Thomas M. Watt's Blog, page 34
September 19, 2015
Sunset – Part 1
Coming to kill you.
D’angelo read the text, fumbled his phone back into his pocket, then spun around.
* *
3 HOURS EARLIER
Orange glow of the sun hovered over the horizon. D’angelo had just gotten his head shaved and beard trimmed at the local barber shop. Nothing unusual this day – other than the young girl who’d nearly killed herself crossing the street. She had headphones in and never checked for cars before setting foot on the crosswalk. D’angelo spotted and grabbed her before a BMW plowed her into oblivion. The thanks he’d gotten from those nearby was great, but the fact he didn’t have to wait around to file a witness report was thanks in itself.
D’angelo lived a good life – lots a work, a little play… What more is there? A long day with a few good sales called for a drink at the local pub.
Whiskey and ginger, that was his shit. Lakers game on a Tuesday evening didn’t require much. But that’s when she entered – thick body, round cheeks, and a streak of purple in her jet black hair. Girl’s a freak – just his type.
“Number,” she said.
D’angelo eyed her, then checked over his opposite shoulder. “Who you talking to?”
“Ghost behind you.”
Dangelo smiled and laughed. She didn’t.
“What’s your name?” he said.
“Order me a drink.”
D’angelo scratched his neck, then whistled for the bartender.
“Yes?” said the bartender.
“Get this lady a cocktail.”
“Try again,” she said.
“Margarita,” said D’angelo.
The bartender raised his eyebrows at her.
“Coors Light,” she said.
D’angelo laughed.
“Sunset,” she said.
“What?”
“My name.”
“Your name’s sunset?”
The bartender brought over her drink.
“Yes,” said Sunset. Soon as she took the Coors Light, she swapped it with D’angelo’s whiskey ginger. Sunset sucked down D’angelo’s drink through the skinny red straw ’till nothing but ice remained.
“Who do you think you-“
“Open your ears, I told you already. Phone number,” said Sunset, before holding out her phone.
D’angelo scoffed, then shook his head. “I’m not into bossy women, you know,” he said, then entered his number into her contacts. He gave the phone back to her.
Sunset stood up and started away. D’angelo grabbed her by the elbow.
“Where you going?”
She looked down at the grip he had on her, then slowly lifted her gaze until her purple lasers were aimed at him. “Don’t,” she said.
“Okay, alright.” He let go. “Sorry.”
“Me too,” she said, then started off.
D’angelo swiveled on the bar stool, stood up and spat out his words.”For leaving, or what?”
The clicking of Sunset’s heels ceased. She kept her back to him for a moment, then rotated around slowly. When she faced him again, she wore a red lipstick smile from ear to ear. Sunset strolled back to D’angelo, cupped her hands around his ears, then pushed a wet kiss onto his lips.
“Bad thoughts,” she said, then whirled around and strutted away.To be continued…Thomas M. Watt
September 17, 2015
MASTER Update – 9/17 – Ellie Augsburger
Ellie Augsburger, award winning cover artist, has agreed to design my cover for Master. I’m pumped! She is responsible for the following masterpieces:
We have agreed to give the cover a Gillian Flynn inspired tone – dark background, police sirens, ominous symbols and a strong, powerful title font. It’d be pretty sweet if it comes out looking anything like this:
However, I’m sure anything Ellie does will be an improvement from my original cover for A New Kingdom:
Anyway, recently I posted about how determined I was to establish a greater social media presence. I’m happy to say I’ve stuck with that goal, and am beginning to reap baby benefits. For one thing, my various websites are all the top five links provided when you enter my name in a google search engine (along with a scathing review of A New Kingdom – a sci-fi novel I wrote 6 years ago. Relax, I’m better now).
I knew an app developer, and I remember he advised me that the more webpages you have linking to one particular site, the more traffic will flood to that one site. I truly believe that now – I’ve witnessed it firsthand.
