Small Town Shit

It was the town I grew up in, small town called Comfort. Comfort.  What a load of shit. There’s nothing here for me anymore.  Purposefully forgotten friends, family moved and the only reason I’m back in this piece of shit, is to take care of an old speeding ticket.  My plan was to show up, pay the outstanding bill and scurry back to the snug pocket of Austin, Texas.

Instead, as soon as I gave the unhappy women behind the desk my name, she smirked and asked me to sit down for a moment.  Being the idiot that I am, I did.

Thirty seconds later two fat pigs opened the double doors and threw me on the ground.  My chin smashed the concrete floor.  Not entirely necessary I thought.  My redneck ways have taken a hiatus since I moved.  The day I left, I took a piss on the town football stars face while he was passed out drunk. I can’t even count how many girls I knew that woke up confused next to his repulsive ass.  A fitting goodbye.

I was the moron who thought I could just pay off an outstanding ticket turned warrant.  In Austin, they would have just happily taken the money.  In Comfort, because the cops spend their days jerking off in their cars to high school girls, this was the most action they were gonna get for a while.  Face still smashed on the floor, I ran my tongue across my front teeth and felt a piece crack off.  I spit it from my mouth.

“My fucking tooth you pieces of shit.  I’m a small woman, what the fuck are you thinking?”

“Ma’am don’t resist.  We are just doing our jobs.”

I recognized that voice.  I looked up at the one with his knee against my neck.  Seth Miller.

I guess having to live with the fact that I sucked your tiny dick when I wasn’t even close to legal, ain’t gonna get me outta this one is it Seth?”

He smirked and picked me up off the ground. “Ha, not unless your ready to get suckin’ again Mel.”

Blood was dripping off my chin.  Seth and I were childhood friends.  He was always in love with me.  I completely ignored him after the drunken felacio.  I guess he’s still pissed.

They took me to the back of their shitty jail where a real dike of a woman stripped me naked and checked my ass for drugs.

“You got anything good in there sweetheart?” Her voice was deep and rapey.

“Just my sweet pussy, which is obviously good enough for you Rambo.”

She kicked me from behind and my forehead cracked on the wall.  Stars. A familiar feeling. My sharp tongue has always gotten me into trouble.

I gathered what memories I could.  Just earlier I fed my dog, I swept my hallway.  I picked up an organic green juice for my morning drive.  I listened to Neil Young’s Harvest Moon.  I stopped for gas and yelled at some construction workers for gawking…I felt warmth dripping down my face and when it hit my lip I tasted the blood.  A seemingly normal start to my day and now this pile of shit.

“Wheres my fucking phone call dike?”

“Bend over for me one more time sugar and you’ll get your phone call.”

I’ve played this game before…many times.  I slowly stood up, wiped my bloody hair out of my face, smiled, spread my legs and touched the floor.

She smacked my ass. “I‘m actually married….to a beast of a man honey and I looove dick.”

I laughed wiping the blood on my already soaked t-shirt. “Touche!”

Just because I live in the city doesn’t mean that my small town discriminations don’t blow up in my face at times.  That’s healthy, I thought.  She handed me the phone and I dialed my work.

“Is Jamie around?  Yea I need to talk to her…Hey Jamie, I‘m not going to make the meeting.  I‘m actually in jail in my piece of shit hometown.  Yea know.  I came to pay a ticket and it’s a warrant.  Hey, have we figured out if our insurance plan is going to cover dental?  I got a situation going on over here.  Some fat fucking pigs chipped my tooth.  Yea, thats right you, you fat fucking pig I‘m talking about you.  Okay girly yea I‘ll let you know. See you soon.”

I sat in jail for the weekend.  Seth came for a visit.

I‘m sorry Mel I didn’t realize it was you.”

“It’s cool Seth, sorry for ignoring you after that whole dick sucking situation.”

“It’s okay I was a pathetic boy.  I understand why you did.”

“Well I can see your not pathetic anymore tackling a tiny woman over a speeding ticket and all.” I  smiled sarcastically as wide as I could.

“You still look pretty with a chipped tooth.”

“Thank you Seth.  Stop being such a dick though man, you used to be a sweet kid.”

He looked at the ground. “Yea I know I get it.  I’ve learned my lesson…And you know I can help with the dental expenses if you—“

I interrupted, “Shut the fuck upI know damn well what your salary looks like.  I‘ll take care of it.”

He smiled. “Hows your mom?”

“Oh you know still pathetically chasing after married men, the usual. Your dad?”

“Still dying of liver failure.  The usual.”

I had almost forgot that I was still in jail.  “Hey when the fuck am I getting out of here?”

