lipstick

Simply 6 Minutes — A Girls’ Night Out

Fandango16 Comments

“Mommy, come see,” Alice grabbed her mother’s hand and started pulling Clara to her bedroom. Once they got there and Clara saw her youngest daughter, Adele, sitting at Clara’s makeup desk, looking up at her mother with her wide, doe eyes, Clara yelled out, “Alice, what have you done?

Alice got a hurt look on her face and tears started to well up in her eyes. “Mommy, I’m sorry,” she said. “You know how you sit at your makeup table and put on your lipstick when you go out for a night on the town. Well, I overheard you talking to Mrs. Winston from across the street earlier and you told her you were going on a girls’ night out tonight. I thought that meant you were going to take your two girls, me and Adele, out for a night on the town. So I found your lipstick and put in on Adele’s lips. Doesn’t she look beautiful? I was about ready to start putting some on me when I heard you come home.”

Clara started to laugh. “Yes, Alice, Adele looks great,” she said. “I’ll tell you what, sweetie, I’ll just take a minute to fine tune and shape up Adele’s lipstick and then I’ll help you put your own lipstick on. Then the three of us — you, Adele, and me — are, indeed, going out for a night on the town and we’re going to have the very best girls’ night out ever!”

Written for Christine Bialczak’s Simply 6 Minutes Challenge. Photo Courtesy of Hamsyah.

Float Like a Butterfly

Fandango9 Comments

CDFACB19-76BE-46F7-8302-D03B93AAA666“With that mouth of yours, you’re lucky someone hasn’t yet knocked that shit-eating grin off your face,” Jimmy said.

Ted was sitting at a piano in the bar playing a tune. “I’m too fast for that, my friend. As Muhammed Ali used to say, ‘I float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.’”

“You wish,” Jimmy said. “Putting you and Ali in the same sentence is like putting lipstick on a pig and calling it Julia Roberts.”

“Well, Julia Roberts has some pretty impressive lips,” Ted said, without halting his piano playing.

A couple of young men walked into the bar making a lot of noise and acting aggressively.

“Hey you two, tone it down a little will you please? I’m playing here.” Ted yelled at the new arrivals.

The two men walked over to Ted. One of them said, “Were you talking to us?” While Ted was looking at the man who addressed him, the other man smashed a fist into Ted’s face.

Ted fell onto the floor and Jimmy rushed over to assist him and called out to the bartender, “Call 9-1-1!”

At that, the two rambunctious men quickly fled the bar. “Float like a butterfly, huh?” Jimmy said to Ted.

“I was blindsided,” Ted complained.

“Yeah, well meanwhile that bruise on your cheek is swelling and turning a lovely verdant shade,” Jimmy said. “But don’t worry, Ted. I’ll just tell everyone that you got stung by a bee.”

Written for Paula Light’s Three Things Challenge, where the three things are “lipstick,” “piano,” and “butterfly.” Also for these daily prompts: The Daily Spur (mouth), Word of the Day Challenge (lucky), Your Daily Word Prompt (rambunctious), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (meanwhile), and Ragtag Daily Prompt (verdant).

Storytime — The First Time

Fandango7 Comments

Each Thursday I will ask you to tell a story about a specific topic. You can write about the actual event as it happened in real life, or you can create a fictional telling of that event. It’s your call. There are no rules. Your post can be as long or as short as you want. Prose, poetry, whatever.

Once you publish your post, create a pingback to this post, or paste a link to your post in a reply if you’re not on WordPress.

This week’s prompt:

Tell the story about what led up to the time you lost your virginity.

Write about how you ended up in the situation that resulted in losing your virginity. Please don’t give any graphic details about the act itself. Keep it PG-rated. If you’re still a virgin, well, maybe next time.

To get you started, here’s my story.

soda fountain

It happened during the summer between my junior and senior years of high school. My two best friends worked part-time at the local drugstore back in the day when drugstores had soda fountains. You could get hot dogs, sandwiches, ice cream sundaes, root beer floats, milkshakes, and coffee at the drugstore soda fountain.

I would periodically hang out at the counter with them when they were working the fountain and, because they were my best friends, they would often give me a free milkshake and hot dog.

One day, while I was sitting on a stool at the counter drinking my milkshake and chatting aimlessly with my pals, an attractive redhead walked into the drugstore, sat down at the other end of the counter, and ordered an ice cream soda.

After she got her soda, my buddies and I were huddled at the other end of the counter admiring the young lady. I saw her pull out a pencil from her purse and write something down on a napkin. Then she looked toward the three of us and asked, “Who wants my cherry?”

It was all the three of us could do to keep from going completely nuts. Egged on by my two friends, I sheepishly responded, “I do.”

She got up off her stool, walked over to where I was sitting, and put the cherry from her ice cream soda into my mouth, which was conveniently gaping open.

She handed me the napkin with the writing on it and, in a very matter of fact way, said, “Pick me up at 8 on Saturday night.” Then she turned around and sashayed her way out of the drugstore.

I looked at the napkin and saw, scratched out with what appeared to have been an eyebrow pencil, an address and phone number, along with the impression of her lipstick covered lips.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Now it’s your turn.