Wingman Blues

Wingman Blues
(c) 2015 By Randy D Pearson

As read at Fiction 440 on 4/28/2015 – the words to use were stiletto, lust, and taxidermy


“C’mon,” said Victor. “Ya gotta come with me! I can’t go without my wingman!”

Octavio sighed. For one thing, Victor never needed a wingman. He’d score regardless. But the bigger issue for Octavio was his own psyche. It’d only been three weeks since Cassie left him. He had no interest in standing around with a bunch of drunk people, pretending to be okay.

However, the gloomy expression on Victor’s face proved difficult to decline. He even pouted, for God’s sake! “Fine,” Octavio said with a forced smile, “but I won’t enjoy it.”

“Sure ya will,” Victor said with a slap to Octavio’s back.

It took Victor, literally, 20 seconds to spot a hottie and bolt, leaving Octavio to stand alone in the crowd, his misery growing. Surrounded by college students who were dressed to hook up with one another, he felt more isolated than ever.

Eh, screw it, he thought. Not only would he not play the mating game, he would go in completely the opposite direction.

He started by ordering an appletini, figuring that holding a neon green drink would deter the women.

However, one sip later and a vivacious brunette sauntered over. She said, “Curious choice.”

Shit, he breathed. Okay, plan B. “This? Oh, it’s the only thing that won’t irritate my bowels. I have this pulsating polyp see, and…” Even before he could finish the sentence, she crinkled her nose and bolted.

Five minutes later, a lady in a low-cut red dress strolled up. When she asked him his profession, he replied, “Taxidermy. I like to take dead animals and put them in unique situations. Just yesterday, I did a scene from Gone with the Wind using a beaver as Scarlett. I have pics on my phone, if…” And she was history.

The next one, seeing the look on his face, asked, “Are you lost, little boy?”

Displaying his cheesiest grin, he replied, “Lust? Why yes, I am horny!” She groaned and fled.

He found he enjoyed messing with these vapid young women. Also, the appletini was unexpectedly enjoyable.

“What do you do for fun?” asked a pretty blonde wearing a Michigan State sweatshirt and baggy jeans. Her lack of slutty attire intrigued him.

He smirked and replied, “I watch a ton of cartoons. Danger Mouse is my favorite.”

Grinning, she replied, “Really? I didn’t think anyone knew about that old-school British cartoon. Who’s your favorite character? Mine is Stiletto.”

After spending an hour talking classic cartoons with her, Octavio realized for the first time in nearly a month that he wore a genuine smile. “Hey, can I buy you an appletini? These things are surprisingly good.”