Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez) (25 page)

That was it. She had
had
it. Gina pulled the car onto the median strip and slammed on the brakes. In a fit of frustration and rage, she got out of the car and stomped across the road.

“Give me my dog!” she commanded in a more affirmative tone than she had probably ever used in her life.

“What dog? I ain’t got no dog,” one of the kids said as Gomez caught sight of Gina and began to squirm and try to get away.

“Give me my dog now, you little derelict, or I’m calling the police!”

“Hey, Simon,” the one with sunglasses said to the other with a laugh. “Bitch gonna call the cops. Bitch think some cop gonna come and rescue her dog.”

Gina was oblivious to any danger the situation posed and started to approach the two young men further. “I’m going to ask one more time . . .” she said.

“You gonna ask what one more time? If you can suck my big hard cock?” the stockier boy holding Gomez said to Gina. “Yeah, I think the bitch wants to suck my cock,” he said again, and jerked Gina by the arm and pulled her closer to him. He held her firmly while Gomez continued to squirm. Gina was too angry and just plain fed up to be scared. With more strength than she knew she had, Gina pulled back her free arm and then, as hard as she could, bashed the young man underneath his chin with the palm of her hand, just like they had taught her in self-defense class. As his head flung back, he freed Gina’s arm. She then braced herself by grabbing his shoulder with both hands, screamed at the top of her lungs “Hiiijahhhh” and kneed him in the groin with all her might—and after seeing Griffin on the cover of a porn video and having her dog stolen, boy, did she have some might. The delinquent let out a screech so high, he could have been the only hoodlum in the Vienna Boys Choir. He dropped Gomez and toppled over in pain. Upon seeing this, the other guy put his hands up and said, “I don’t want no trouble, lady. He’s the one that took your dog.”

Gina ignored him and swiftly picked up Gomez and ran back to the car. She got inside and locked the door. Before she drove off, she turned her head and saw that the stockier kid had gotten on his feet and was shouting something at her. She wasn’t about to stick around and find out what it was.

When she reached a safer part of town, she pulled over to catch her breath and take in the situation. She thought about Griffin on the cover of a multitude of porno videos, how David did, in fact, manage porn stars, and how she was almost raped and probably murdered. In some warped way the whole thing struck her as a wee bit comical. Maybe it was adrenaline or the shock to her system, but as she reviewed the evening, she began laughing. She looked at Gomez and said with a giggle, “I banged a porno actor.” The giggle turned into a chuckle. “No, Gomez, he didn’t make
a
porno movie. He’s made
tons and tons
of porno movies.” By this time she had erupted into hysterical laughter. She swung her head back and howled, “No, Gomez, I don’t bang porno
actors
. I only bang porno
stars
. A girl’s got to have standards.”

When she calmed down, she once again pulled the car back onto the road and headed home.

“There’s a few things I don’t understand, Gomez. He’s grossly overweight and not very attractive. How did he become such a big-time star of X-rated movies? And why the Big G? I’ve seen his G, and it’s hardly big.”

Salon Talk

“N
othing crazy today, Dennis. I just want you to blow-dry it out and make it look nice,” Gina said to Dennis as she sat down in his chair. It had been a couple of weeks since she beat up the teenage boy to get Gomez back. She was dying to tell someone the whole sordid story but wouldn’t dream of it. If she did, she would have to admit to the whole Griffin thing—and how would she explain following David to the porn shop?

“Not even a little trim?”

“No. The big reunion is tonight, and I don’t want to risk any mishaps.”

“Mishaps? Gina, I don’t do mishaps.”

“Shall I remind you of the yellow hair I ran around with for a week not too long ago?”

“Oh, that. Well, yellow’s a good color for you. You should have thanked me.”

“Sorry. Thanks for making me look like a military housewife whose husband probably cheats on her.”

“What time is Linda coming in? Does she still want me to do her hair and makeup?”

“She should be here any minute now.”

“Just you and Linda going to the party tonight?”

“No, Linda is taking her new girlfriend, Rosa something-or-other, and Peter is going with me.”

“When did Linda get a girlfriend?”

“She met her at the bank about a month ago, and they’ve been inseparable ever since.”

“Do you like her?”

“She’s fine, I guess.”

“So, in other words, she’s a bitch, and you hate her.”

