#FinishThatThought 33 : I Ran For The Door

I ran for the door, but someone had taken the keys. I paused, looking at the car. “Crap!” I pounded the roof, causing the metal to dent. I grabbed my phone, and punched speed dial for 6, my lawyer.

“What is it now, Harry?”

“The keys to my car are missing.”

“They’re not missing, Harry. And they’re not your keys. They’re her keys.”

“You mean…”

“She got the car too.”

I looked up at God, and the universe, and screamed.

“Now, Harry. That’s no way to behave.”

“No way to behave?” I stomped my feet. “No way to behave!” I held the phone out at arm’s length, and looked at it like it was stupid. “Really? Really?” I pulled the phone in, “She got MY car too?!”

“What can I say? The judge agreed with her.”

There were times I wanted to shoot that woman. Times I wish I had. Every time I reached that point, I suddenly calmed down. “Yeah. I can see that.”

“Better?”

“Where you recommend I stay?”

My lawyer was nothing, if not honest. “Skip town, Harry. Get a job somewhere. Making enough to live on. The judge will adjust how much you pay her.”

“Skip town?”

“Yeah. Start over.” There was a pause. “And, Harry? Don’t sleep around this time.”

“Yeah. I know.” I paused, remembering the times I never went home at night. The times I woke up the next morning in some gals apartment, or home. And she was in the bed with me. Naked. And it was obvious what we’d done.

“How many?” I asked.

“Too many, Harry. Too many.” After a moment, he said, “Use your credit card, Harry. While you still can. Get a ticket on a plane. Go somewhere you can find a job.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere.” He laughed. “You can even catch a taxi to the airport. And Harry.”

“Yeah.”

“No screwing around.”

He hung up. I stared at the phone. Then looked down at my crotch. “You know how much trouble you’ve aused?” Of course, it didn’t answer. Other than to send chemicals racing through my body. “And after all this, you still want to find a gal to bang?” I shook my head.

I ordered plane tickets to Phoenix. The flight left the next afternoon. I flagged a taxi. When to a bar. Had a drink. Danced with a pretty girl. Woke up the next morning, naked, in her bed. With her. I didn’t even remember her name.

I looked at my crotch. “Will you ever learn?”

418 Words
@LurchMunster


I wrote this for Week 33 of Alissa Leonard‘s Finish That Thought. Please, go read all the creatively shared stories in this week’s challenge.

#ThursThreads : But It’s Not Enough…

“Have I told you what an idiot you are?” James let his beer bottle thunk down on the bar.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” I answered. Letting my own bottle thunk down. “Only about a zillion times.”

“Then how come you never listen to me?” James shook his head. He had a valid point. Sometimes, I was just flat stupid. “Turning off your brain cells, listening to your pecker again.” He took a big chug of his beer. “You know that’s always trouble.”

Yeah. I knew. I stared at my beer. Michelle. She was absolutely stunning. Any guy I knew would be happy to call her their own. And she’d been mine. Until I saw Stacy. Sexy, hot Stacy. With those hips that swayed as she walked. Those perfect knockers. It was like my brain cells just quit working.

We had an affair. Me and Stacy. Damn, but she was fun. But, she was trouble too. And I knew if Michelle ever found out.  And she did find out. And I went home one day, and my keys didn’t work. And I couldn’t call her on the phone. And her lawyer walked up and handed me the papers. Divorce. Just like that.

“You had the perfect girl, bean-dip,” James took another chug of beer. “But it’s not enough for you, is it.” He chuckled. “Was Stacy worth it?”

I laughed. Paused. Grinned. “Yeah. She sure as hell was.”

—–

I wrote this flash fiction piece with the intention of posting it to the #ThursThreads challenge today. But, that was not to be. Sigh. So, I’m putting it here, on my blog. All 243 words of it.