Twitter, btw, is awesome – it gives you the chance to connect with other authors, agents, and publishers. Snag an agent or two, you might just be able to establish one of those mythical social-media-networking things people tell tall-tales about. Another advantage, you can hook up your twitter account with your wordpress blog, that way anything you post on here will automatically have a link provided to your twitter followers. For real though – tweet central is worth checking out.
Goodreads though? That’s another story (pardon the pun). I’ve linked my goodreads blog with my wordpress blog, but every post on there comes out looking like shit. I’m having trouble making friends, because I don’t read half as much fiction as I write. And God knows for every one person who likes to read, there’s four-or-five maniacal writers already fighting to shove their books down his/her throat.
Other than that, I’m happy to know a few people are actually reading my short stories. I’m pleased with the first 3 parts to ‘Donald and Thurma’, but the fourth I had to write twice, and even the second try could use some improvement. The first attempt no longer exists (it will hereby be known as FAIL, and I would burn it in an instant if that didn’t mean torching my laptop).
I’m determined to deliver content that is entertaining through these short stories. I want to be the best writer I can be, so the more honest feedback you can give me in the comment section, the better. This means when you finish a story and are left with a feeling of ‘what the?’, I would be honored to have you write exactly that in the comment box, and for as many times as it takes for me to figure it out.
Keep keepin’ it real homies.
Thomas M. Watt
September 16, 2015
Donald and Thurma – Part 4 – Finale
“I think I can,” he said to himself, chugging along the sidewalk tracks. “I think I can.”
Donald walked with both fists clenched. Amanda and Thurma strolled a short ways ahead, Thurma with her head down.
He wasn’t angry, he was determined – and approaching a girl who was more than likely to reject him was no easy task for Donald.
“Hey,” he called out.
The two girls turned around. Amanda smirked, and crossed her arms. Thurma stilted like a wooden statue.
“Let me guess,” said Amanda. “You found something and were wondering if it belongs to Thurma. Is that your excuse for talking to her? Because that’s not exactly original.”
“No,” said Donald. “I want to talk to her as myself.”
“Why?” said Amanda, narrowing her eyes. “Been acting like somebody else?”
Donald stared straight at Thurma. “Have you?”
Silence.
“Erm, I’ll leave you two alone,” said Amanda, before patting her friend on the shoulder and walking on ahead.
“What are you talking about?” Thurma said to him.
“This shit.” Donald pointed back to the bar. “You want some dipshit frat-boy, let me know and I’ll leave right now.”
“I don’t want that.”
“I’m a dork. My name’s Donald by the way.”
“Mine’s Thurma.”
“You’re one too.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” said Thurma. She twisted her lip, then sighed and lowered her gaze to his feet. “But maybe I’m not the bitch who you met, either.”
“Good.”
She looked back up. “Maybe I am just a basic bitch. Maybe if you knew the real me, you wouldn’t have come running to talk to me.”
“I like basic bitches. I’m a basic dude.”
Thurma chuckled, then hid her teeth behind her hand. “So what do you want?”
“Huh?”
“What are you after?” She said, then set her hands on her hips. “Is it a number, to brag to your friend about? Because if you really think you’re going to sleep with me tonight-”
“I came to talk with you. That’s all.”
“Why?”
“Because when I look at you I see a part of me, the part that I like.”
“What part’s that?”
Donald scratched the back of his head, then looked away. “I like good morning texts. I like snuggling. I like having to tell a girl she doesn’t have to worry about what’s-her-name, no matter how paranoid she’s being, or clingy she becomes.”
“I’m not following you.”
Donald shook his head, then returned his gaze to Thurma. He creased his brow when he noticed the mark on her chin, then leaned forward to get a better look at it.
“Stop!” she said, then covered the mark with her hand. “That’s rude.”
Donald grabbed her wrist and forced it away, then set his thumb on her chin. “I like the scar you try to hind behind your makeup.”
Thurma’s exhale came heavy. “Oh…”
“The stuff that puts other guys off, that’s the stuff that I like. You could say that’s from low-confidence, but I don’t think it is. I think it’s a preference.”
“Ok.”
“There’s no line I can say to make you want me, there’s no maneuver I can use that will get you to like me back.”
Thurma’s eyes fidgeted in Donald’s.
