The Choochie Couch

Short Story

Virginia, Ginny to her friends and family, sat on the stool and cajoled the bartender into serving just one more drink. When she shut one eye, the woman looked pretty damn cute, and there was only one of the attractive woman, so she figured one more drink wouldn't kill her. She'd already had two above her limit, but who was counting? Besides, wasn't that what a person was supposed to do when your lover of ten years decided to move out and take every last piece of furniture with her? It didn't matter that she'd paid for half. What Cynthia wanted, she got.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, so Ginny begged her best friend, Hillary, to move in with her. At the time, she never expected it would be across the country. The timing couldn't be more perfect for either of them. Hillary's lover had just kicked her to the curb. The reason seemed a bit shallow to Ginny, but she had her own shit to deal with, so she'd simply offered a solution to a problem. Who dumps their girlfriend because she has a terrible fashion sense and questionable home-decorating skills? Hillary needed a place to live, and she had furniture to offer. It was a done deal. Ginny would somehow deal with her secret and find a way to make it work. She'd been hiding that love for fifteen years. Sure, living together would create the kind of acute pain she wasn't looking forward to, but at least her best friend would be close again.

Maybe they'd been a tad bit rash when they decided to play a modified pin the tail on the donkey as a solution to finding their new home. Hillary had flown out to be the shoulder for Ginny to cry on and vice versa. She could do that as a freelance writer. As Ginny recalled that fateful evening, she grimaced at the memory. Hillary had brought the very dangerous bottle of Fireball whiskey with her, and off they went. The only thing of any value Cynthia, her ex, had left behind was the globe made of semi-precious stones. Sitting in the middle of the floor, the globe mocked her. So she and Hillary had used the globe as a crystal ball. Although, even after several shots, they had rules. If they spun the globe, and their index finger landed on a foreign country, that wouldn't count. So they each gave themselves three spins with their eyes closed. After four shots, they made a sacred vow that if both of them landed on the same state by chance, it was a sign of where they were destined to move. Neither figured they would end up pointing at the great state of Texas, but a sacred vow is not something to mess with. It's venerable. Besides, they both decided a new start was in order.

When the moving van arrived from Chicago, Ginny wanted to be out of the way, so she decided to kill a few hours at the bar close to the house. She'd arrived in Texas several days before her best friend and had taken the time to scope out the area. Hillary had stayed back to supervise. She hated admitting that she was still raw from her break-up, and alcohol would take the edge off and tenderize her in preparation for the inevitable cryfest with her friend. Hillary continued to obsess over the cruel things her ex spewed at Hillary's expense. They would start their wet t-shirt contest with the tears they both still needed to shed.

"Thanks," she slurred when the cute bartender set the drink in front of her.

"Hey, you're not planning on driving anywhere, are you?"

Ginny shook her head until she realized that was a bad idea. "Walking," she managed to answer.

"Okay, but no more batting your beautiful green eyes for another drink. This one's the last you're getting. Can I call someone to walk you home? I'd do it myself, but my shift doesn't end for another two hours."

"Oh, that's nice of you." When she reached for her drink, she sloshed liquid all over the bar. "Shit, I think I'm a wee bit tipsy. Better head home. At least I'll have a bed now."

After throwing a twenty on the bar, Ginny wobbled to her feet and zig-zagged her way to the door. Stumbling the two blocks home, she barely registered the moving truck backing out of her driveway. Carefully navigating the two steps to her front door, Ginny poked her key into the lock and forced it in on the fourth try. Before she could turn the key, the door opened, and Hillary raised her eyebrow. At least, that's what Ginny thought she saw happen.