On Love and Wine

Bethany tilted her head back and downed the remaining wine from the glass. It had been about half full, and it was her third glass. She pushed the fingers of her right hand against her mouth and attempted to unsuccessfully stifle a laugh, as if the act of placing her hand over her lips could prevent its escape.

Annie sat across from her on the other couch. Her legs were splayed in the most un-ladylike fashion, and her unruly hair had mostly escaped the hair clip that had been intended to hold it back. Annie made no attempt to hold back her laughter. After nearly four glasses of cheap wine, her willpower and inhibitions were practically non-existent. “Listen, I am an expert. I and I tell you, she looks like a centaur.”

Bethany screamed with laughter. “How does she look like a centaur?”

“I don’t know. There’s just something horse-like about her. Like, if I had to hire a person to pull me in some sort of wagon, she looks like she’d be up for the job. Brawny, like a mother fucking centaur.”

Although Bethany did not see the resemblance between her ex’s new girlfriend and some sort of mythical horse woman, she greatly appreciated the sentiment. She could always count on Annie to rise to the occasion and tear to shreds any person who might be on her shit list. Today, it was the aforementioned centaur.

Annie abruptly changed the subject, as she was apt to do, especially when she was inebriated. “So, let me review this again, because you know I love to beat a dead horse. No pun intended toward fucking centaur woman.” Her words were starting to slur. She probably shouldn’t have another glass. She already knew she was in for a long night ahead, and likely a terrible morning. “That whole speech that he gave me at coffee last week, all that bullshit about never having met someone like me, and cupid or whatever bullshit he said, which I kind of thought was lame at the time, but whatever… so, this girl Amy messages me on Facebook,” she stopped, took a look at her empty glass, took a breath, and continued, “so, she says that she was also out with him – ON THE SAME DAY – and he literally said the same bullshit to her.”

She poured herself another quarter of a glass. Bethany knew the whole story already, and had heard it at least three times over the past week, but this is what they did. They lamented about the questionable things they did with respect to their romantic lives. And then they would repeat the lament as necessary. And then repeat again.

Bethany carefully interjected, “Fucking man. So what now? Is he ignoring you? Are you ignoring him? You need to tell him to fuck off. He is not good for your brain. Fucking goblin.”

Annie sighed and finished the wine in her glass. “I don’t know. I waver on him like fifteen times a day. I’m some sort of masochist I think.”

“Fair point. He’s confusing. Also, kind of dickish that he’s reusing lines. Although, I bet all guys do that. But, yeah, its odd that he used it on the same day. Fucker.”

“I agree. So I took the liberty of making him an account on Grindr.”

1 thought on “On Love and Wine

  1. bballingshotcallingog

    I really enjoyed that short litte snippet of women discussing another woman. Her overall look and whatever shortcomings she has. I love to look inside the hidden world of females. That daylight-dappled, gorgeous world of caviar dreams and champagne wishes. Where women become centaurs, and men try to ride them. Hahaha!

    Sorry, it’s the comedian in me that makes me say these things. I really did love yer little story tho babe. It was outstanding.

    Thanks for sharing it.

    Take care doll.




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