Dinner and a Beating

The heart isn’t always a lonely hunter. Benny the Brain was quite the hunter, tomorrow would be Valentine’s Day and he had three girlfriends to take care of. He’d just gone through a terrible holiday season financially, gifts multiplied by three could be very expensive. Money was one problem, the wear and tear on his mind and body were others. Keeping three lovers happy was killing him.
Most would look at Benny and assume he would be lucky to have even a single girlfriend. He was short, chubby, pasty, and balding badly. He did have a couple of things going for him though, money, and a good line of bullshit. His gift of gab made his job as a Mercedes salesman easy. He’d been the number one salesman at his dealership for ten years running. There was nothing more attractive to a certain kind of woman then a fat, bald guy driving a brand-new Mercedes.
Things were getting pretty tight with his cash flow. He was taking in about the same as always, but his spending was getting ridiculous. Most mortal men would think about dropping a girlfriend or two, not Benny. Instead he would try to cheap his way out of Valentine’s Day. A single rose, a card, and the promise of romance should do it. He would take his favorite, Jean, out to dinner. Marge and Sally would have to understand that his mother, who lived upstate, had taken ill and he needed to be with her. He told both the story as he delivered his gifts. Neither was happy, but both women bought his story. It wasn’t easy getting a reservation so late, but he managed to get one at one of the finer restaurants in town. It would cost him plenty, he had no choice.
Benny and Jean thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company and the four-star dinner. Jean was a beautiful woman and when she suggested that they go back to her apartment afterwards Benny gulped down his dessert so fast he almost choked. Jean went to use the ladies room as he paid the check. When she returned, she wasn’t alone. Benny looked up from the check to find the unsmiling faces of Jean, Marge, and Sally. They stood there staring at him, he guessed they were waiting for some kind of explanation. He had none, so he asked, “How did you find out?”
Marge answered, “Remember when you left your cell phone at my place, you cheating moron?”
“Yea, but it has a password on it.”
“It was hard to figure out, genius. Everyone knows you shouldn’t use the word “password” as a password. I saw your texts to Sally and Jean and the three of us had a nice lunch together. By the way, how is your poor sick mother, you lying piece of garbage?”
The maître-de sensed that there was going to be trouble at the table, so he went over and politely asked them to leave. Benny was reluctant to go, no telling what these three crazy women had in mind for him once they were outside. He soon found out. Once in the parking lot, Sally, the smallest and most timid of the three, smacked him across the face with the Gucci bag he had bought for her. Much worse followed. Together, they were able to wrestle him to the pavement. The three irate women commenced to kicking him with the points of their high heels and stepping on him with the heels. Jean took particular pleasure in kicking him in the crotch. They left him in the parking lot bleeding and barely conscious.
A customer from the restaurant found him crumbled up in the fetal position and called the police. While waiting for an ambulance to arrive Patrolman Harris took Benny’s statement. Benny told him about the three girlfriends and how they had beaten him. He noticed the cop smiling and asked him what the hell was he smiling about. “Don’t you believe I got beaten?”
“Yes, I think you got beat up. It’s the part about the three girlfriends I find hard to believe. Why don’t you tell me what really happened? No jury is ever going to believe anything about you dating three women at the same time.”
So, Benny shut his mouth and didn’t press charges against anyone. He left town shortly after the incident and hasn’t been seen since.