Chapter 1
I'm not sure when I became who I am: that is a burning ball of indecision. As I stand here in front of the Costco rotisserie chickens attempting to decide which one is the most brown I can't help but wonder why it matters. I don't even like chicken and I'm here worrying about which one is best.
Fuck
My
Life
I'll just eat a salad
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I live by a system, a very strict and important system.
I wake up at three-thirty
Procrastinate
Shower
Neglect to eat
Go to work
I love my job and my job loves me. I'm a quantum physicist for GALANT, a fortune five hundred company attempting to break into rocket manufacturing and chartering. I don't really care about the company just that it pays for my graduate schooling and Netflix subscription. And just like my morning, my day has a system: sit and work till I'm done.
I don't have hours and I don't need them. I calculate, revise, and submit for review. I am a machine no feelings, no sadness, no burning resentment towards my mother, just work and work is good it-"Tilly Tillerson, my favorite fat-bottomed co-worker how ya doin' sweet cheeks?" Fucking Wendy, I have a method of approach for Wendy: don't. "This is a workplace and I would appreciate it if you didn't harass me." Of course, this never works. "Babe, you know you love me. And I love that ass." If I had to decide between eating an apple and having a conversation with an extrovert, I'd choose the apple. I'm allergic to apples. "I'm busy Wendy." Of course, this didn't work either because she just got closer, I could smell her warm vanilla body spray, her fading purple hair covering my screen. "Well aren't you just a ball of sunshine, ya know I have just the cure for that. Some dick. You need to get dicked down and I know how you're gonna do it." Sometimes I hate myself. "What?" She zeroed in on my eyes like a house cat, and I couldn't look away. "There's this club that my boyfriend opened and I think you could benefit from what it has to offer." I'm interested. Despite crippling sensitivity to my environment I'd been looking to have a club experience; I'm twenty-one and spend my free time playing mahjong against an AI. I need to at least give myself an opportunity to experience the world like others do; with others.
"Okay, when, where, and what's the dress code?" I've seen a lot of things in my lifetime. A frog burst open in a microwave, a woman breastfeed her cat, a man injected himself with his own seamen, and yet I never thought I'd see the day where Wendy Helena Nygard was speechless. Nothing came out just a gaping pair of royal purple lips. And then it was over. "Oh my God, I didn't think you'd say yes I...fuck...I YES. I'm going to get to know you. I'm going to figure out why you don't like being touched. I'm, going to get into your closet and steal all of your sexy ass black boots. I'm going to fucking squeeze that ass. I'm going to..." Nope. "Wendy, I've agreed to go out, not scissor and talk out my childhood, will you please let me know the aforementioned information?" She just smiled and shook her head, slowly, she couldn't belive I was real. Neither could I most days. "Sure babe, gimme your number I'll text you, yea?" I gave her my number and went back to work, listening to her kitten heels pitter-patter away excited at the prospect of getting to know me.
I would not let that happen.
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Friday night
10 pm
199833, Backboard lane
Club Veracity
Wear something sexy and ask for me at the yellow door.
See ya then sweet cheeks <3
FUCK. I was going to do this. I'm going to a club. I'm going to try and have sex. No, I'm not. I'm going to try and have a conversation with a man that has a penis and could penetrate me with it. Yea, I can do that. If I can fucking decide on what to wear.
What does sexy mean? Some people find grandmas sexy. Should I put on a knitted perry-winkle sweater vest and loose in the ass tight in the calf capris? I haven't been in a social setting with people my age since I was six and I went to Billy Smith's seventh birthday where I threw sand in his eyes when he asked me if I was broken because I couldn't say blueberry (it's a tough word, Billy.) And that interaction was the last I had: one, with someone of the opposite gender that didn't revolve around yesterday's homework, and two, in a large social gathering of peers. I was about to break a fifteen-year streak; I don't know why they call virgins losers, I am winning at not having sex constantly for twenty-one years. I'd like to see someone have sex constantly for twenty-one years. Can't be done, I rest my case.
Back to the matter at hand, I have no outright 'sexy' clothing so I was going to have to make do with what I had. A deep red corset, that may or may not be lingerie, and a pair of tight-fitting black leather pants, black heeled boots, and a tan trench coat.
I look sexy.
I am sexy.
I will do my best to enjoy myself.
I got this.
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Or not.
