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Karma by Karen Lethlean - Page 3

Karen Lethlean

So I pushed it, just to check. Yes. Michelle hadn’t noticed yet because she was too stunned by my spitting atrocity. Hmm, I thought, this doesn’t look good. It’s three o’clock in the morning, I am completely naked, I have no money and the only person who can help me, just left a hand print across my jaw and now has spit running down her face. She still hasn’t noticed the door.

‘Fuck you, I’m going,’ she shouted and started to walk off.

‘Before you go, Michelle, let me apologize.’

She stops and looks back, still wiping her face, not yet succumbing to my charm, so I kept going, ‘It was a shitty thing to do, even if you did slap me in the face. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.’

She hasn’t walked away. Do it, I think, ask, after all, there’s no other choice… ‘Umm, Michelle, darling, can I borrow your phone please? I seem to have locked myself out.’

Selfishly, and with no thought for my feelings, she starts laughing, but I managed to win her round to the extent that she’ll let me use her phone to get a locksmith. About then I found out that many of these escape professionals don’t actually work 24 hours a day. When I finally do get through to one and am giving him the address, her phone credit runs out. At this point Michelle decided she’s not hanging around for my benefit any more and clears off – never to be seen again.

I usually don’t manage to see their on-line profiles again after having my wicked, and I mean that in a nice way, pleasure. There’s fun in them-there hills for the ladies too, bouncing up and down on this cow-poke’s ride. Maybe the Michelle, Marys and Betty-Sues take down their images, or maybe they just get invisible, to me at least; don’t know how, but even if I wanted to, I can’t seem to find them again.

Karma by Karen Lethlean - Page 3

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