“I’m just saying that I’d like to get to know you. If that friend zones me, then fine-”
“You said it.”
“What?”
“About fifteen seconds ago. You said the line that won me.”
“Huh?”
“Kiss me dork.”
Donald moved in with a smirk, then gave Thurma a light peck on the cheek.
Thurma shook her head, then scolded him with a finger wag. “I swear to God, if that’s what you think it means to kiss a girl don’t ever-”
Donald slid his hand through her hair, raking her brunnette locks up in his fingers until he had his hand wrapped around the back of her head. He advanced until her forearm fell flat against his chest, then dug his lips into hers. Thurma’s eyes dropped closed and the phone she had been holding unraveled from her fingers and plummeted until it cracked against the sidewalk. She immediately pressed her newly-freed hand against the side of his face.
An obnoxious series of honks was followed by a loud holler:
“Fuck her already, bro!” Yelled Freddy.
Donald finally took a step back.
“Number,” said Thurma.
“I think your phone broke.”
“Ok.”
Donald smiled, then wrote his down on a wrinkled napkin he’d stored in his pocket. “Nice meeting you,” he said, then turned around and headed towards Freddy’s escalade. Once he took his seat Freddy sped away.
“You better get a tit-pit,” said Freddy.
Donald grinned and looked at him.
“What?” said Freddy.
“I’m the man,” said Donald.
“You’re a man, not sure if you’re the man.”
“No,” said Donald, before turning the bass up on Freddy’s sound system. “I’m the man.”
The End!
Hope you enjoyed.
Thomas M. Watt
September 15, 2015
Donald and Thurma – Part 4
“I think I can,” he said to himself, chugging along the sidewalk tracks. “I think I can.”
Donald power-walked along the sidewalk, determined to make something happen with Thurma, the nerd-pretty brunette he had met at the bar.
* *
“No, Oh God, shit, this isn’t happening.” said Thurma.
“What?” said Amanda.
“That guy I’m into is coming to talk to me.”
“That’s bad?”
“Rather kill myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m into him! What part of this don’t you understand?”
Amanda rolled her eyes, then squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “Just remember what I told you earlier – act like a bitch. Guys want that.”
“What if he tries to leave?”
“Don’t let him.”
* *
Donald met up with Thurma and Amanda, brimming with a big, dumb grin.
“Waddup, hey I just realized I never got to introduce-”
Thurma reached out, but when Donald tried to shake her hand she pulled away.
“Five dollars,” she said. “Else no handshake. Got the goods?”
“Huh?”
“What’s you’re name? I bet it’s stupid.”
“My name’s Donald.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Ok… What’s your name?”
“Go away.”
Donald shook his head, then turned around and started walking in the other direction. He stopped when Thurma grabbed him by the elbow and whirled him around.
“Kidding! My name’s Thurma.”
“Then why did you say ‘go away’?”
“‘Cause that’s what I want you to do.”
Donald stood facing Thurma directly. She reached into her purse, whipped out a stick of gum, then chewed it like a horse with peanut butter gums.
Donald’s phone beeped. He slid it out from his pocket and opened the text from Freddy –
Be a 8—–> if you want ( . )( . )!!! … also, send pictures.
Donald put his phone back in his pocket.
“What you still doin’ here… punk,” she said.
“You grabbed me when I turned to leave.”
“No I didn’t. That was Amanda.”
“Yea,” said Amanda. “What are you gonna do about, huh?”
“Go running to your mommy?” said Thurma.
“Qwy like a little baby?” added Amanda.
“Suck dick like some ratchety ass skank?” said Thurma.
Amanda turned to her friend. “Whoa.”
“What?” said Thurma. “Too much?”
Donald winced his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everything you just said is whack. I think you know that though, no shot you two are stupid enough to think white girl gangs are a thing-”
“90210-” began Thurma.
“They’re not,” said Donald. “But that’s not why I’m pissed.” He pointed at Thurma directly. “I came over to talk to you, because I’m into you, and I swear my intuitive compass either broke or you’re into me, too. No, you what I think? You’ve got something to lose here, that’s why you’re putting on this bull-shit charade.”
