Bait

Bait - A fishing story of sorts…



Yep, I looked good.  My blonde hair was shiny and flowing around my shoulders.  My eyes a smoky charcoal gray and my lips were done up with “Perfect Pucker Peach” and it just so happened that my lip color perfectly matched my stilettos.  My jeans fit like a glove and my top showed just enough cleavage to make them boys want to see some more.  I grabbed my purse and was off to Arnold’s.  It was Thursday night, which meant Lady’s night, which meant I drank for free.

Moving as quietly as my high heels would allow on the wood floor, I snuck past the living room where my mother sat watching Wheel of Fortune while she drank her sixth pepsi cola of the day and yelled at Pat Sajak for being a cheat with Vanna White.  Yep, 29 years old and still living at home with my mother was not the most ideal situation - especially when it came to my love life.  Don’t even get me started.



I was out the door and standing at the curb when my friend Millie came tearing around the corner in her purple KIA, which she drove like she thought she was Dale Earnhardt, Jr.  I jumped in as soon as she came to a stop and fastened myself in for the short, but wild ride to Arnold’s as Millie peppered me with expletive ridden details on her boyfriend Moose’s latest mistake.

Millie and I had been friends since her family had moved to Fayetteville back when we were in grade school.  She had shocking red hair which she had worn in Pippy Longstocking-like braids when she was young, but now kept it so short she rivaled Moose’s buzz cut in terms of length.  She had on camouflage pants and a tube top with bright red converse shoes.  Her choice of dress and hair style usually led to a couple of misguided remarks about our being “partners”, which always made me turn red as her shoes and made her cackle to no end.



At barely eight in the evening, Arnold’s was already starting to get packed in anticipation of the local band “Mudpuckers” coming on at nine.  Millie went for round one of our beers while I grabbed our usual table for two close to the stage.  That is when I saw him seeing me, and boy was he ever hot!  I gave him that look and faster than you could count the tits on a cow; he was headed over my way.  OMG, I didn’t even have time to touch up my lipstick!



Just before he reached our table Millie appeared with our beers and before I knew what was happening, intercepted his approach.  “Buzz off cowboy - we got some girl talking to do.”



I could have killed her as he just smiled in my direction, shrugged his shoulders and headed off in the direction of the little boys room.  I have never been a big fan of Moose’s and I didn’t really relish listening to Millie’s further diatribe on how he couldn’t keep a certain item in his pants.  But, I listened and I did so until I was mercifully saved by the starting up of the band and Millie going to the girl’s room.

The band started off fast and furious with their rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama” and I was tapping my foot in time to the music when I felt a tap on my shoulder.  It was him, the good-looking guy from earlier and my heart did a little pitter patter.  He gestured towards the dance floor and I grabbed him by the hand and rushed him away from the table before Millie could intercept again.



Five hours later, it was closing time, and I don’t know how many beers later, Hooch, yes, that was his name walked Millie and I out to her purple KIA where he proceeded to check if I had my tonsils or not.  I was feeling pretty high on life, planning our wedding and naming our two kids when he whispered in my ear, “So gorgeous…your place or mine?” 



I confidently explained that there would be no “your place or mine” tonight to his non-smiling face and then watched as he turned and headed back towards the bar, with “Suit yourself” as his parting words.



I was so upset that I barely noticed the trash can Millie nearly took out as she rounded the corner to my street, but I did notice the glow of the television coming from inside the living room of my house.  Crap!  That could only mean one thing - my mother was awake and waiting on me.  Double crap!



I barely got the front door closed before she appeared in the hallway.  “Well, you sure know how to worry your mother staying out so late.”  She had this pissed looking face that went along swimmingly with the foam rollers in her hair.

“Mom, please not tonight.  I am tired.”  And that is when I started crying.



Two glasses of milk, five chocolate chip cookies and the whole story of Hooch told to my foam curler- haired mom, and you know what she said?



“Well, baby girl, first of all you don’t go hooking up with a guy named Hooch.  Second of all, nothing good ever came out of meeting a guy in a bar and, last but not least, you know what your Granny Dee used to say – you catch the fish by the bait you use on your hook.”

There it is…I told you…a fishing story of sorts.  What wisdom my mom did impart though.  My bait obviously attracted bottom feeders and my “Perfect Pucker Peach” lipstick?  It’s going in the trash!



Word Count:  963