The Bet

“The Bet.”

Author - Take a guess.

Description - Title tells enough.

For every girl who gave love, but never received it in return.

1

“Man, you have *got* to be kidding me,” Andrea bursts. I look over to my shoulder and see six girls walking into the bar. They all have a very neat and proper style. Its obvious they’ve been perfectly raised by their rich Mommies and Daddies. Each one of them are wearing either khakis or capris with cute little shirts. No wrinkly t-shirts, no absurd pierces or heavy jewelry. Just the primp and pertinent style they flaunted. 

No wonder Andrea is complaining. She hates preppies.

“Don’t they know they are in a dyke bar?” Monica asks. 

“Oh, they’re gonna know after I go over there,” Andrea says. I laugh at this comment while she goes on with her “Billy bad ass” portrayal.

“Ah, just leave them,” I say. I mean, who cares? I know I certainly don’t. Im here to have a good time just like they are. 

“Why?” Monica whines. “They come here and act like idiots anyways. Like, ‘oh my god, were in a gay bar.’ I don’t go to the straight bar and act retarded.” I begin rolling my eyes. Here we go. The cynical behavior is about to arise.

“Monica, don’t tell me you haven’t gone into a straight bar and let out a vibe that you’re a lesbian,” I say. She couldn’t deny it. I had went with her.

“Of course I have,” she replies. I watch as she inhales her cigarette. Ugh, how gross.

“Well, there you go. Get on with it. They haven’t come over here and started bothering us. Who cares besides you two? Jeez,” I sigh. They never let go of anything. We’re in a public bar for christ sake.

Andrea is looking at them like she wants to rip their heads off. I turn around, anxious to see what they are doing that has gotten her so mad. 

I look and see all six of them sipping mixed drinks. They laugh and giggle a little bit. Not one of them talk to anybody else except those in their little group. I had to admit it, they were a little conceited. You can see it in their behavior.

“God, they are annoying.” Monica complains.

“I have to say it though. That one on the right is pretty hot,” I admit. She was sitting on the barstool with her legs crossed. I could see the perfectly dark tan where the capris ended. Her legs were muscular and smooth, just like her arms. I watched as she flipped her soft hair and revealed dark green eyes. Damn.

“You say that about every girl you bang, or at least want to bang,” Monica implies. “Every girl I bang? Gee, thanks.” I say while laughing. Well, that was real nice.

“Don’t be jealous because you never get laid,” Andrea snickers before bursting out laughing. I watch Monica smack her in the leg. “You just think that because I wont screw you,” she corrects.

I just witness all this, chuckling. I love these guys. I’ve been best friends with each one of them for years. They have made me really come to a conclusion: can’t go anywhere without ‘em.

“Well, Rachel does enough screwing for all of us anyways,” Monica says. “Just last week I seen her walk out of here with that Tiffany girl.” Andreas eyes become large at hearing this.

“What? I thought that girl was straight.” Andrea looks over to me, anticipating my response. 

“Well,” I say. “She is definitely not.” Andrea begins laughing her ass off. “Your too much for me. I think if this girl tried, she could get a damn statue to lick her snatch.” Monica chuckles hearing this while I just sit there with a grin. What am I suppose to say? Im not going to deny the fact that I get around. Besides, its nobodies business but mine.

Monica leans in the table and says, “Yeah, but I bet she can’t get one of those preppies in the sack.” 

I chuckle at this, and respond in my usually manner. With a grin I reply, “Well, of course. That is against everything in my rule book.”

“Oh I forgot. The precious rule book you so prudently live by.” Monica rolls her eyes with an angry, disgruntled look. “I don’t understand your precautions and standards.”

“What? The fact that I won’t interact with heterosexuals? Or is it fact that I refuse to set myself up for denial? It makes sense Monica. Just because you don’t agree with it doesn’t mean that I am going to change.” Andrea is just looking at us, not really knowing exactly what to say.

I decide to go on with my ranting and raving. “See, there is this problem with straight women. They never seem to like me....I wonder if its because they prefer sausage over salad.”

Monica begins to laugh. “Your such a dumb shit. I’m not talking about heteros, ass. I am talking about bisexuals and every other woman you push away because she doesn’t meet your standards.”

“Im sorry that I don’t want to deal with ‘I’ve never done this before,’ or ‘I’m not ready. I don’t think I like girls.’ Or your flirting with them one week, and the next week they are screwing Bud, the quarterback. Its such bullshit. Your still setting yourself up for denial. Bisexuals are all such damn poon teases.”

Andrea decides she wants to join the conversation again. “You can still get that from anyone. Lesbians change their minds too. Don’t you see how narrow minded your being?.” Bullshit. I knew what I was talking about. 

“Narrow minded? Because I have three rules? Come on, you have got to be kidding me.” This is ridiculous. I go out to the bar and get told how to live my life.

“Alright, stop arguing. She is obviously never going to give in. So, I have an alternative.” Monica is looking me in the eyes. I wonder what this is all about.

Monica nods her head to the girls over at the bar. “The one on the right,” she says.

“What about her?” I ask while looking over. 

“If you can get her to sleep with you in three months, I will pay you two thousand dollars.” Oh god. They have been trying this for months. Getting me to go out with girls who don’t have lesbian written all over them. I never sleep with a girl unless I am certain she is anti-penis.

I immediately shake my head no. “Absolutely not. Not only is she straight, but she has a ring on her finger. Plus, look at the way she is sitting and looking around. The girl is horrified and homophobic. She might as well have I LOVE PENIS written on her fucking forehead.”

“Five thousand,” Monica says. I gasp. That is a lot of money.

“You know what? I don’t understand you. They walk in here and you guys start going on with ‘don’t they know their in a dyke bar?’ Now, once again, you sit here and preach about how I am narrow minded. Do you have any idea how badly you contradict yourselves?”

“Quit changing the subject,” Monica mumbles.

“There is a huge difference,” Andrea says. “They come in here, knowing it’s a lesbian joint. Then they ridicule us, when they are the ones in the wrong place to begin with.” I listen to her go ballistic on me for a good five minutes. I sigh after every minute she still isn’t done yet.

“You, on the other hand, refuse to talk to ANY woman who doesn’t smell like a lesbian. That is why I don’t understand how you get laid so often.”

I smile wryly, knowing exactly why.

“Come on Rachel. Its five thousand dollars,” Monica protests. Its sickening to know that she can afford to just give me five thousand dollars. That is what happens when you own three adult book stores.

“I don’t want your money Monica.”

“Please, I have more than enough. We live together and split all the costs. I hardly have anything to pay for.”

I sigh. My parlor needs a lot of work done to it, and the money would be more than handy.