Thurma started forward, but Amanda grabbed the back of her dress. Thurma pushed her friend away, then stood face to face with Donald.
“What could I have to lose with you? You’re just another asshole who I don’t want to meet, that’s all!”
“What makes you think I’m an asshole? Maybe I’m the nicest guy you ever met. Maybe I’m the best thing to ever happen to you.”
Thurma rocked her head back and cackled at the clouds. She returned to Donald with a hand on his shoulder and a huge grin on her face. “Please. I have zits that will leave a bigger impact on me.”
“Take your fucking hand off me.”
Thurma rolled her eyes, then did.
“You give me the chance, I’ll prove it to you.”
“What? You got the goods? You’re the man of my dreams?” She looked Donald up and down, then covered her mouth and laughed.
“I am not the man of your dreams.”
“Obviously, I was joking-”
“Try your new reality.”
Thurma laughed. “Never heard that line before. Fine, maybe I’ll let you take me out to dinner sometime-”
“Right now.”
“What?”
“Seafood place on the pier, it’s in walking distance. You and I, now or never,” Donald said, holding his hand out to her.
Thurma shook her head, then took out her phone. Her hand shook as she brushed a hair back. “Here, ok, uh, just put your number-”
“No phones, no numbers.”
She turned around for help from Amanda.
“Sorry, but we’re together tonight,” Amanda said, tugging Thurma back and into herself.
Donald nodded, then began walking away.
“Just give her your number and I swear she’ll go out with you!” Amanda yelled.
Donald turned around slowly, then stared in silence for a moment at the two girls who were suddenly so still.
“My number is 1, and that’s how long my offer stays good for.”
Donald returned to his elevated pace toward Freddy, had the escalade running in the parking lot. He kept his head held high as he strolled, even though it gradually dawned on him that not a word of what he had last said made any coherent sense whatsoever. His heart was still racing and he didn’t get what he’d hoped for, but for the first time in a while, he felt good about finally standing up for himself.
“Wait!”
Donald turned around.
Running after him like a frantic mess was Thurma. She suddenly stopped cold, and held her purse by the strap with both hands.
“I’ll go out with you… Now’s fine.”
To be continued…
Thomas M. Watt
September 14, 2015
Donald and Thurma – Part 3
If you haven’t read part 1, start here.
If you haven’t read part 2, start here.
“Waddup bitches, see you’ve met my friend. Huge cock, case you were wondering. Name’s Freddy,” said Freddy, as he extended his hand out for the girls to shake.
Donald took Freddy’s hand, then yanked him along with him, away from the two girls. “Time to leave.”
“Strip club?” said Freddy.
The pair passed through the doorway, hurried by the smoke crowds, and headed toward the parking lot.
“She’s not feeling it. I don’t want to be here, this isn’t me,” said Donald.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Freddy. He stopped on the sidewalk. “If you want to leave to go somewhere else, that’s one thing, but if you wanna book it ’cause of some chick-”
“I know, I get it, that makes me a pussy.”
“Jeeze, Donald,” said Freddy. He looked his buddy in the eye. “I wasn’t gonna call you that, you know.”
“Ok.”
“Super pussy. That was it.” Freddy’s eyes bulged, and he pointed back toward the bar. “Look!”
Donald whirled around. The two girls were approaching, only Thurma walked stilted, like Amanda may have had a gun to her back.
“Bye I guess,” Thurma said to Donald, as they passed.
Donald waved back. “Nice meeting you,” he muttered after they were out of earshot.
“Is your dick for sale cause that shits in demand these days,” said Freddy.
“What are you talking about?”
“You leave. She leaves. She comes your way, wishes you a goodnight, checks out your package. What do you do? You rotate your hand like the slow-mix setting of a god-damned cake mixer.”
“She checked out my package?”
“Winked at it.”
Donald gulped, lightly patted his hair, then slid his hand along his button-down to smooth out the creases. He then shook his head and turned to Freddy.
“I’m only going over there if you’re one-hundred percent sure she’s interested.”
