Mike Manley swerves his yellow porsche into a ditch as the rain begins to fall.
Mike: huh. the weather report did not call for rain. a million dollars and no windshield wipers. but there is a cup-holder, where i place my phone.
Mike places a call then bungles the drop back to the cup-holder and his phone leaves the slit in the window and goes into a puddle and sinks forever.
Mike: this is what happens when all you do is think about sex. dam. well i'll go to the usual rendezvous and hope for the best.
Mike: why am i moving so slowly? it's like trudging through molasses. holy shit that water rose feet within minutes. street's a river. luckily my car has flippers. it transforms into a boat when needed. push of a button and there we go. streetlights are out. only light are intermittent flashes. just saw a generator float away. this ain't no storm. gotta get myself upstream. to a hill.
Mike: well this is proving more difficult. best i can do is any stream. any hill. i see a downslope. or is it the slope of a deer's nose. hold on, betsy, i named my cup-holder, this wreck is a raft and i hope those leaves down there are soft. i guess we're going downhill...
Mike: is everyone okay? i didn't hear a crash. i guess that's a good thing. i'm still massively horny. great, the door is broken, nice and easy. i left my weather phone in my other pants, these are my shagging pants. what's out yonder? the blue jacket has a hoodie but screw it. Taco Isle? fine. i love tacos. both meanings. it's always taco tuesday for me.
he makes his way over the collapsed bridge, through the slippery sign, and into the brick-and-mortar confines of the establishment. he pushes the ridged saloon door with the palm tree carving.
Mike: fancy taco stand you got here.
Maria: wow you're cute! i feel i should know you.
Mike: it only takes one night.
Maria: i'm too homely for you i'm sure.
Mike: a tad. but i'm already wet i don't care anymore. the rain has not cooled me down.
Maria: is it the glasses?
Mike: sure i'll take one. single malt whisky. actually make that a double malt whisky, i'm thirsty.
Maria: we only serve tequila from a parrot's beak. but there's a Starbucks after the motel.
Mike: i'm in need of a maltster to keep me from becoming a monster.
Maria: but you had a mother?
Mike: a hell of a one. what do you recommend?
Maria: what can i do for you? and please keep it about our clean menu.
Mike: oh. um, let's see. my vision is blurry. i'm not in the mood for something heavy and meaty. i like just the skin and bones.
Maria: our enchilada platter's 100 bucks.............who are you staring at?
Mike: that vision behind the counter behind the deep fryer.
Maria: wow, nobody notices that Maria. cos she's uglier than me. even though she's the one who actually prepares the food you slobs eat. you must really be hungry!
Mike: something has caught my eye. please turn around. i want to change my order. are you free later tonight?
Maria: ...but our salsas are free. what?
Mike: i'm loving this new trend in sex. girls wearing tight bluejeans and having their phones coming out of their butt pockets. it's the perfect way to call attention to their asses. all girls do this now. i'm getting hot. i would masturbate right here and now if i could.
Maria: knock yourself out. there's no one here. i've seen worse. they invented bermuda shorts for just this purpose.
Mike: oh. okay. well, now it's just weird. i'm staring cos you have a nice butt but i think the phone your butt is groping is nicer.
Maria: here. knock yourself out.
Mike: this is my phone! where'd you get this?
Maria: it washed up onshore when i took out the trash just now. it wasn't raining then.
Mike: doesn't work, though. waterproof my ass. at least it's not my work phone, that thing's a piece of shit. it's a wonder the company survives.
Maria: you have to connect it to a network. see? slide this slide.
Mike: thanks. still a tech newbie. can you show me how to send a text?
Mike: oh, there she is. send pickles? i gotta go.
Mike: wait. she's wanting the hot stuff.
Mike gathers four shallow plastic cups and fills each with a different level of hot at the salsa bar, green to red to orange to vomit color. and places a lime in another cup. and takes a tequila.
Mike: those are some cute spoons. what's the damage?
Maria: technically it's free. you just want the sauce?
Mike: wait! are those pickles i spy?!
Maria: sure. helps dull the pain.
Mike: i'll take two rotund glass bottles of your best pickles.
Maria: need a bag?
Mike: uh...no...i gotta go...i'll just carry one in each hand...
under the pouring rain
Mike: ...and try not to drop them into shards on the street. my grip is strong but these lids are thin. i feel my fingers locking into this vise shape permanently. where's that Starbucks!!? walking sucks!
at the Starbucks
Maria: you read my nameplate. it's the green apron, better background.
