LatinosUSA

“I can take you where you want to go,” he told her confidentially.

Lucille stared down her prominent nose at the short man in the wildly out-of-place fedora. What, she wondered, was this bloke’s story? But she didn’t wonder too hard.

The once-heavy crowd in the tavern was thinning out, and the only decent men were already picked up the cute girls, and they disappeared into the cool December night. Leaving the sorta cute girls like Lucille with what remained. She looked again at the man who spoke. His features were backlit by the small Christmas tree and the tinsel along the backbar.

“I beg your pardon?” she said. She narrowed her green eyes, easily Lucille’s best feature, at him.

“I said,” he reiterated, “that I can take you where you want to go.”

“What are you, she asked cockily, “an Uber driver?”

The little man frowned unhappily. “No,” he replied. “I’ve had my eye on you most of the night.”

Now it was Lucille’s turn to frown. “Why?” she asked bluntly.

“So I could take you…”

“Where I want to go,” she finished his sentence for him.

“Right on, sweet cheeks,” he said, smiling now.

“Look, I gotta get out of here,” she slurred, stumbling a little. She glanced at the clock. It was 1:30 am.

“At least let me give you a ride home,” said the little man. “My name is Doug,” he said.

“Good for you,” said Lucille. “And I’m not riding with you. I don’t know you.”

“Lemme buy you a beer, we can talk, and then you’ll know me,” suggested Doug.

Lucille rolled her eyes and shook her head no.

“Lookit,” said Doug, “you’re too loaded to drive yourself. If you won’t take a ride from me, then at least call a taxi.”

Lucille looked at him with new eyes. He seemed sincere, seemed to really care. “Well,” she said, “I’ll take that beer after all. I’m Lucy,” she introduced herself.

“Doug grinned. They edged up to the bar, and he placed an order. Unseen by his companion, Doug turned up his cell phone, snapped a photo of Lucille, and texted, “I got a live one here tonight!!!”

Although Doug was a head shorter than Lucille and ten years older, she was surprised. They had absolutely nothing in common. Lucille was a buyer for a major department store, while Doug said that he was a refuse engineer.

“I’m a garbage man,” he confided.

Unconsciously, Lucille looked at Doug’s hands to see if he had dirt under his fingernails. When he sensed what she was doing, he explained. “I operate an automated side loader hydraulic arm from inside the refuse vehicle,” he told her.

“Oh,” said Lucille, a little embarrassed.

Doug texted, “She bought it!”

After the third beer, they began deciding how the evening would end. Doug was all for a night of wicked splendor, whereas Lucille thought that being poured into her living room by Doug at 3 am and left there, was more appealing.

Finally Lucille spoke up. “I think you should take me home now, Doug,” she said, slurring her words.

“Yes! The Doug-meister is gonna score tonight!” texted Doug. What he said was, “I’ll be happy to take you home, Lucy.”

When they got to Lucille’s apartment, Doug took her keys and opened the door. Lucille stumbled a step as she crossed the threshold.

“I…I think I need some help getting ready for bed,” murmured Lucille helplessly.

Snapping a photo with his cell phone, Doug texted his buddies: “Yes! I’m going to strip her naked and mount her from behind.” What he said to Lucille was, “I’ll help however I can, Lucy.” He chuckled to himself malevolently.

Next, Doug helped Lucille to the bathroom, where she vomited into the toilet. He wiped her face with a wet cloth, then helped her to her bedroom.

When Lucille was nude, she stumbled into bed, and Doug covered her up with the comforter.

“I’m sorry this night didn’t end the way you hoped, Doug,” said Lucille in a soft voice.

“All I wanted was for it to end with you safe at home in your bed, Lucy,” said Doug. He sighed heavily, then went to the door and let himself out.

“It was awesome,” texted Doug. “I came four times, and…”