“Dennis! I do not. But must they do everything together? I don’t think I’ve seen Linda independent of Rosa since they met.”

“Someone’s jealous,” Dennis said in a catty tone.

“I’m not jealous. I’m happy Linda has someone. It just aggravates me that when people get involved in a relationship, they let it suck up their life.”

“But it’s nice she found someone. It’s so hard, especially for us gay folks. We have such a smaller percentage of the population to choose from.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Gina joked. “It isn’t any picnic for us straight girls either.”

“Well, at least you can get married, adopt kids, join the military. . . .”

“Join the military? Since when did you want to join the military? I don’t think I can picture you in fatigues, running around Kosovo.”

“That’s for sure. Do they have a Nordstrom in Kosovo? Because if not . . .”

“I don’t think so, Dennis. You might have to actually wear synthetic fabrics.”

“Heavens no!” Dennis replied, putting his hands over his face in mock horror.

Gina laughed. “Let’s just agree that it’s tough out there for both of us. What do you say if we’re still alone in ten years we buy a house and grow old together? Just like Will and Grace.”

“Only if I get to be Grace,” Dennis joked. “Although I’d want bigger boobs than she has.”

“God, even gay men are obsessed with big breasts. Maybe I should get that boob job after all,” Gina sighed.

“Gina, I’m sure you’ll find a great guy with your real boobs, and when you do—”

“When! More like
if.”

“You and me both.”

“What? Your love life is in the toilet as well?”

“Gina, I don’t even try anymore. Although I did meet this guy the other night, but why would anything work out with him? Nothing ever does.”

“Where’d you meet him?”

“JR’s. He just walked up to me and introduced himself.”

“So what happened?”

“We chatted for a little while and . . . well . . . eventually, I agreed to accompany him home.”

“Slut,” Gina said, laughing. “So, have you heard from him since?”

“Actually, he called the other day. We’re supposed to go out next weekend.”

“Well, good for you. I didn’t think you went out that much anymore.”

“I don’t. It’s just not worth it. I’m over the whole scene, for now anyway. The clubs don’t even start hopping until midnight. First, I have to find a guy who doesn’t make me want to puke. Then I have to strike up a conversation with him and pretend I give a shit about where he’s from, what he does, his hobbies.... By the time we get back to my place and have to chat for a while again, it’s almost morning when the sex finally gets started, and then I’m too tired to enjoy it.”

“I hear you,” Gina said, agreeing with Dennis. “And then you have the losers who want to stay the night.”

“I know. I’m like ‘Hello! You were okay to fuck, but get the hell out of my bed now that it’s over.’ ”

“Or they want to go to breakfast the next morning,” Gina added. “Like I want to eat breakfast with some stranger I met at a bar. It’s a bunch of losers out there, Dennis. I’ve pretty much given up myself.”

“Oh, please. You’ll find someone.”

“I don’t know. No one interests me, and if by some remote chance I find someone who does, he isn’t interested in me. It’s not like I’m asking much. All I want is a fairly interesting, reasonably attractive guy. That’s it. That’s all I ask . . . well, I guess I’d also prefer he have a decent job and be taller than me and not smoke and be in decent shape and around my age . . . oh, and not have any cats. . . .”

Before Gina could finish her laundry list, the salon receptionist interrupted her. “Ms. Perry, there’s a telephone call for you at the front desk.”

“It’s probably Linda running late,” Gina replied, hopping up from the chair.

She reached for the phone. “This is Gina.”

“Hey. It’s me,” Peter said in a hoarse voice on the other end. “Please don’t hate me, but I’m sick. I’ve got the flu or something. I’m not going to be able to go to the reunion tonight.”

God! You are such a hypochondriac! Who gets the flu in the middle of the summer? “Oh, no, Peter. Please say you’re joking.”

“I’m sorry, Gina. You know I’d go if I could.”

Gina stood there in silence for a minute before responding. “All right,” she said with resignation. “If you’re sick, you’re sick.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Okay, Peter. Feel better,” Gina replied, and hung up the phone. She knew better than to try to convince Peter to go out when he wasn’t feeling well. With the wind completely out of her sails, she stumbled back to Dennis’ chair.

“What’s the matter?” Dennis asked. “Someone’s not a happy camper.”

