Authors: Karen McCullah Lutz

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women

The Bachelorette Party (13 page)

BOOK: The Bachelorette Party

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Zadie had never been in the Hustler store. Not because she was a prude by any means. She liked sex quite a bit, in fact. She just never felt the need to garnish it with vibrators and body paint and butt plugs and whatnot. Call her a purist, but she liked her sex to involve just a man’s naked body and her own. And the idea of a rubber penis without a man attached to it held little interest for her. She preferred the whole package.

The driver pulled up and stopped at the curb. The bright neon Hustler sign glared down at them, inviting them in to purchase perversion in all shapes and sizes.

“I think I’ll wait here,” Kim said.

Denise grabbed her arm and pulled her out. “Come on. Maybe you’ll find something to heat up ‘date night.’”

Jane took her other arm. “Not everything they have is disgusting. Some of it is fun.”

Kim was still unsure, but she let the girls walk her in. Her clone, Marci, was a bit more adventuresome. She headed straight for the lingerie.

Some of the shoppers turned to stare at the sight of Denise’s large pregnant belly making its way through the aisles of
Barely Legal
and
Beaver Hunt
magazines, but most were too enthralled with the thousands of porn videos and DVDs on display to be bothered.

Gilda held one up to show Zadie. “
Clownfuckers
. There’s a whole series of them! People dressed as clowns having sex!”

Zadie picked up a video and read the title. “
A Load in Every Hole
. Now that’s romantic. Do you really think they mean every hole? Are ears included? Because I’m thinking that could lead to an infection.”

“Oh, my God, wait. This is the best one.” Gilda held up a DVD triumphantly. “
Pee, Midget, Pee!
” As they flipped the DVD over to see if there were actual pictures of midgets peeing, they heard a screech from across the store. Zadie was almost afraid to look. Turns out she didn’t have to. Helen came running over. Wearing a strap-on.

“Check it out! I have a dick!” She waggled it around at them, not at all put off by the fact that it was bright blue and at least ten inches long.

Zadie swatted at it with a copy of
Granny’s Biracial Gang
Bang and Helen ran off to wave it at Snotty and Skinny, who were perusing the nipple rings. “If you’d told me this morning that I’d be watching Helen get drunk and run around with a strap-on, I never would’ve believed you. She’s the girl who used to close her eyes during the love scenes in
Blue Lagoon
.”

Gilda set down a copy of
Honey, I Blew Everybody
and kept her eye on Helen. “Everyone has a wild streak somewhere.” They looked over to where Jane was holding up a mesh teddy for inspection. “Jane’s a little kinky, I think. Those two idiots from Helen’s store are just slutty”

“Oh, come on, who
hasn’t
given a blow job to a stranger in a bar parking lot?” As Gilda turned to look at her, Zadie quickly added, “I’m kidding.”

“What I want to know is what’s Betsy’s deep dark secret? She’s got to be into something twisted.” They looked over to where she was trying on feather boas at the insistence of Denise, who was wearing a faux-fur cowboy hat that said SPANK ME.

“I’m thinking Internet sex. She’s probably got a couple boyfriends in prison. She always liked a captive audience.”

Helen came running back over, tottering in her heels, out of breath from waving her penis. “You guys, come over to the dressing room. Jane is picking out my honeymoon trousseau.”

Five minutes later, the women were all watching as Helen walked out of the dressing room in a black leather teddy that barely covered her nipples, let alone her actual tits. The outfit basically consisted of a giant leather X that crossed her torso and was attached at the hips to a thong.

“What do you think?” Helen asked.

“I think you’ll never leave the hotel. Why bother to go to Fiji? Just stay here at a Comfort Inn,” Denise said.

Betsy’s mouth hung open. “I can see your pubes!”

Marci and Kim covered their eyes. “I can’t look,” Marci said. Kim agreed. “It’s obscene!”

“I think it’s amazing,” Skinny said. “Grey will lose his mind.”

“Definitely sex-bomb material,” Snotty agreed.

“My brother’s a lucky man.”

“It’s pretty hot,” Jane said. “But maybe it’s too hot. Grey might not be ready for that look on his wedding night. Save it for the end of the week.”

Zadie couldn’t come up with anything to say. Helen looked like a porn star. A very pretty, well-groomed, virginal porn star. It was the kind of outfit that Zadie would never have the nerve to try on at home, let alone parade around a store in. People were starting to gather. Several men set down their pocket pussy testers and wandered over.

“Maybe you should try on the next outfit,” Zadie suggested. She looked around for a security guard in case they needed one.

Helen next came out in a white fur-trimmed silk teddy with matching bridal veil.

“Is this better?”

Jane nodded. “Definitely more appropriate for the wedding night.”

Zadie agreed, along with the rest of the women. She’d spent her wedding night in her bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, so she was hardly the expert in this department. Although she had managed to vomit on both slippers, a feat of which she was quite proud.

