More Dear Winifred

Duh!

 

     Winifred Downy awoke with yet-another blinding headache.  She knew she should blame herself for staying at that tavern, now what was the name?  Ah, ah, aw s**t, what did it matter?  It may as well have been called Get Your Cheap-A*s Hooch Here.  She knew there was no one else to blame but herself, but anyone who's read this novel so far, knows that she never considers anything she does as a mistake.  It must have been the fricking tavern serving sub-standard alcohol.  She should have known by the hapless dregs stumbling away at two in the morning, she thought, conveniently forgetting that she was one of those hapless dregs.

 

     "S**t!" she screamed aloud on her first attempt to rise from her coffin--err--bed.  She sure felt like she was dead, and half wished she was at that moment.

 

 

     She somehow made it into the shower and turned the water up as hot as she could stand it and slumped against the wall and closed her eyes against the piercing, blinding rays of light assaulting her brain.

 

     Ah, the sweet relief! she thought.  I'll just close my eyes for a while and res--... she was suddenly jolted awake by the stream of ice cold water raining down on her tortured brain.  She yelped in shock and quickly bent down to turn off the water.  She must have fallen asleep and the hot water ran out.  She made a vow to herself to buy a huge hot water tank that would hold enough hot water so she could read War and Peace in the shower; well, at least the hot water would last about that long, anyway.  She toweled herself dry and reached for her clothes.  She realized she hadn't even used soap and she needed fresh clothes but that would require walking all the way back into her bedroom, and she dreaded the thought of any wasted motion right now, so she pulled on her old clothing, popped a breath mint from her pocket into her mouth and called it good.

 

 

     She pulled her car into the mini market parking lot and looked at the distance she had to cover to the front door and groaned.  All she wanted to do was go back home and pull the covers over her head and sleep for a week, but she had to go to work.  The very thought of work sent fresh waves of pain and nausea through her head.  This sucked, but she needed some coffee and she doubted she could have stood for making some herself.  She stumbled in through the door and the overhead neon lighting attacked her head.

 

     S**t, will someone turn off that light? she thought to herself, and even thinking hurt her brain.  The balding older gentleman behind the counter said hi to her, but she didn't reply.  All she could think about was about three gallons of scalding hot coffee; especially after her ice bath.  She swore, even though she didn't have any, she could feel her testicles shrinking.  She made it over to the coffee somehow and poured herself a gigantic cup.  She used to make fun of the size of humongous, but not any more.  She fully understood the necessity.  She took the coffee up to the counter to pay and was greeted by Baldy,

 

     "Hello there, did you find everything you needed okay?"

 

     Unless your store sells anti-dick pills, yeah; what a throbbing tool this guy is!  She managed a grunt, which could have meant yes, or, "Screw you, you massive groin appendage!" and threw a five on the counter like a weapon.  He gave her the change and said a goodbye.  She grunted again and was turning to stumble back to her car, when she caught sight of the man in line behind her.  Suddenly her hangover was forgotten; he was gorgeous!  He said a goodbye and it was like a heavenly choir had sung directly to her face.  Again she was speechless, and suddenly wished she had brushed, used soap in her shower, and changed clothes.  Even though the tavern she'd gone to last night was technically a non-smoking tavern, no one obeyed that fact, and cigarette smoke wafted from her person like an invisible shield.   Even though she was married, she wouldn't let that small fact stop her.

 

     "Hello!" she gushed.

 

     "Oh, hello," he answered, even while backing away from her.

 

     Man, was he ever hot!  "I'd just like to pay for my gas, pump three," he said to Baldy.

 

     She desperately tried to think of something to say.  Ordinarily she wouldn't have trouble, but suddenly she couldn't think of anything.

 

     Must be the hangover! she thought.  "Ah, I love the coffee they serve here!"

 

     He looked at her like she was an annoying child to be tolerated and replied, "Yeah they do," then to Baldy he said, "Thanks," as he was handed his change, then he said to her, "Well, have a nice day," and just like that his cute a*s followed the rest of him out the door and walked to his car, sat down, and the car disappeared.  She felt the cold despair of failure wash over her much like the ice shower she'd recently endured.  Then she felt the nails of her hangover suddenly plunge into her brain with a vengeance once more.

 

     Son of a b***h!  Typical man, stuck up a*****e!  she thought.  Meanwhile, Baldy, who'd heard their exchange, piped up with, "Hey, you have a great day, huh?"

 

     She looked with scorn at the drooling Neanderthal and replied sharply, "Oh shut up!" and stumbled towards the door, leaving the shocked guy staring at her retreating back.

 

 

     Oh s**t; I dread going in to work today, especially now that my opinion of men has been proved correct by that slope-headed piece of eye candy!  She burned rubber out of the parking lot in a fit of rage; come to think of it, that was her normal state!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Marie]

I could almost feel sorry for Winifred. How could the most unloveable person in the world expect to find it?

[Michael Stevens]

I don't think she thinks of herself as unlovable; it's just that everyone else sucks!