Weekly Writing Finalist: Untitled by Megan Dingler
I can’t say that Shannon’s very smart, but she’s a decider. Once she’s on a course of action, nothing will stop her, and when she’s done, when she’s down and out, when I swoop in and rescue her yet again, I always say, “Shannon, you’re an uber pain in the ass. I’m tired of cleaning up your messes.” And she always replies, “Yeah, I know, I should’ve listened to you last week.”
Two weeks ago her big idea was to rent herself out as a stripper. “You know,” she said, “for bachelor parties and stuff.” And because I have a cautious nature and soft eyes, I said “you’d better not do it, you’ll end up fershnickered in the company of neckbeards and fagals.” She didn’t listen. Instead, she printed business cards and went to a bar to hand them out. I watched as one guy said to her, “I want a private audience, just you, me, and your nunga nungas.” He pushed his hand into her bra and left a dirty dub. She pulled out the twenty triumphantly to show me. Another guy wanted phone sex. She said she’d have to expand her business.
The next day she received two emails. One was a prank—a Rick Roll. The other was a job from a guy who described himself as a hommie (yes, two m’s). Disastrously, she took it.
She called me the night of the job. She was downtown, drunk. She said, “The guys wanted me to spin brodies behind wal-mart with them. They robbed me and now they’re gone.” When I arrived, I noticed two men in the alley behind her, one with his pants down, saying “What?! I have a wide stance.”
I said, “Shannon, you’re an uber pain in the ass.” She said, “I should’ve listened.”
Two weeks ago her big idea was to rent herself out as a stripper. “You know,” she said, “for bachelor parties and stuff.” And because I have a cautious nature and soft eyes, I said “you’d better not do it, you’ll end up fershnickered in the company of neckbeards and fagals.” She didn’t listen. Instead, she printed business cards and went to a bar to hand them out. I watched as one guy said to her, “I want a private audience, just you, me, and your nunga nungas.” He pushed his hand into her bra and left a dirty dub. She pulled out the twenty triumphantly to show me. Another guy wanted phone sex. She said she’d have to expand her business.
The next day she received two emails. One was a prank—a Rick Roll. The other was a job from a guy who described himself as a hommie (yes, two m’s). Disastrously, she took it.
She called me the night of the job. She was downtown, drunk. She said, “The guys wanted me to spin brodies behind wal-mart with them. They robbed me and now they’re gone.” When I arrived, I noticed two men in the alley behind her, one with his pants down, saying “What?! I have a wide stance.”
I said, “Shannon, you’re an uber pain in the ass.” She said, “I should’ve listened.”