A short, innocuous-looking man wearing a windbreaker held up a chain-mail halter. “Excuse me, miss? Can you try this on next?”

Betsy turned around and smacked him with the nearest thing she could find—a two-foot, stuffed, red faux-fur penis pillow. “This is not a peep show!” The man skulked off, disappointed. Betsy turned back to the women, still clutching the penis. “Can you believe him? Creepy little perv. People have no appreciation for the idea of girls’ night.”

“Nice pillow.” Denise pointed to the penis and Betsy looked down at what she was holding. Zadie braced herself for a shriek, but Betsy gave the pillow a cuddle.

“This is kind of cute.”

Zadie looked at her watch. It was nine-fifteen. She wanted to remember this moment always—the moment when the stick was finally removed from Betsy’s ass.

“Oh, my gosh! Look what I found!” Kim had a box in her hand that read BACHELORETTE PARTY KIT. “We should get it. It has games!”

When they left the store, they had with them a bag containing five teddies (including the black leather one), the red stuffed penis pillow, a blow-up doll with a detachable dildo, the blue strap-on, a bag of penis confetti, and the bachelorette party kit. Snotty and Skinny had also picked up some piña colada-flavored lube, and Denise, always thinking about food, bought something called Peter Butter that was supposed to flavor her husband’s appendage. Jane had also picked up a bridal veil with devil horns on top for Helen to wear for the rest of the evening, since it only seemed appropriate.

Once they were ensconced in their pimp wagon and stuck in the Sunset Strip traffic, they were left with the dilemma of where to go. The sex toys had reinvigorated the group.

“We can’t go back to the hotel now,” Jane said. “We have to follow the instructions.” She held up the bachelorette party kit and started reading off the items from the scavenger hunt list. “‘Get a guy to wear the bride’s bra.’ That should be easy. ‘Get a guy to lick flavored body gel off bride’s neck.’ No problem there. ‘Get a guy to show his butt and pose for a picture with the bride-to-be.’ Now we’re talking.”

“Are we really going to ask men to do these things?” Kim asked.

“Hey, it was your idea to play games,” Denise said, as she threw a handful of the purple penis confetti into the air.

Gilda took a break from pouring her lungs into the blow-up doll. “I think we should get someone to pose with this guy.”

“He’s better looking than those guys from Atlanta,” Snotty said, giving him a poke with her French-manicured nail. Zadie noted that it was the tacky kind of French manicure—the kind where the white started halfway down the nail. There’s really no excuse for that.

“What should we name him?” Gilda asked.

“Hans,” Eloise said. “He looks like a Hans.”

Helen blew up Hans’s detachable dildo. “Look, my first blow job!”

As they drove past the Saddle Ranch, the rowdy crowd was already leaking out onto the porch. Through the doors, they could see people riding a mechanical bull. It looked like a giant frat party set in the Wild West. In other words, it was perfect. Helen and her drunken, lewd observations would blend right in, offending no one.

“Stop here,” Zadie yelled to the driver, shaking the penis confetti out of her hair.

She turned back to the women. “Ladies, grab your sex toys. We’re goin’ in.”

twenty-two

Inside the barnlike Saddle Ranch, it was crowded and hot and filled with a distinctly nonscenester L.A. crowd. It was more of a mix of college kids, tourists, and white men in sports jerseys who called each other “dawg” mingling among the bales of hay and mannequins dressed as cowgirls.

Within seconds of walking in, Helen had a fraternity vice president from USC wearing her white lace Chantelle bra. Denise dutifully snapped a picture with the disposable camera. When he didn’t want to give the bra back, he got an earful from Betsy before she yanked it away from him, causing him to slink back to his friends muttering, “That bitch with the ponytail is psycho.”

Moments later, a Swedish tourist who looked like Bono was licking the strawberry body gel off Helen’s neck while she smiled prettily for the camera. He spoke very little English and didn’t seem to understand that it was a game. He hung around afterward trying to lick Helen again. Skinny shooed him away, saying, “Go away now.” Welcome to America.

Jane held up the list. “C’mon, Zadie. Find us a guy who’ll show us his butt.”

Zadie looked around the immediate vicinity and spotted a wannabe gangster whose pants were so low his butt was pretty much on display already. Too easy.

A hot guy in a blue T-shirt walked by on his way to the bar. He gave Zadie one of those “Hey, you’re cute” smiles and she grabbed his arm. “Excuse me. Will you show us your butt and pose for a picture with the bachelorette?” She pointed at Helen, noting that her veil and devil horns were now crooked on her head as she chugged a Bud Light.

The guy looked back at Zadie, confused. “You want me to show you my butt? Like right here?”

“Exactly.”

He shrugged. “Okay.” Zadie waved Helen over as he unbuckled his pants and slid down his boxers. Denise tossed her the camera.