“Bro,” started Freddy. “Interests is for loaners. Girl is invested. You know who invests?”
“Stock-brokers?”
“Heart breakers.”
“What?”
“Shit rhymes, bro,” said Freddy. “Called a metaphorical simile.”
“Huh?”
Freddy kicked Donald in the ass, leading him to stumble off in the direction of Amanda and Thurma.
“Go get her heart-breaker,” said Freddy.
Donald caught himself then continued to follow his feet.”I think I can,” He said to himself. A new flurry of visuals played through his mind, the type he wasn’t accustomed to – confident images. He stopped thinking of himself as an inconvenience to the world around him, and began to entertain the possibility that he actually could make a girl happy, and maybe Thurma would be the one for him.
“I think I can,” he said to himself, chugging along the sidewalk tracks. “I think I can.”
To be continued…
Thomas M. Watt
September 12, 2015
Donald and Thurma – Part 2
If you haven’t read part 1, start here.
Donald and Freddy sat at a back table, a beer to each of them.
“Who you keep staring at?” said Freddy.
Donald shook his head. “Nobody, forget it.”
“Don’t be a pussy. Who is it?”
“The girl I ran into at the door. She seemed nice.”
“We want bad bitches, not basic bitches. Where she at?”
Freddy poked his head up like an ostrich, prompting Amanda and Thurma to stop looking in Donald’s direction.
“The blonde or brunette?” said Freddy.
“God, you have to be so obvious?”
Freddy smacked Donald on the forearm. “You have to be such a bitch? Blonde one’s hotter, go for her.”
“No. I like the brunette,” said Donald, glancing at Thurma after he said it.
“Makes sense, you don’t have enough confidence to take down a tiger like that blonde. Girl got a dumper.”
“Tiger? Dumper? What?”
“Are you gonna go over there or just sit here and talk about going over there?” said Freddy.
Donald scratched the back of his head, then crossed his arms and sunk into the table. He took a sip of his drink.
“Let me finish my beer first. That way I have a reason to-”
Before he could finish his sentence, Freddy knocked the glass mug off the table. It shattered and the blue moon washed away.
“What the hell?” said Donald.
“Oh shit, looks like you need another drink! Now get your ass over there and talk to her.”
Donald bit his lips, checked out Thurma again, then stood up.
“Fine.”
“And remember-”
“What?”
“Be an asshole. Else you’ll be stuck in the friend zone again.”
Donald sighed. “Got it,” he said, then started over to the bar.
* *
“Oh, he’s coming,” said Amanda, nudging her friend.
“Which one? The douche or the one who maybe lifeguards during rainy days in autumn?” said Thurma.
Amanda’s head bobbed back. “That was a pretty specific description.”
“Just tell me!”
“The tall one with the good-boy hair.”
“God no. Shit. I don’t want to do this. Come with me to the bathroom,” Thurma said, then stood up from her bar stool.
Amanda grabbed the bottom of her skirt and whipped it up.
“Stop!” Said Thurma, snapping back into her seat.
“Haha. You’re going through with this. Remember – demand respect.”
“By being a bitch?”
“Yep.”
“Oh shit. God dammit. Got it.”
The two went quiet, and Donald took the seat beside Thurma.
* *
Donald turned to Thurma, and the two met eyes. Neither smiled, and both instantly looked straight ahead.
“Waddup,” said Donald.
“Who are you talking to?”
Donald looked at her. “Oh. Didn’t notice you there. You’re so short.”
Thurma raised her eyebrows, then turned to Amanda. Amanda pushed her so hard Thurma’s barstool rocked and sent her colliding into Donald.
Donald caught her in his arms. “Be careful! You okay… idiot?”
“Yeah, I – What?”
“What.”
Thurma pursed her lips together. “You’re not good enough for me. Bye.”
“Oh. Ok,” said Donald. He began looking around for Freddy, but his friend had disappeared from their table.
“Who are you looking for?” said Thurma, hands to her hips. “And why are you still here?” She brushed one of her curly brown locks back behind her ear, then stood with her hands at her hips.
