Someone Like You

Chapter 3 - Bar-X

"How was dance class today?" Sarah asked, while taking a sip of her Boston Sour.

"Zack is such a fucking shit-licking, cock-sucker," I said, raising my glass to toast him in absentia. "If he weren't, like, my most favorite human on earth, I would totally kick him to the curb. Fucking asshole got me all worked up today fondling my tits and shit during our dance class. And then he had the nerve to tell me that my pussy smelled funky, and that I needed to get laid," I said with a huff, taking a nice, big swallow of my Cuba Libre.

Unlike Sarah, I did not drink whisky.

"Do you know," Sarah said wistfully, "I think that he is the hottest guy I have ever seen in person, I mean, you know, like up close. It is such a bummer that he is so incredibly gay."

"I know, right? And he's totally well-endowed too. I felt him up today just to make sure his antics with my breasts weren't causing any tumescence in his pants. Fucker's dick was limper than an over cooked rice noodle. Seriously, you couldn't even suck water through that thing, thick as it was." I laughed, the effect of my first cocktail evidently loosening my tongue somewhat. "Oh, oh, oh, but that totally reminds me. I have got the BEST story to tell you about my most recent ER shift. You'll never guess what happened?!" I peered at Sarah across the table giving her a waggle of my eyebrows.

"Hmm. Let's see... Sam Heughan had a skiing accident, landed on his penis, broke it, and he came to you to fix his boo-boo?" She took another sip of her cocktail and smiled at me.

I bit my bottom lip with excitement, and waved my head, "No, but you're close with Sam Heughan... and a penis."

She almost did a spit take with her drink. "Fuck me, seriously? Ok, hmmm. You fixed a laceration, got blood all over your scrubs, you were changing in room 3, tripped over a stool, landing directly on Sam Heughan's crotch, which happened to be exposed because he got a mosquito bite on his inner thigh, and he needed you to put calamine lotion on it with your tongue?"

"Why would anyone come to the ER for a mosquito bite?" I asked, sardonically.

"He's a celebrity, they're totally fucking useless when it comes to shit like that. And it's not a mosquito bite, it was a tick, and he's worried that it's Lyme disease... Oh wait no, it was a snake bite and he wants you to suck the venom out, and while you're down there..."

She raised her glass to me as if to say, 'congrats on getting to suck venom out of Sam Heughan's groin.'

"Fuck yeah, I'll raise my glass to that!" We clinked glasses and each took a sip. "But no, sadly, it was not Sam Heughan, but probably the closest I'll ever get to him." I sighed heavily, remembering Andy Robertson, and his not-so-slight man zucchini. "Have you ever decompressed priapism before?" I asked, with a devilish grin and a laugh.

"No. Fucking. Way." She put her drink down and looked me right in the eyes. "Tell me everything. Go very slow. Leave out no details." She put her right hand on the table for a moment, then slowly lifted it and placed it beneath the table. She shut her eyes, leaned her head back slightly and said, "Ok, I'm ready, you may begin."

"Are you fucking touching yourself?" I asked, somewhat bemused by her evident readiness to self-pleasure herself in a booth at Bar-X.

"Like a weatherman, I am merely taking measurements to ascertain if it is going to be cold and dry, or if there is a chance for wetness." She opened her eyes and laughed loudly enough to get the attention of a couple of guys sitting at the bar, who had already been looking in our direction.

"Believe me," I said, "the forecast is for hot and wet Mama, so you can put your little weather hand-balloon back on the table. You said Zack is the hottest guy you've ever seen face-to-face, right? Well this guy has him beat. We're talking Hugh Jackman rising from the water tank, blades out in Wolverine. Actually, no, hotter. He was Brad Pitt in Troy. What am I talking about? He was totally hotter than that. We're talking Sam Heughan, naked, emerging from the river in the "Lallybroch" episode of Outlander. Seriously, I kid you not, we're talking Ryan Gosling, shirt off, about to lift up Emma Stone into the Dirty Dancing lift in Crazy. Stupid. Love. Sarah he was the hotness equivalent of David Beckham doing pretty much anything.