“Okay, Helen, crouch down right next to his crack and say cheese!” As Helen crouched down, she opted to
bite
his butt as opposed to posing with it.

“Oww!” He yanked his pants back up and turned to Zadie. “You didn’t tell me she was gonna bite me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know she was hungry.”

“Good thing you didn’t ask to see my dick.” He walked off in a huff.

Helen yelled after him. “Pussy!”

Zadie would’ve felt guilty but the whole situation was too ridiculous. “Don’t let Eloise see you biting strange ass. I think she’s planning on giving Grey a full report.”

“Eloise can bite my ass,” Helen slurred. “No wait. Eloise can bite her own ass.” She swayed a bit, then flounced off to get another drink. How she was managing to stay upright in her heels was a mystery.

Gilda handed Zadie a beer. “The soccer moms look bored.” Zadie looked over to find them ordering Diet Cokes at the bar. Marci was clutching the red penis pillow like a security blanket. Kim was wearing one of the feather boas. Eloise was next to them, trying to pick up a college kid. He looked repulsed. Snotty and Skinny were chatting up two Persian men, probably looking for next month’s rent. Betsy was trying to take Helen’s drink away, but Helen was stronger. Jane was chatting up a guy with ridiculous
sideburns. From what Zadie could hear, it sounded like she was trying to get him to show Helen his balls. Denise was in the bathroom puking.

“Is this what you do on a typical Saturday night in L.A.?” Gilda shouted over the noise.

“I’m usually home with a video and a bottle of wine, avoiding places like this.” She looked out at the crowd of men she would never date. “See that guy over there? He keeps wagging his tongue piercing at us.”

“I have to admit, it’s a relief to be married when I see my options.”

“Where’d you meet your husband?”

“In college.”

“Fuck you.”

“I know. Sorry.”

The crowd around the mechanical bull got even rowdier if that was possible, causing Zadie to look over with concern, finding exactly what she feared. Helen was now astride the bull, along with Hans and his inflatable penis. As the bull bucked, Helen and Hans simulated some pretty raunchy sex, much to the amusement of the crowd, who were hooting and hollering their appreciation. Betsy was trying to pull her down, but Helen kept kicking at her until she backed away.

“Oh, Lord,” Gilda said, looking concerned.

“Should we try and stop her or just take pictures?” Zadie asked.

“I guess as long as she’s not doing that with a real man, we’re still in the zone of acceptable behavior. Not respectable, but acceptable,” Gilda said, frowning.

Helen was having a hard time holding on to her beer
and
Hans
and
the bull. As she started to slide to the left, a group of guys rushed to set her back on top.

“She has a fan club,” Gilda noted.

“She always has,” Zadie said. “Did the guys just trail after her in college?”

“There was lots of crying, put it that way. And not from her.”

“Grey was blinded the moment he saw her.”

Zadie remembered the moment well. They were sitting in the church at Denise’s wedding. Fifth row from the front. Helen was the maid of honor, last one down the aisle before the bride. Grey’s whole body had stiffened when he caught sight of her. He’d grabbed Zadie’s hand and, without dragging his eyes away from Helen, asked, “Who’s
that
?” From that moment on, he was smitten. Everything Helen did or said convinced Grey that he’d met the woman of his dreams. And six months later, Zadie was standing in a loud bar watching Helen publicly hump a blow-up doll on the back of a fake bull in celebration of her pending nuptials. Love was grand.

“Oh, my God. Don’t turn around.” Gilda was gazing over Zadie’s shoulder and making a pained face, which of course caused Zadie to turn around. An action she immediately regretted. Eloise was making out with the guy with the weird sideburns. She had her hands on each side of his face, actually making contact with the greasy stripes of hair that went all the way down to his chin. He was probably ten years younger than Eloise, and most certainly blind drunk if he was willing to be seen making out with her in public.

Gilda shook her head. “I don’t understand why men would even talk to her, let alone kiss her. Not that he’s any prize, but still. If he had any sense, he’d be over here hitting on you.”

“Not my type,” Zadie said.

“Well, of course he’s not. He’s probably retarded. I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t be at least
trying
to hit on you, as opposed to making out with
her
.”

“I don’t think I give out the hit-on-me vibe anymore. I get the occasional smile, but I can’t remember the last time a guy actually tried to make a move on me.”

“Well, you’re gorgeous, so you must be sending out a pretty strong stay-away vibe if you’re not getting hit on.” Gorgeous? Hardly. Zadie knew somewhere in the back of her numbed and bitter brain that she was attractive, but “gorgeous” was taking it a
bit far. Maybe she’d be considered gorgeous in some Nebraska farm town, population 150, but not in L.A.

“The fact that I cringe and look away when I catch their eye probably does something to damage my chances. But I’m just not all that anxious to talk to men at this point.”