“More… bitches,” said Donald.
“You’re looking for more bitches?”
“Yea. Badder ones. You’re a basic… be-yotch.”
“We prefer the to be called females.”
“Oh ok. I’m looking for more females.”
“You sound like a moron.”
“Ok,” said Donald. Both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, then stopped when they thought the other person would. Neither said anything, and both looked away.
“You’re kind of a b,” said Donald.
“A b?” said Thurma, before pressing her tongue into her teeth. “What’s that b stand for, eh?”
“I said ‘B’, not ‘A’.”
They both smiled and laughed.
Something gave Donald a sudden jolt forward, and his momentum sent him shoving Thurma into Amanda. Both girls spilled their drinks all over their dresses, then stared at Donald with shark jaws.
Wide-eyed, Donald slowly turned around to see who had shoved him.
“Waddup bitches, see you’ve met my friend. Huge cock, case you were wondering. Name’s Freddy,” said Freddy, as he extended his hand out for the girls to shake.
To be continued…
– Thomas M. Watt
September 10, 2015
Social Media and #Pitmad Update
Let me start out by saying I’m grateful to be here.
No, seriously. I’ve spent the last few hours fumbling my way through twitter, goodreads, and a few cover design pages. My last post outlined five goals for promoting my book. I’m happy to say I can check off all of them.
The big #pitmad event was today. Much thanks to Zara Kramer with Pandamoon Publishing for favoriting my pitch for Master, I look forward to querying you shortly.
Anyway, contacting potential cover artists was a piece of cake. I’m not too particular – if the portfolio looks professional, I’m in.
After that I logged some hours on goodreads. God I’m lost there. I posted in three different discussion threads, then updated my page with a worthless post. If you like laughing at clueless people, scroll down and read the comment that begins with “waddup goodreaders.” I don’t even know how to link directly to the post, but here’s one for my profile page. I’m sure all 1 of my goodreads friends can’t wait to check it out.
One of the big highlights of my day was having a few of my tweets retweeted. By some mega-twitter accounts and highly established authors, mind you – Carole Gill, J. H. Moncrief, and Charity Parkerson. Apparently they liked what I had to say. Or maybe they just thought my hopeless twitter account would give their hordes of followers a good chuckle. I really want to thank them properly, but I’m not yet educated about twitter etiquette. Do I say: Thanks for retweeting! @twitternamehere(?)
Please answer if you know how to solve this dilemma. I signed up to follow these word-weaving powerhouses, but feel obliged to properly express my gratitude.
Happy #pitmad day everyone.
Thomas M. Watt
September 9, 2015
First 5 steps to book marketing & MASTER Update – 9/9
Contrary to amateur belief, it’s most beneficial for an author to market their work before it is published. This way, potential readers will have something to look forward to, much like the opening weekend of a new blockbuster movie. That’s why we see trailers for movies that aren’t going to appear in theaters until much later; to generate some hype and anticipation.
If you’re like me, promoting your work is alien to your nature and feels like an insult to art (I am trapped by this deep-seeded ideal that beauty should be recognized the moment it is seen, and is apparent enough in itself that it should never have to be pointed out to anyone. Then I remind myself that Van Gogh never sold a painting).
Fortunately, the world wide web holds an endless bounty of information, and enough google searches will get you off the sidewalk and onto the main road. I owe a lot to Benjamin Myatt, author of the High Moon Rising series for pointing me in the right direction. His books have been downloaded several hundred times over. He recommended I check out this link, which led me to a free, downloadable PDF file that includes a checklist of the most effective ways to promote my book.
Now that I have a plan for marketing Master, I feel much better about my future as an independent author. It’s hard for any artist to accept, but nobody is going to buzz your doorbell to ask if you’re the next big thing. You’ve got to bang knuckles door-to-door and say, “Here I am.”
Below is my list of things to do today in order to get the ball rolling in the marketing department. Follow along if you’re in the beginning stages of promoting your work.