“Oh, actually last night you were free to go.  I just wanted to make sure and see you before you disappeared for another 10 years.”

“You savage.  Somethings never change.”

“Hey if it takes throwing you in jail to see your beautiful face and talk to you, you know I‘ll take it.  That hasn’t changed.”  He handed me my chipped tooth.

I went back to work that week with a broken tooth and a busted head and chin.

Seth died in a drunk driving accident about a month later.

I didn’t go to the funeral.

No Time for Sexism

I was late for work and traffic was terrible.  It was backed up only a few blocks from my house which is a bit abnormal for my neighborhood.  I’ve learned to calm myself during these moments because they come so often in this growing city and honestly, what the fuck else am I going to do? Be pissed off everyday of my life?

I came up on a car that was stalled in the road and some skinny man in his late fifties was simultaneously trying to push his car and jump back in and steer.  He was the reason for the traffic I’d been sitting in for 10 minutes.  I couldn’t believe  not a single person had offered help in this amount of time.

The logic and humanity in me kicked in and I turned on my hazards and jumped out of my car to help.  Cars began honking at me, because now, there were two cars stopped on the road.  Assholes.  People’s logic never ceases to piss me off.  Solution: get the fucking stalled car out of the way so the problem no longer exists.  Simple, right?

As soon as I got out the man looked at all 120 pounds of me and laughed an annoyed laugh. Casually I responded, “You don’t seem to be in a position to be sexist at this point now do you bud?”

He grumbled, “Lady, I got this, besides there’s no way you can push this big ole car.  It’s a lot tougher than one a yer yoga classes.”

I don’t do yoga.  However, I did grow up in a small town full of ignorant people and I’m also a woman which means being underestimated comes with the vagina.  “Well, would you rather me steer?  Your methods are obviously proving inadequate.”

“Fine!  Just steer the car and try not to let your tits fuck this up!” This piece of shit I thought.

He began to push his car, correction, he began trying to push his car.  I turned the wheel, jumped out and started pushing with him.  Together we were obviously making more progress.  “I think we almost got it!”  I encouraged.

He snickered and shook his head.  “Settle down, I can’t believe this is my life right now, relying on a little girl to help me.”

At that moment, I realized something.  I don’t need to be helping this guy.  With no one steering the wheel and the car at the top of this small hill, I let go and began walking back to my car.

His car rolled backwards down the hill, hopped the curb and hit a fence, crushing the back of his car.  I smiled, “Well fuck you too asshole.” I got back in my car, honked my horn, and drove away while flicking him the middle finger. I could see him yelling at the top of the hill.  At least his car was on the curb and not the road so traffic could move.

About a week later he moved into the vacant house right next door to mine.  Small town of a million I suppose.

Brave Woman and Pakistani Store Owner…

I was walking to the store when he slammed on his breaks at the sight of me and rolled down the window.  He whistled and made kissing noises and I screamed “Fuck off!”

If your a woman you know this is just an average Monday morning. I’ve heard the argument of “Why aren’t you just flattered, there are so many ugly women out there.”  To you, I say fuck you man, yes of course you are a man.  It’s rough growing up as a girl, your sexuality constantly being thrown in your lap when trying to go about doing average things.


I remember running into the corner store to get my mom a Diet Coke when I was 13 and I was groped by a man in his 40’s while reaching into the cooler.  I ran out of the store and told my mom.  She popped the trunk and grabbed a tire iron out with the quickness.

“Honey, what does he look like?”

“He has a cowboy hat, he’s the only one in there.” I was terrified.

My mother, 110 lbs ran into the store and took the tire iron to his knees. She skipped out and threw her hair back behind her neck.  When she got in the car she threw the tire iron in my lap and sped out. “Looks like we’re gonna have to get a diet coke somewhere else.”  We both looked down in my hands and found that I had, in fact, stolen the Diet Coke  in the midst of things. We both laughed hysterically.

Thats the day I realized that this was no above average encounter for a woman.  My mother was barely phased at the fact that she may have just broken a man’s legs.  Although this may be an average encounter I decided, like mother, that I didn’t need to have an average reaction.


As soon as I said “Fuck off” the car screeched into the corner store that I was walking into. “Get over here you fucking cunt,” the man jumped out of the truck.  I carry a gun on me at all times, one because I’m from Texas and I can,  the other because I have to deal with assholes like this on a daily basis and I want to be prepared to defend myself.  The gun I had on this particular day was unlicensed and virtually impossible to track back to my name thanks to my cousin Eddie.

