A TAIL OF WOE
A Jack Kemper Short
By John Blahut
The examination rooms at the Fleming Center for Medical Research are quite utilitarian. There's no table to sit on, no gown to change into, no counter of worrisome probes and such. Just remove one's clothing, let the scanner cycle do its thing and wait for the results. It's Liberty Island at its most efficient.
Marie, standing in front of a wall screen, intently reviews information as it displays. She adjusts a few knobs and presses a few buttons; eventually resulting in a very distinct series of tones.
The scanner winds down.
Sarah, standing naked in the middle of the room immediately asks, “So is it, Marie?”
Marie looks back over her shoulder and rolls her eyes disapprovingly, “Jesus, Sarah. How did you manage to get gonorrhea?”
Sarah’s eyes widen and her face starts to turn several new shades of red, “I knew it! That fucking Junior! I’m going to beat the shit out of him next time I see him!”
Marie finds it hard to hold back a laugh, “You fucked Junior? Oh my god! Why?”
An immediate look of shame comes over Sarah, “Look, I can’t be held responsible for my actions after half a dozen of Jim’s drinks.”
Marie shakes her head in disbelief, “You’re an adult, Sarah. Own it.”
A sly smile creeps out of Sarah’s face, “Fine! He has a cute butt.”
“I’ll give you that.” Marie replies with a wink.
“Well, I wanted to see if he had any other cute bits.”
“And?”
Sarah looks down as if imagining it while trying to use her hands to help describe it, “Well,” she stammers, “I wouldn’t call it cute exactly.”
“What would you call it?”
She firmly replies, “Aggressive.”
Marie grabs her on the shoulder, “Those are my favorite kind!”
“Really? Is Darrel’s? Nevermind, that wasn’t the best part.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No. Would you believe he wanted me to tie him up?”
Marie’s eyes widen, “ooo, do tell!”
“Well, I tied him up and smacked him around several different ways.”
“Nice!”
Sarah begins to cringe, “Then it got weird.”
Marie nods her head and smiles, “Oh, then it got weird?” she asks sarcastically.
“Hey, do you want to hear it or not?”
“Definitely, yes. Sorry.”
“He wanted me to call him Sam and ….”
Having a confused look on her face Marie interrupts, “Sam? Like our Sam?”
Sarah nods back very slowly in the affirmative.
“And?”
Sarah shrugs her shoulders, “I used some celery on him.”
Marie is in total disbelief at this point, “What?”
“Yeah, it was the craziest shit. Some sort of food fetish.”
“Seems like a crazy waste of celery to me.”
“Well, you’d think that. But…”
“But what?”
She chuckles, “He did eat it.”
Marie slowly shakes her head, “I don’t even know what to say to that. And I’m best friends with Jack Kemper.”
There’s a short pause as they both try to equate Jack’s stories to Sarah’s; looking for one that might be close.
“But you came, right?”
“Oh, fuck yeah I did.”
Marie walks over to the far wall and a panel slides open, “Sounds like a good albeit weird time then.”
Sarah agrees, “Except for the parting gift of gonorrhea, it was fun.”
Marie holds up a hypersonic needle, “Well, we’ve got a shot for that.”
“Still pisses me off.”
Marie pulls a vial of antibiotics off the shelf, “This works pretty fast.” She loads the vial into the hypersonic needle and adjusts the dosage, “Okay, bend over baby!”
Sarah puts her hands on her knees and bends over, “Be gentle!”
Marie gives her the poke, “There ya go. No sex for a week.”
Sarah can’t believe what she just heard, “You’re kidding, right?”
Marie smiles through pursed lips, “Nope.”
Sarah walks over to the stand on which her dress is hanging, “He’s so getting his ass beat for this when he gets back!”
Marie chuckles, “You’ll live. So you’ll be at dinner tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Sarah replies as she slips her dress on.
“Okay, hon, I gotta go do my rounds.”
Sarah gives Marie a hug, “Thanks dear, I’m off to Jim’s for a stiff one.”
“Hey a stiff one is what got you into this.”
“Oh, funny.”
“Be safe-r.”
Sarah turns back to look at Marie as she’s just about out the door, “You should be a comedian.”
Da’Piss’n Pirate is a shanty bar that floats just outside the city limits of Liberty Island. Most importantly, it’s the shanty bar where Jim serves his homemade brew.
Sarah found her way to Da’Piss’n Pirate directly after receiving her bad news. After all, what’s a girl to do if she can’t fuck? She wasn’t surprised to find the place quite full, however, she was confused by the fact that there were two open stools at the bar even though several patrons chose to stand at each end. She makes her way to the bar and sits down on one of the open stools.
Jim is behind the counter as always. Wiping down glasses, topping off drinks and making small talk like a man born to his profession.
“Hey, Jim!” Sarah waves to get his attention.
Jim’s eyes light up, “Hey Sarah, my love, how are you doing this evening?”
“Pretty good, sir, pretty good. Think I could get a glass of the good stuff.”
“For you, dolly, it’s always the good stuff.”
Jim reaches under the bar and pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels. He pulls a glass off the rack above the bar and pours two fingers worth. “Here ya go, love.”
Sarah takes a drink, smiles and looks around the bar. She notices that everyone seems to be avoiding her general area. Almost like they know she hooked up with Junior. She turns to the guy sitting next to her at the bar and says, “Hi, I’m Sarah, with an ‘h’.”
He looks quite perturbed by this introduction, “With an ‘h’. So you’re Sa’Rah?” he asks in a heavy eastern European accent.
Sarah is confused by his reaction, “What? Why would you say it like that? It’s just Sarah. S-A-R-A-H”
The man takes a drink and snarls, “Maybe that’s how it’s pronounced in Mooseknuckle, Manitoba, but where I come from we learn to pronounce our letters properly. If you spell it with an ‘h’ at the end it should be Sa Rah.”
Normally this type of attitude would really piss Sarah off. She briefly entertains the thought of smashing the guys dick off with a blunt rock, but instead she takes a deep breath and calmly says, “You know. I like smart guys. Are you here with anyone?”
This catches the man completely off guard. He wasn’t expecting to be the recipient of a woman’s advances, “Uh no, Sa’Rah, I’m not.”
“Well this is your lucky night, Einstein.” She slams her drink, smiles and says, “Make this one a double, Jim.”