“Okay, this is gonna sound really stupid,” Gilda said, “but I’m drunk, so forgive me. You know how after 9/11 if you didn’t go on vacation and stuff they said you’re letting the terrorists win? Well, if you don’t start dating again, you’re letting Jack win.”

Zadie thought about this. It was certainly an alcohol-fueled analogy, which often tend to be the most profound, but regardless, she didn’t feel it applied. “It’s not really a matter of letting Jack win, it’s just making sure I don’t lose again.”

Gilda sighed. “Okay, I get that. I really do. But there isn’t
anyone
? Not even a crush at the gym? Or some guy you saw at the grocery store? You have to have thought about
some
guy in the past seven months.”

Of course there was someone. But how could Zadie possibly tell this lovely and normal woman that she wanted to fuck an eighteen-year-old?

Jane appeared with a tray of tequila shots. “Drink up.” Zadie and Gilda took their shots and downed them as Jane moved on to Eloise and her hillbilly. “Hey Ya” was blasting out of the speakers, making the bar vibrate. Zadie was starting to feel the pleasant edge of drunkenness.

“Okay, there is a guy. But he doesn’t count because it will never happen and it’s just a fantasy”

“Who is he?”

“One of my students.”

Gilda screeched with delight and grabbed two more shots from Jane’s tray as she passed by again. “And I thought Jane was the kinky one.”

“He’s eighteen, so he’s legal. I’m not a pedophile.”

“I’m not here to judge.” She handed Zadie her shot and they both downed them.

“Remember the Gap ad that Eloise and Snotty were drooling over on the way into the Sky Bar?” Zadie asked. “That’s him.”

“Oh, honey, I am with you on that.” They clinked their empty shot glasses. “He is unbelievable. You get to look at him every day?”

“I keep his Abercrombie catalog on my nightstand. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No, it makes you a normal, healthy, horny woman. Anyone who looks at that kid and doesn’t want to screw him is either dead or a lesbian.”

“His band is playing tonight. He invited me. He invited all of us actually,” Zadie said.

“Where?”

“Somewhere on the Strip. The Roxy, I think.” She’d seen the band name on the marquee when they passed it earlier, but she was trying to play it cool.

“We should go!” Gilda was practically jumping up and down.

“Really? You don’t think it’s a terrible, terrible idea?” Zadie couldn’t even picture what she would do when she saw Trevor onstage. She certainly wouldn’t dance. She couldn’t possibly stand in the front row with the groupies. But maybe she could hide in the back and let his beauty bathe her eyes while retaining her anonymity.

“Well, we can’t hang around here and watch Eloise molest ugly men any longer. And Helen’s—Oh shit.”

They looked up to find Helen now riding the bull along with a very aggressive fraternity boy. Hans was lying on the floor, a few beers spilled on him, slightly deflated by the whole sordid affair. Helen, however, was quite demonstrative in her grinding of the Pi Kappa Phi she was riding with, and he was certainly enjoying her attention. They weren’t kissing, but he was in the midst of unbuttoning her blouse.

Zadie looked for whoever was closest to Helen. “Jane!” She pointed at Helen.

Jane turned, dragging her attention away from the cute guy
whose ass Helen had bitten to see her on the bull. She looked back at Zadie, calling out, “I’m on it.”

Jane marched over to the bull and dragged the Pi Kap off, causing him to fall on Hans and deflate him even more. Then Jane gently pulled Helen off and maneuvered her over toward the bar, just as Zadie and Gilda reached them.

“What? I was just riding the bull.”

“Where the hell was Betsy when that was going on?” Zadie asked. Gilda pointed her out, sitting in a chair against the wall with her arms and legs crossed, scowling at them all. When she saw Zadie waving her over, she got up and stomped toward them.

“Well, I’m glad someone finally took notice of the bachelorette besides me. I tried to stop her from engaging in a public sex show, but she kicked me.”

“I didn’t kick you.”

“You did, too!”

Marci and Kim wandered up. Yawning. “Are we leaving?”

“I certainly hope so,” Betsy said.

Denise walked out of the bathroom, spotting them. “What’s going on?”

“Your sister has lost her mind and is trying to have sex with strange men. This is not what was supposed to happen today,” Betsy said.

“Betsy, if I were trying to have sex with someone, I think I’d accomplish my goal,” Helen said, with all the superiority that someone as drunk as she was is wont to convey.

Snotty and Skinny appeared. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Helen answered.

“Good, because that guy just asked me if he could take me shopping. I love Persian men!” Skinny said.

“Well, give him your number, because we’re leaving,” Gilda said.

“Where’re we going?” Eloise asked, as she made her way over, oblivious. Leaving Sideburns to pine for her at the bar.

Gilda smiled at Zadie. “The Roxy.”

BOOK: The Bachelorette Party

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