The Pakistani man, my friend, that owns the corner store saw everything.  I slipped an average size pale ale into my hand when the guy rushed in and grabbed me by the back of the head.  I had no time to grab my gun.  Right as I was about to swing the beer , Abdul shot the man in the arm.

“Abdul, thank you.”

“My friend.  Are you okay?”

The man was rocking and moaning and holding his arm.  I took the bottle to the man’s head and knocked him unconscious. “Yea I am good, you have a rag?”

Abdul threw me a rag and I wiped down my gun and placed it in the man’s right hand and shot at the ceiling.  In the other hand I placed a candy bar.

In the news, the title read “Brave Woman and Pakistani Store Owner Fight Back Against Vicious Thief.”

Pakistani man hero? Definitely a win in this country. Woman hero? Win. Vicious thief. You lose fucker.

My mother would’ve been proud.

Lover Fuck Off

Oh I loved you from the first day we met. So well read, cynical, my type.  I decided to take you up on a date once we were both eventually single.

We went to my neighborhood bar.  It’s a fancy place, dark, nice cocktails, beautiful staff.  You looked at me as though you wanted to eat me alive.  I’d never seen that from you so I was a bit put off.

Being my neighborhood bar, I often sat there for hours and wrote and eventually became well acquainted with the bartenders and servers.  One of them came over to say hello and check if we needed anything.  You shifted your body right next to mine and put your arm around me as soon as he came over.  You might as well just pulled down your pants and started pissing all over me.

“Hey Mel, how y’all doing over here?”

You interjected scowling, “I’m with her.”

The bartender laughed, “I see that…Ok well let me know if you need anything.”

I said sorry with my eyes and immediately threw your arm off of me.

“What the fuck was that?”


“Why are you acting like an asshole right now? He came over to say hi and you treated my friend like shit for no reason other than your own insecure ideas of what this is.” I was confused by your actions being that I’d known you for years and never seen you behave this way.

“What do you mean?”

“Give me a fucking break you know what I mean.  You have completely embarrassed me and I want to go home, I can walk.”

“I can drive you.”


When we got to my house you sat at your wheel like an idiot. “Can I come in?”

“Fuck no, what makes you think I want you to come in after the way you acted tonight?  I’ll see you at work.”

Sex Worker

I’ve been out of a job for 3 months.  I got fired from a juice bar for stealing a vegan energy bar.  They caught me on camera.  My parents cut me off 3 months ago on my 18th birthday, which is why I got the job in the first place.  It lasted 3 days.  I searched for jobs through Craigslist.  I’ve always wanted to be a personal assistant.  Seems easy enough, picking up someones clothes from the cleaners.  I like easy, I do well with easy.  Most times that is…

I saw an ad stating “Full Time Personal Assistant Needed.”  The description was non-specific. “Retired botanist, looking for someone to help with basic chores and duties, watering my rose garden and such.”  It sounded perfect.  I sent over my resume and he immediately replied for an interview.

His house was huge, tucked into one of the most expensive parts of Austin, Tarrytown.  No rose garden, maybe it’s in the back I thought.  I pulled up in my 1990 Acura Legend, got out and rang the bell.

He was in his 70’s, in a robe, half opened with his chest hair hanging out.  I’ve been told I’m naive by many close friends which leads me to believe this is the reason I walked right in the door.  I don’t know I just figured, “hey, he’s fucking rich, he can wear a goddamn robe at 3 in the afternoon if he wants.”  Thats what I would do if I was filthy rich. Made sense to me.

I sat down on his plastic covered couch and he sat across from me on his plastic covered ottoman and crossed his legs, allowing his balls to hit the plastic in my perfect view.  I shifted a bit in my seat.

“So why are you interested in being my personal assistant?”

My eyes twitched away from the sight of his balls, “I’ve always wanted to try it out, I feel like I’m good at pleasing people.  No project is too big or hard for me to handle.”

He nodded his head and smiled. “How much do you charge an hour?”

“Hmm, I don’t know I guess $18?  Whatever you think?”

“Well that depends.  Do you believe $18 an hour is what you’re worth?”

“Yea I think that sounds fare.”

He stood up and untied his robe, letting his semi hard old cock swing slightly.  I screamed and stood up.  He began walking towards me, arms open wide and I grabbed the vase from the table and threw it at his head.  It cracked him straight at the temple and his bones fell to the ground.  He moaned holding his bloody head and I just stood there unsure of what to do.

“Fuck!  What the fuck?” I yelled down at him, he wasn’t moving.

I began running towards the door when I saw his wallet from the corner of my eye on the top of his shelf.  “Fuck it.”  I reached in, grabbed the wad of hundreds and took off in my car.

$600 was definitely worth my time.