“That was Peter. He’s sick, so I get to go to my reunion alone—like a big, fat loser.”

“Alone?”

“Yep. Damn! There must be someone to go with me,” Gina said, sitting back down in the chair and catching Dennis’ reflection in the mirror. He was rather attractive with his blond hair and blue eyes and had a harder body than Peter’s.

“Hey, Dennis? How about doing one of your best clients a favor?”

Ten Years Later

“T
his is weird. I actually feel a little nervous,” Gina said to the gang as they pulled into the Omni Shoreham Hotel in D.C. Gina was in the front seat with Dennis. Linda and Rosa were in the back with their knees practically in their faces. They hardly had room to move in the backseat of Dennis’ car, but they all agreed that his convertible Mustang was the best choice for transportation to the reunion. Gina and Linda both drove Honda Civics. Although not a bad vehicle, a Japanese economy car didn’t exactly scream success.

“My stomach has a bit of a knot in it too,” Linda replied, beginning to wonder if bringing her girlfriend to the reunion was such a great idea. When she made the decision, she was in one of her Melissa Etheridge moods with that I-don’t-care-what-they-think! attitude. Now, when it was time to put up or shut up, she was having some regrets about not just coming alone and dodging boyfriend questions throughout the night.

Dennis handed the keys to the valet, and he and the girls got out of the car.

“You ready?” Gina smiled and turned to Linda. Linda just returned the smile, and they walked into the lobby. The official start time was about forty-five minutes earlier, but they didn’t dare risk arriving early. How awful it might be to arrive before most of the guests got there. They might have ended up in the ballroom with two other early birds whose names they barely knew, and have to make forced conversation.

The girls waited while Dennis looked on the daily events schedule to see what ballroom the reunion was in. He asked a bellman where the Capitol Room was and led his three female companions to the lower level of the hotel. As they strode past the rest rooms, Gina suggested one last check to make sure everything looked perfect. Rosa declined and waited outside the powder room with Dennis. At Gina’s suggestion, Dennis was wearing a standard charcoal-gray suit he usually reserved for funerals and Catholic weddings. He had a closet full of stylish double-breasted and three-button suits, not to mention a plethora of cashmere sport coats and linen slacks, but Gina didn’t want him looking too stylish. She was trying to reduce the gay factor as much as possible.

In the bathroom, Gina lightly brushed her hair with her fingers while Linda just stood and watched her. Gina was pleased with her overall look. Dennis had done a great job with her hair and even applied her makeup for her. She knew all the women would be in black, especially the ones who’d ballooned since high school, so she chose a simple red dress she picked up at Neiman Marcus in Chevy Chase—a store she hadn’t been into in years. She couldn’t afford the prices there. But she and Linda didn’t have any luck the day they went shopping at Pentagon City, so Gina decided to go even more upscale. Besides, it was for something special.

She spotted the dress almost as soon as she walked in the store. The dress itself was not overly formal, but the black belt with sequins on just the buckle gave it a flair of elegance and style. She saw the price when she first pulled it off the rack but chose to ignore it and try it on anyway. When she went in the dressing room and slipped it on, one look in the mirror and she knew she had to have it. It fit her perfectly and fell just above her knees, allowing her to show a little leg without looking like an Ally McBeal wanna be. The red was a great contrast to her blond hair and gave her face a bit of a rosy shade. A few minutes later she opened up a Neiman Marcus account and charged the nine-hundred-dollar dress.

Looking in the mirror in the hotel rest room, Gina knew it was worth every penny, even if she was going to have to live in the dark and eat cat food for a few months to pay for it. Besides, she put on extra deodorant and was wearing a slip just in case she decided to pull a Shirley and return the dress the next day. A few years earlier, Shirley got her hands on one of those little machines that click out plastic threads and hold the price tags onto garments. She could easily put the tags back on the dress for Gina. Although it meant Gina would have to swallow her pride and ask for help with something she constantly reprimanded Shirley for doing.

Linda was looking pretty good herself. Gina had convinced Linda to let Dennis do her up as well. A few weeks earlier, Gina persuaded her to buy a snazzy black pantsuit with gold buttons from Bloomingdale’s. The price of Linda’s outfit didn’t compare to Gina’s purchase, but it was still quite a stretch for Linda to spend as much as she had on one outfit.