Pins and Needles

I was professional as fuck

Mondays are what's wrong with today's society. It didn't matter whether you'd been sitting on your couch the entire weekend, petting your cats like an old spinster, or drinking with your friends. Mondays were never welcomed and why should they? Don't get me wrong, there wasn't a day that I didn't love being at the parlor.

But Mondays were like that annoying little cousin or slightly inappropriate uncle at family parties. You had to endure it and hope it would end soon.

Needless to say I wasn't all sunshine and rainbows when I walked through the door but when was I ever? Luckily, I knew my day was booked with clients so I'd be busy all day.

"Hey you," Brad greeted me in his usual chipper mood. As if he was too cool to be affected by Mondays. As if he'd been getting laid the entire weekend by that little slut.

I groaned something in response and went to my work station to prepare for my first customer.

"You seem in a bad mood, even for a Monday," Brad observed like the clever genius he is.

"I'm not," I shrugged, "my client's here," I said and greeted the young guy in a friendly manner. What? I was professional as fuck.

He wanted to get a tattoo of the name of his girlfriend. The guy was barely out of high school and I wanted to scream he was making the worst decision of his life but that wouldn't be appropriate. I cringed throughout the entire session as he gushed how in love he was and how he was going to reveal the tattoo and then pop the question.

I hoped for his sake that the girl wouldn't say no because that would be even more awkward.

He was like a lovesick puppy while I felt bad for his sorry ass. Talking about dogs, my inner dog was in heat again since I hadn't gotten laid since Thursday.

So when Brad came onto me during our lunch break I was stumped as to why I couldn't get myself to hop on and ride him like there was no tomorrow. Obviously a part of me did know, I didn't want him to stick it in when he'd been sticking it in with Scar. I needed to be sure he'd scrubbed his schlong.

As Brad kept kissing my neck, I couldn't shake the feeling and eventually I just pushed him aside. Great, it was one thing being sexually frustrated but it was another thing to refuse sex when you were.

"What's wrong?" Brad asked, instead of frustrated, he seemed to be concerned.

"I guess I'm not in the mood," I replied. The sentence seemed foreign to me and even Brad's eyebrow raised slightly because he'd never expected me to say that sentence.

"Okay, you gotta talk to me. You've been acting weird all day," Brad told me while grabbing some food from the fridge.

"It's Monday," I stated.

"Gwen, sit the fuck down," he sighed and I obeyed.

"Did something happen this weekend?" he asked when I was seated and I had a sandwich in front of me I wasn't planning on eating.

"I had an amazing weekend, actually. The gang got together and we got wasted like the good old days," I smiled, thinking about my stupid friends.

"At least one of us had a good weekend," he muttered quietly.

"You didn't?" I asked in return.

Brad seemed to be mulling things over in his head until he turned to me, "tell me, what did you think of Scar?" he then proceeded to ask.

Let's say there were multiple alarms going off in my head because obviously I couldn't tell the guy what I really thought about that skank but I wasn't going to lie either. "She was... a lot," I eventually winded up saying.