy too. Maybe we could track him down."
Lisa returned the smile, but it was a bittersweet one, "No. I'd know it if I'd ever seen this guy. He's...amazing. I think it's just my subconscious building the kind of guy I want in my dreams."
Danielle pulled her shoulders up to her ears, "Tell me about him."
"What, no lectures about the kinds of guys I want?"
"After the tongue lashing you just gave me? C'mon, trynna be a good friend here."
"I've only spoken to him one time. I had a dream about a carnival. It's the one we went to after graduation, but it's kinda wacky."
"Wacky how?"
"Just the general laws of physics breaking you'd expect from a dream. Full on Terry Gilliam stuff."
"Sounds fun."
Lisa nodded, "We were up in a Ferris wheel. He was in the gondola in front of me, and he caught me staring at him. Gondola turned into a freaking monkey and carried him over to mine. We chatted for a while then..." she grinned, "he kissed me. Then I woke up."
Danielle laughed, "First time he met you and he just kissed you?"
Lisa returned the laugh and said, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure consent laws aren't applicable in my own damn dreams. And I wanted him too anyway."
"Okay, but if loverboy offers you a drink, refuse. Don't want you getting dream roofied."
"Dude, what would even happen if I did get roofied in a dream?"
They smiled and said simultaneously, "Inception."
Lisa put on a mock Dicaprio impression and said, "We have to go deeper."
"Which is ironically what your dream boy would be thinking while he's date raping you."
"Okay that's too far," Lisa said. "Funny as hell, but too far."
"Hey, our friendship is pretty much built on too far jokes," Danielle said. She then glanced off into the middle distance and sighed. "Why can't my dreams be that pleasant?"
Lisa stared at her, "Because your life already is. Your dreams don't need to compensate."
Danielle's smiled faded, "Let's close shop early and go home."
Lisa shook her head, "You may have a husband to combine the proverbial bacon bringing with, but I need every client we can get."
"Mmm-hmm," Danielle nodded. Lisa understood the nod. It was a nod that said, "Hey, you know I'll help you out financially but since you're too proud to accept that I'll just let you play the strong independent idiot role."
There were several more clients before closing. They were in the middle of closing up when
Danielle got a call on her cell. She turned the phone off with a sigh, "Sweetie, that was Frank."
"What's up?" Lisa asked as she finished putting the ink away.
"The sitter just canceled. He needs me to go home and look after Katie."
"Can't he do that? Why do you have to cancel your plans and not him?"
"Don't put that on him," Danielle shook her head. "I get to see you nearly every day. Frank hasn't seen his buddy since college. We can hang out tomorrow night. Kay?"
Lisa shrugged, "Yeah, okay. At least let me drop you off."49Please respect copyright.PENANA81OekkEKOR