after hours - larry

2

unedited

"no, um i want to know where you keep the.. you know.. tamp-"

"we no sell trampoline." the woman speaks in her thick taiwanese accent.

"no... i need, some.." i slowly walk over to her and put my lips to her ear.

she slaps me in the shoulder, probably as hard as the tiny woman could. "no! no. you handsome but i married."

"i just need some damn tampons!" i yell a little bit too loud, quickly regretting the outburst and shoving my palm over my brow.

"indeed you do." she responds, taken aback by my behavior. i hope she doesn't think i was disgusted by her or something, she seems sweet enough.

i look to my orange tennis shoes in shame and wait for her to return.

"here you go, sir." she places the package of women's products in my hands and i walk towards the cash register quickly.

i pay for them in record time and practically sprint to my car.

"what took you so long?" my girlfriend asks as she sits in the passenger seat of my too-nice-for-a-telemarkerter-car as she puts even more makeup on. i throw the tampons in her lap without responding.

"don't be mad." she sighs. "i would've felt mortified in these crocs."

"you didn't think i was mortified?" i say a little too loud. "you constantly rip away my manhood." she laughs.

she always makes me feel like a small boy, or even worse a little girl. i try not to complain but last night she literally whipped me.

don't ask.

i'd say i'm the submissive type, but not when it comes to women. i'm bisexual and the thought of a guy tying my hands behind my back is so much hotter than a girl. hell, i might even be into a guy whipping me.

its just hard for me to get off with her.

not that she cares, though. like she literally does not give a shit if i cum or not. she'll just lay down and go to sleep while i'm in the middle of my business.

"i'm done with it. the tampon buying, the little spoon, the fucking tucking." i abruptly say. that's another thing i don't want to be asked about.

"i liked it." kat shrugs.

"damn it kat." i look at her. "you always make me feel like shit. you got me a nail file on my birthday."

she chuckles but immediately covers it up with her hand. "of course i do. i know, i'm sorry babe, i've just been so stressed and you relieve that for me. you've been doing great. thank you." she says and touches my shoulder reassuringly.

"how am i supposed to relieve my own stress?" i ask her. "you stress me out all the time. you stress me out when you're destressing. how does that even work?"

"here, find a sport of your choice. anything." she rubs my back as i begin driving home.

she loves me no matter how selfish she seems. i'm only 23, i don't need anything long term. besides, she's a good friend, its just the romantic relationship part i struggle with.

"yoga." i respond without even thinking.

yoga actually seemed nice, thinking about it. it would be great to feel at peace for a bit. maybe i'll make some new friends too.

"yoga? really?" she cocks an eyebrow, i look at her and she seems to accept the idea. "okay, just seems a bit weird for a guy claiming that someone else is making him feel less masculine." she takes a breath. "there's a little yoga studio by the jamba juice on fifth. you can go tonight. all by yourself."