Abby Fitzgerald didn’t expect a surprise birthday party when she got home today. She didn’t expect bold colored daisies or pretty wrapped gifts. But most of all she didn’t expect to find her live-in boyfriend Burt, engaged in a spooge-a-paloosa fest with a chick dressed as a mime. Her crazy old grandmother warned her she would be cursed on her twenty-fifth birthday, but who would have believed it?
Burt slapped his body up against the mime from behind in a vigorous frenzy on the sleigh styled queen-sized bed. The woman’s hands and painted white face pressed up against an invisible window with his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her vertical.
Seeing Abby, the mime’s lips parted into an “O” breaking the sex-me-up red heart painted across them. She covered her mouth with her gloved hands.
Abby stared in horror at Burt with his mouth open and eyes closed, savoring the sheer ecstasy of screwing the mime. Her heart shattered shooting pulmonary shrapnel up her throat. He never looked like that when they were together.
“You’re freaking cheating on me?”
Burt’s eyes popped open, before he leaped from the bed. “Son of a . . .”
Abby dashed into the hallway bathroom, and rummaged in the crowded cabinet under the sink. “Where’s the damn Scrubbing Bubbles? Or better yet, the Borax?” She tossed a mildewed loofa and a half used bottle of honeysuckle hand lotion over her shoulder. They landed not far from Burt’s bare feet.
“Abby, I’m sorry. I was going to wait until after your birthday to tell you.” He placed his hands on both sides of the bathroom door trim and leaned into the room. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m trying to find something to scour the sick image of you and your mime girlfriend from my eyes. Better yet, I’ll get the melon ball scooper.” Unable to contain herself, she whipped a can of lemon scented shaving cream at his head.
He ducked but the foaming missile bounced off his hair-sprayed-until-bullet-proof hair. His nostrils flared like an enraged bull. Too bad that was all he had in common with the animal. “You’re acting irrational. Stop it.”
True. Right now she couldn’t even think straight. “Get away from me.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said under his breath.
She ignored his statement and shoved his skinny five-foot-four-inch unclothed body aside and marched back into the bedroom.
The mime perched on the edge of the bed with a sheet wrapped around her naked body. She held up both hands in a stop gesture and waved them back and forth.
“Abby. Please settle down.” Burt trailed behind her.
“Settle down? Do you know why I came home early?”
“No.” He glanced at his watch then looked absolutely baffled.
“Because I got fired today, Burt.”
He tilted his head to the side and wrinkled his rather large forehead. “Oh. Well, how were you planning to help me pay the rent then?”
She wished she had a gun to shoot the stupid out of him.