I awoke to the hideous squeal of some moron pulling into a parking spot out front of my brother’s row house in Georgetown. I pulled back the blinds and saw him trying to maneuver a new Porsche into a spot that a tricycle couldn’t have fit in. Evidently this little zit faced bastards had just gotten his hands on his trust fund and gone out and bought the first really stupid item he could find and decided to ruin my sleep. He would pay.

Dressed only in my bikini briefs and Burmese jungle boots I flew out the front door with my brother’s two French bulldogs following me. “You fucking little bastard. Have you no decency? Hard drinking people are trying to sleep around here.”

He looked scared and well he should have. “It’s one-thirty in the afternoon. I hit my brakes because I didn’t want to hit a squirrel. That’s what made my tires squeal.”

I looked up at the sun and it did seem rather high in the sky to still be morning but then stranger things had happened. “Squirrels are not native to this area. You may have seen a giant sewer rat or some form of weasel but no decent squirrel would run out in front of a gaudy car like that.”

The kid was shaking now and I was sure he’d learned some sort of lesson, though I couldn’t tell you exactly what it was. “Go about your business just keep that loud car off this street.”

He quickly gave me the finger and peeled out. Luckily I was quick enough to kick his rear driver’s side quarter panel with my Burmese jungle boots and left a nice dent in it.

I gathered up the dogs and went back inside. The clock on the wall read 1:15. By god that little bastard had been right. I had slept the better part of a day away. On the coffee table in front of the couch I had slept on were the contents of my pockets from the night before. And then it all started to come back to me…well, some of it. I remembered the redheaded bartender with the big breasts and the star tattoo on her neck but other than that it was very fuzzy.



I filtered through the things from my pockets on the coffee table: cash, matches, condoms, chewing gum, license, credit card…I was missing my ATM card and I had just deposited a significant amount of cashed I received from a piece I had written for a porn magazine. I had to find that card before some degenerate paint sniffer found it and bought up the tri-state are supply of gold spray paint.

I yelled for my brother. “Get down here we have an emergency!”

My brother came running down the stairs. “What is it?”

I tried to pull on my jeans and nearly fell over the coffee table. “My debit card is gone. I fear someone stole it.”

My brother was used to my outbursts. “You probably just left it at the bar last night.”

I buckled my pants and put my boots back on. “Come on we don’t have any time to waste. I fear the worst.”

“Why what happened after I left last night?”

“I have no idea.”

* * *



Terrible scenarios raced through my head as we walked to the bar we had been at the previous night. What had I done in the two hours after my brother had left to go home? I’d been known to make a huge ass out of myself and had been banned from some of the best establishments in the United States.

The redheaded bartender that had been there the night before was working again. When she saw me her face lit up. So far so good. I leaned over the bar. She kissed me on the cheek. “What’s up?”

She greeted me as if I were a long lost friend. Had she dropped a mickey in my drink and taken advantage of me? I hoped so.
“Oh my god I have never seen anyone drink that much before. You had 21 beers on your tab when you closed it out. Then you had about 3 or 4 more. I also comped you about four beers and you had one downstairs. You drank 30 beers. That is so cool.”

Most women would be repulsed by such a spectacle but this girl was special. “It’s nothing to be proud of.”

My brother pulled up to the bar. “He only drinks every six months or so. In fact he didn’t drink for over a year until recently.”

She leaned over and her abundant cleavage toppled onto the bar and rested there like two bean bag chairs. “I know he told me last night.” She winked at me.

It was then that I had a flashback of sitting with her on the kitchen steps out back. I vaguely remembered her large breasts being exposed. Had she told me she had done some video taping of us? That seemed familiar. Dear god what I had I gotten myself into?

She leaned closer and handed me my credit card. I saw the star tattoo on her neck and remembered kissing it. “You left this last night.” She handed me my credit card. “So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Tonight? Oh, yeah, uh, what did we decide on? Nothing involving cameras I hope.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just camera shy.”

She smiled and I remembered that mouth and…