Hot Chick

HOT CHICK

         Chester shuffled his feet in the dirt as Pete approached him at the edge of the park.

         "You should have seen this chick last night," bragged Chester.

         "What chick?"

         "The one at the arcade, dude. She is one cool chick."

         "Aw, come on, Chester, you think they're all cool."

         "Yeah but this one is the coolest, Pete. She's got these blue eyes that sink right down into you as if she's searching for your soul, and she makes your legs feel like butter melting and your heart flutter."

         "Did you talk to her?"

         "Of course, dude. Who do you think I am? Some sort of dweeb?"

         "Hey, don't take offense, man. I was just curious. So what did she say?"

         "She didn't have to say much. Her bod said it all. The way she hung her arms, flashed her melons, and swung her hips at me said a lot."

         "Melons?"

         "Oh yeah. Pretty well hung for 15 I'd say."

         "Wow. Wish I'd gone with you. Did she say anything at all?"

         "Oh sure. We talked. And she flashed her eyes at me and her lips - red as cherries."

         "Come on then. What did she say? Does she like you?"

         "Oh yeah. She likes me all right. Completely in love with me and that's for sure. I could tell I'm her kind of guy."

         "How can you tell?"

         "It's just the way it hits you right here." Chester thumped his chest with his fist.

         "Right. Hits you below the belt, too, I bet."

         "C'mon Pete, don't talk about her like that. She's not that kind of girl."

         "Sorry."

         "We spent the evening together. Got to know each other a bit. She's just real cool."

         "You already said that, Chester. So did you --"

         "She likes me, Pete. This one is for keeps. It's a serious relationship, and you don't rush those kinds. Didn't your dad tell you that?"

         "Okay, fine. So you're telling me you didn't score."

         "Right."

         "You kiss her?"

         "Well, no."

         "Hold hands?"

         "Not exactly."

         "Well, you must have done something. What did you do?"

         "She gave me her number."

         "At least that's a start. Did you call her?"

         "Not yet. I want you to call her for me."

         "What? You nervous?"

         "She might turn me down."

         "So what! Just ask her to the movies or something. She can only answer yes or no."

         "It's the 'no' part that worries me. C'mon Pete. Haven't we been best friends forever?"

         "Chester -"

         "Look. If you do this for me, I'll buy you a strawberry sundae."

         "No."

         "Look. I'll even let you date her if she doesn't like me."

         "Well - "

         "She's a hot chick, Pete. I'd do it for you."

         "Okay, fine. Just this once."

         Chester and Pete walked over to the payphone outside Albertson's. Chester waited nervously as Pete fumbled with the coins and small piece of paper that had the number printed neatly on it.

         He waited impatiently as Pete dialed the number.

         "Hello. Is Pamela there?" Pete stood for a minute listening, then hung up the phone.

         "What did you do that for, you jerk?" Chester was peeved.

         "Wrong number, Chester." Pete was grinning from ear to ear. "That was the mortuary."