1.) Contact three potential cover artists (whose portfolios include covers for psychological thrillers)
2.) Create a list of keywords that describe ‘Master’, seek out blogs that express interest in those keywords
3.) Involve myself in an online forum without being called an idiot, getting booted, or giving out my address to someone who wants to help me receive an assault and battery charge.
4.) Figure out how Goodreads works (What’s this place for? Am I supposed to log-in when I read a book, then log-out when I’m done?)
5.) Figure out how to get more twitter followers.
* One final note, tomorrow (9/10/15) there is a #pitmad event on twitter that allows you to pitch your story to tons of literary agents. (write your logline in 140 characters or less and use the hashtag #pitmad). I plan on entering Master, and suggest you enter whatever story you’re currently working on.
Thomas M. Watt
September 7, 2015
Donald and Thurma – Part 1
Donald sat in the passenger seat of Freddy’s Escalade, still glaring at the same text:
I just think you and I are better off as friends.
He shook his head, then stared out the window.
“I’m telling you bro,” said Freddy. “You took too long to make your move. That’s where you messed up.”
“It shouldn’t be like that,” said Donald.
“Well it is like that! Girls like dudes who are aggressive. Stop pussy-footing around, I want you to be a man tonight.”
Donald scoffed.
“C’mon dude,” said Freddy. “This bar’s going to have a ton of hot chicks tonight. You’re gonna get yours, and you’re going to feel a lot better.”
“I could give two shits about getting laid,” said Donald.
“And that’s your problem.”
“Why?”
“She stuck you in the friend zone, didn’t she?”
“So?”
Freddy turned to Donald and raised his eyebrows. “What is the one thing that separates friends from lovers?”
Donald gazed at the text again, then sighed.
“You can’t be afraid to hurt their feelings. There’s a reason girls always fall for assholes.”
Donald stared out the passenger window for a bit.
“You hearin’ me bro?” said Freddy.
Donald stuffed his phone in his pocket. “Ok. Tonight we do it your way.”
* *
Thurma and her friend Amanda walked to the bar together. It was only a few blocks from their apartment.
“I’m telling you!” said Amanda. “Greg walked all over you because you let him. You have to stop being so nice to these assholes.”
“I never said he was an asshole,” said Thurma.
“All guys are assholes.”
Thurma laughed.
Amanda playfully smacked her arm. “You think I’m joking, but I’m not. At least, that’s the way you have to approach the game.”
“What game?”
“Love! It’s a game, and if you haven’t figured that out by now than I’m afraid even I can’t help you.”
“Why can’t I just be myself and find someone who likes me for who I am?”
“Because that doesn’t exist. Guys like bitches and hoes. Which one are you?”
Thurma cracked a chuckle. “Neither, jeeze!”
“Well I’m a bitch.
“Not to me,” said Thurma.
“To guys I am. And you know what?”
“What?” said Thurma.
Amanda’s phone beeped. She held it out for Thurma to see, then smiled at her. “Oh, what’s this? Another ‘I’m sorry’ text? God, I swear I must have ignored a hundred of these already.”
“That’s mean.”
“All is fair in love and war Thurma.”
“So what are you telling me? I should just start acting like a bitch to every guy I talk to?”
“If you want them to respect you, than yeah.”
Thurma shook her head.
“One night. Just try it out! See how it feels.”
They reached the bar, and Thurma took hold of the entry door when Amanda grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her back.
“What?” said Thurma.
“I want you to promise me. One night.”
“Be a bitch?” said Thurma.
Amanda grinned. “Demand respect.”
“By being a bitch?”
Amanda looked off to the side, then shrugged.
Thurma rolled her eyes. “Alright. For one night.”
“That’s the spirit!”
She turned around and reached for the door handle again, but this time she met hands with Donald, who grabbed it at the exact same time.
“Oh,” said Donald. “Sorry.”
Thurma laughed. “It’s okay.”
“HEY! Let’s move it along here!” said Freddy, who came up quick behind Donald.
“Ya, please do,” said Amanda, before pulling Thurma away from them.
Donald entered the bar with Freddy, and shortly after Thurma and Amanda followed behind.
To be continued…
Thomas M. Watt
