Chapter 3---All Work, No Play, and Sexy Sadie
You know those guys that can never seem to take "no" for an answer...Paul turned out to be one of them. Even though I openly voice the fact I had a thing for George, Paul was intent upon winning my heart...fat chance. Elvis had a better chance than Paul...and I HATED Elvis. But for some reason, it never registered in Paul's mind.
He had taken to following me around at work...calling me at 4 in the morning to say he loved me. He was one sick puppy. In case you haven't noticed, I'm one of those people that doesn't believe in love. To me, it was just a lovely little concept that the makers of Valentine's Day came up with in order to make money. Paul was getting annoying, George was too timid on dates...I mean, we had been on three dates and he still hadn't made a move to kiss me! Though I was planning to remedy that if we went on another one, and John...well, John was John.
He usually took he to work, waited on my bed while I fumbled around in my walk-in closet to find my meter miad uniform. One the particular day in question...I had left my work shirt on the floor next to my bed, where I had flung it off the day before.
"Johnny," I called sweetly. "Could you be a darling and give me my work shirt off the floor beside my bed?"
"Depends...what do I get for payment?"
I peeped my head around my closet doorway and looked at John. He had that ever-present grin on his face. "My graditude?" I replied, knowing he train of thought.
"That's all?" he scoffed. "I was at least 'opin' for a finger pie..."
"John! Just bring me me my gosh darn shirt,"I snapped, too mad at that point to cuss.
"'Gosh darn'??? Since when do you say 'gosh darn'," he teased. "Yer gonna 'ave t' come get it...I'm too lazy to bring it to ya."
"John," I said sweetly. "Either you bring me that shirt or I tie you up with it after I get changed after work."
"You say that like it supposed to be a threat," John said raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"John...bring me my shirt or I'll beat you until you can no longer breathe," I threatened.
"First you threaten to tie me up, then you threaten sadism...You're just making me less afraid and more excited," John giggled. "You intimidation mesures are just turning me on."
Using a few "colorful adjectives," I convinced John it would be in his best interest to bring me my shirt...so he did.
While I was finishing getting ready. I heard my mom come in and start talking to John. I loved my mother dearly...but like those cliche rich women, she had a serious problem staying faithful to my step-father. Not that I minded, I hated my step father. My mom was often called "Sexy Sadie" by some of the younger neighborhood boys. She often lured young men into her web by giving her a sob story about how she had a bad back, couldn't get out and work her gardens, and that her husband and daughters worked all the time. Then she would add that it would be "worth their time" if they came and did it for her.
Problem with her story was...we didn't HAVE a garden. The boys knew this. In fact, while I was getting ready for work, I could hear her propsitioning John for like the umpteenth time.
"...and my rose garden is just going to ruin because of my back, I can't get out there and tend to it the way I'm supposed to...and my girls think they need to work...my husband, you've seen 'im Johnny, there's no way I'm letting that clumsy lout near my gardens...Why are you backing away...I don't bite Johnny."
"That's not what I'm afraid of," John had replied.
This is the point I have to tell you, my mother is where I get many of my mannerisms. We're both very forward and once we get hooked on having something, we don't stop until we have it. I also had a feeling John was just resisting her for my sake.
I fished my hat off the top shelf in my closet and put it on. It was time to rescue poor, innocent John for the vile clutches of my mother. When I stepped out of the closet, she had a firm grip on his arm and whispering in his ear. He wasn't exactly trying his best to get away. In fact...whatever my mother was whispering had him grinning like the Cheshire Cat in that Lewis Carrol book Alice in Wonderland. I cleared my throat and my mother quickly stood up.
I resembled my mother alot...only she had bright green eyes that shined like two emerald's on a porcelin doll. "I guess it's off to work you go Rita," she said, clearing her throat slightly. "Have fun."
"I will," I grumbled, pulling John to his feet.
When John had driven me to my destination I said, "I'll call you if Paul shows up again today. And please don't go help my mom."
"I won't," John replied quickly. I could tell he was lying because he didn't look at me in the eyes like he always did when speaking to me. Which only made me concider the offer Paul would most likely give me at work today.
Chapter Four
