The Girls That End in E


Posted by Austin W. Dallas | 0 Comments

Fair day is by far one of my favorite days to live in Dallas. My friends and I always go on the Saturday of Texas OU weekend. Most of us went to Texas A&M, but we do have a bunch of friends who went to U.T. The fair is super busy on that day, but it thins out just right when the game is going on. We walk around, see the car show, sample the various fair fare, try to avoid getting hustled into buying another set of Sham-Wows. Most of the time is some sort of fried goodness covered in whipped cream and/or chocolate sauce that at least one person has to try. I found my favorite years ago, fried cheesecake, so I usually stick with that. I will try something new on occasion. Someone bought the fried margarita to try out. Soggy batter in sweet & sour mix, mmm mmm not good.

We rode the train to the fair, which was convenient because I live close to Deep Ellum. Coming home was not. We had to ride the entire route of the train to get back. It took over an hour and I almost fell asleep on the train and missed the stop.

I got home and tried to take a nap. I was unsuccessful, but the drunk wore off, so I could at least go back out. I headed up to a bar on Greenville Avenue where my roommate and one of her girlfriends were hanging out. Yes, I live with a girl. No, we do not have a gray line in our relationship. It’s more like we are brother and sister, except if the other one is getting it on, we’re happy for the other and not uncomfortable.

Her and her girlfriend had been up there a while so they were flirtin’ it up with these two guys. One looked like a cop and the other one looked like he had been hanging out in the Hollister store earlier that day picking out his wardrobe.

I was instantly bored. I went inside and was just going to pay my tab and go meet some other friends at a different bar. I looked across the bar and noticed a couple people that I knew. I walked over to say hi. They were hammered and damn near incoherent. There was a girl with my friends who appeared single. She looked okay. Not a supermodel by any means, but had a cute face. At least it was cute enough to me after being at the fair all day. The wife introduced me to her girlfriend. Her name was Sandy. I thought to myself, how appropriate, I am going to use you to get myself out of the desert. I felt like I had been drowning in sand for the past couple months. This is my personal mantra for those times when you find yourself on a long drought. Just because it looks like a weed, doesn't mean it can't be considred a flower.

Sandy was fairly drunk already and wanted to take shots. I am not a big shot taker because every time I take a bunch of shots I end up sleeping in a strange place wondering who the F*%^ is this next to me? And why am I wearing my pants around my ankle? It would not be that strange, except that I always seem to end up with my foot through the pee hole. F^%&in’ tequila!

I obliged her and took the shots. We hung out for a while. About an hour later, I walked her back to her house. We went inside and sat on the porch. We made out a little, she put my hand up her skirt and she proceeded to pass out.

Great. Here I am. On this chic’s patio, uncomfortable, chilly, dogs running around everywhere and she is out cold. I do what everyone should do in this situation should do. I passed out too.

A couple hours of uncomfortable sleep later...

We both woke up freezing our asses off. We went and got in her bed. Yadda Yadda Yadda. Screamers are always fun. The next morning comes, but not before she also did about five or so times.

It is time for me to get outta here, but instead we start to talk.


“What’s up.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Not really.”

“I did, you knocked me out last night from exhaustion.”

“That's cool.”

Where the hell are my clothes so I can go home?

“Are my clothes on floor on that side?”

“They are.”

“Will you hand them to me?”

“Here you go.”


I just want to leave. She hands me my clothes and I start to put them on. She puts her hand down my pants and gets things started again. We finish up.

“I did not want you to leave quite yet.”

“That was one way to get me to stay.”

“So, are you going to call me? I would like to see you again.”

“Do you even remember my name?”

She rolls her eyes upwards trying to remember.

“I think it starts with an A.”


“Well you do look like Christopher Columbus.”

Uh oh, Psycho alert. I did realize that last night, but I needed to get some before I went insane, or blind from too much solo time.

“Was Christopher Columbus a handsome man?"

“He is to me. He is my favorite historical figure.”

“Mine is Benjamin Franklin.”

Dammit! Am I getting looped into a conversation?

“Did you know that Christopher Columbus was a Virgo too?”

How is it that she knows my sun sign, but cannot remember my f&^%in’ name?

“I think I will go as Florence Nightingale for Halloween. What are you going to be?”

 My voice goes up an octave, “Florence Nightingale!?!? Who? What? Why? That does not sound very slutty to me.”

“Florence Nightingale was a pioneer in the presentation of statistical graphics and information as well as a nurse during the Crimean War, which she claimed was because God called her to do so. She was said to have reduced the death rate during that war by forty percent. She was a leader in the Women’s movement in Victorian England. It was also rumored she had a lesbian affair with Queen Victoria. So you see she likes girls too, just like me.”

“Oh really?”

“I thought that might peak your interest.”

“Tell me about your latest lesbian affair.”

“There is this petite little red head I hook up with on occasion. This girl really knows how to touch me. You have that in common with her. She has the softest fingers. A lot of times we play dress up before having sex. That was my favorite time to wear my Florence Nightingale outfit.”

“Hold on. Just one second. What exactly does that outfit look like?”

“Kind of like a Quaker.”

“A Quaker? Well does not sound very appealing. What did your little friend wear?”

“She dresses up as Queen Victoria, of course.”

Sarcastically, “Of course, who else would she be?”

“We would pretend we were sneaking around the castle trying not to get caught by Prince Albert who was usually in the bathroom.” …

I swear, if this girl is setting me up for a Prince Albert in the can joke.

… “We dance and laugh and then we make love. We did talk about one fantasy where we get caught by Prince Albert during the act. He does not get mad though. He joins in. I think you should go as Prince Albert for Halloween.”

As crazy as this all sounds, I am just about on the verge of considering this whole kookery. She starts to rub inside my pants again.

Well, why not?

About an hour later.

 “I think I remember your name now."

"Oh yeah. What is it?"

"Avery right?”

Avery? Not quite. This is my out. So, I take this perfect opportunity to get the hell outta here.

In a faked annoyed tone, “Nope! I gotta go.”

“Okay, fine”, sounding disappointed.

I finish getting dressed and leave. I walk to my truck, go home and crash hard.

A few hours later I woke up and check my email. I have a new Facebook message from Sandy titled Christopher Columbus look-a-like. Wow! She found me fast, especially for not remembering my name. Ugh, I am so annoyed. Gone are the days of the anonymous hook up. Damn you Facebook, some days I really hate you.

The Girls That End in "E"

  • Courtney if you want to read about a girl who might be from another planet.
  • Sandy if you want to read about a girl who Facebook stalks and might time travel.
  • Robbie if you want to read about a girl who gave me a red rocket.
  • Allie if you want to read about a girl who likes to play dress up.

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