Mike: you work two jobs?
Maria: the economy sucks.
Mike: the economy will always been terrible. hey you got that coffee that tastes malty cos of all the almonds in it?
Maria: not our brand.
Mike: a malted? a St. Patrick's Day green coffee?
Maria: that's McDonald's. and even if we did it would only be for one day. which is really not cost-effective at all.
Mike: mermaid toast? come on, if there's anyplace in the world that would serve mermaid toast it's here. that's as hipster internet-trendy as they come. i saw your sign out front.
Maria: the mermaid doesn't have bare breasts anymore. censor shells.
Mike: i'll take any food you have. stuff it all into this weave basket i found lying in the corner here.
Mike spots a naked woman on the roof of the Blue Roof Inn next door.
Mike: and give me my room key now, i'll pay for everything later.
Maria: how'd you now?
Mike: i don't have time, woman! i gotta go. this place has a heavy air to it. an air of decadent desperation.
at the motel roof:
Mike: got the supplies.
Ari: food at Starbucks?
Mike: almost slipped on the ladder coming up and broke my crown.
Ari: i hope to come after.
Mike: if i tumble you right. or you're a good tumblrina. or something, it's late. sunbathing?
Ari: of course. you like the roof terrace here? preparing for you. sorry for the misdirection but i have to change locations or we become too predictable. i brought the dress.
Mike: my mother's blue dress? how'd you get it?
Ari: you gave it to me, remember?
Mike: sorry, i'm not in the mood for the roleplaying. can we just get to it?
Ari: after a quick soak.
Ari showers, using the sheer curtain so her beautiful black silhouette of her perfectly-shaped body stands out like moonlight against the surrounding neon lights. she can be seen for miles. Mike sees her on his way back from the parking lot.
and one other man sees her. Ari's husband, who stares at his wife hopelessly staying in the family stationwagon and keeping the blinders up. he clutches the stick-shift and slides his fingers up and down, rolling on the ball top.
Ari: wow! thank you, Spicy Spaghetti. i needed that. you screwed me downtight. i needed to get fucked, there's a lot of tension in the air with the blackout. gotta go where there's light. i'd smoke with you but my cigs are damp. this seems like a hurricane.
Mike: my favorite part was ripping my mother's blue dress off your back. no offense but the whole time i pretended i was fucking my mom. that's why my cum was extra saucy.
Ari: all we are are our fantasies. my favorite part was finally mastering the lotus crow. i loved how you bent my legs over like that during the anal.
Mike: isn't yoga verboten spirituality?
Ari: my body is a temple and these are all forms of exercise. oh i'm getting a tension headache.
Mike: yes it is. usually that comes before.
Ari: nothing in the drawer. except this ghastly 13 Moon Calendar.
Mike: they've really moved on from the Gideon bible. i have a hash calendar at home, very scientific. aspirin paracetamol caffeine.
Mike: Anadin. no manufactured medicines, remember?
Ari: oh shut up. coffee. did you get the coffee?
Mike: was i supposed to get coffee? best i can do for you, Siren, is a Tums Smoothie.
Mike locks fingers with Ari as the two look up at the ceiling backs flat on their separate beds.
Mike: you don't need to feel guilty. all we are are two animals.
back at home
sons: mommy! mommy! thanks for the food! we were hungry! what exactly is fairy bread anyway?
Ari: oh dear lord. just swallow it down and we'll pretend it comes from a unicorn, that's less worse.
sons: we love the sprinkles.
Ari: my future gay ravers. here, honey, look what mommy plucked out for you at a motel garden.
little girl: pretty flowers. what are they called?
little girl: yeah! candy!
Ari: don't eat it, could have hallucinogenic properties.
Ari: hi, dear. *kiss*
Ari: and look at this behind my back. wow i know. this is the light we were all searching for. it's called a christingle. it will shine on this family forever and keep us whole and holy.
sons and little girl: we love you, mommy! thanks for coming back! thank you for the food! we love you and kiss you sloppily and squeeze you and hug you tight.
Ari: oh my family. it's a pleasure. come in. *kiss* *hug* *squeeze* thank you for letting me be yours and thank the Dear Lord for letting you be mine.
little girl: mom, you're squeezing the cats too hard.
Ari: what the fuck?
husband: the cats started standing upright and sitting on our couches. they haven't gone to all fours since. they're locked in place.