Match This! (The UnSocial Dater#1) (20 page)

I do up the dishes and then look at the magazines scattered around the break room table. There is a coloring book amongst the bike and bitch magazines the boys leave lying around. I will safely assume when they spend more than five minutes in the bathroom with a magazine they’re pumping the pud and getting off to either one of them. Men and their toys.

I pick it up and shake my head.

“’Sup boss lady?” I look back as Zack walks in the break room.

I look at the clock. “You’re early.”

“I’m trying to impress my new boss lady.”

“Call me that again and I’ll cut you.”

“It’s true,” he laughs.

“Nothing’s changed,” I say and then look around. “Except if you assholes don’t start picking up after yourselves you’re out.”

“Ricco thinks it gives you something to look forward to,” he smirks.

“Is that so?”

“You gonna fire him?” Zack asks as he follows me out of the break room and down the hall.

“Can’t.”

“He grandfathered in?”

“Something like that.”

The shop is busy, lots of walk-in piercings today, all tits, and belly buttons. I give them to the boys.

Sitting at reception, I thumb through my phone.

That damn app is like a beacon of light to the bored soul.

I click on it.

Tonight’s Date
pops up in the messenger and I hit it.

@ribbed4her.

You have got to be kidding me. I’m gonna kill Macey.

@ribbed4her: hey there. I am going to be running behind by about ten minutes. Order a steak or something expensive to punish me if you want, just promise you’ll show up.

Kat:How late?

@ribbed4her: Ten minutes tops.

Kat:Why not cancel?

I don’t want to do this shit anyway, I think to myself.

@ribbed4her: Don’t be like that. Give a guy a chance.

Kat:A chance for what?

@ribbed4her: a chance to get to know you.

Kat:I’m really not that interesting

@ribbed4her: gotta sign off, fucking eyes everywhere, see you at 9:10.

Kat:9:10?!?

He doesn’t answer.

I scroll through to see if
rider
has messaged, he hasn’t.

I read through last night’s messages and decide he’s pissed that I got laid.

Kat: Are you pissed that I said I got laid?

Sent and regret it immediately. As I wait for a response I get an almost sick feeling in my stomach.

@rider1: You do you.

Kat: I was fucking with you.

@rider1: Cool with me.

Kat: Apparently not.

Again sent and regret.

@rider1: I haven’t asked you out, so yeah it’s fucking cool.

Kat: I wouldn’t go If you did.

@rider1: Riiiiight.

Kat: It’s the truth.

@rider1: Don’t sweat it babe. I’m not interested in being played.

Kat: I’m a player?

@rider1: Two guys in a day posting shit about you? Says player to me.

Kat: Then why keep messaging?

@rider1: I didn’t today. That was all you.

Kat: Won’t happen again.

@rider1: Yeah it will.

Kat: Fuck you.

@rider1: When you’re ready I’ll consider.

Kat: When I’m ready? Pffttt.

@rider1: Any man asking u out right now wants a quick easy piece of ass.

At this point I should tell him to go fuck himself, but I’m bored.

Kat: Nothing wrong with uncomplicated

@rider1: No but fact is that’s not what you want.

I look at his profile, it’s still blank.

Kat: You hide behind an empty profile and think you know me

@rider1: I’m an open book

Kat: I’m not interested in reading your book

@rider1: Then why ask?

Kat: I didn’t ask. I pointed out. I’m not hiding shit.

@rider1: So you’re the head unicorn at Acme glitter bomb factory?

Kat: What the hell are you talking about.

@rider1: Your profile.

I quickly click on my profile and read.

RELATIONSHIP:

Unmarried

HAVE KIDS?

No

WANT KIDS?

Maybe

ETHNICITY:

Caucasian

BODY TYPE:

Sexy

HEIGHT:

5’6”

FAITH:

Christian

SMOKE?

No

DRINK:

Occasionally

AGE

25

SEEKING MEN:

20-40

AREA:

Wildwood

ABOUT ME:

Head unicorn at Acme Glitter Bomb factory who loves her job and lots of color.

CHARACTER:

I have my own place and desire a man who has his life in order.

I am very loyal and love my family and friends.

WHAT NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME SMILE:

Coffee and conversation.

A good movie and live music.

I AM:

Successful, driven, and love art.

Oh hell no. I immediately send Macey a text.

Kat: Are you trying to ruin my life?!

Mace: No right now I am strictly focused on ruining mine.

Kat: Who fucked with my profile on Match Up?

It takes her far too long to reply.

Kat: Mace, I’m fucking serious.

Mace: It was a collaborative effort and all with your best interest at heart.

Kat: I’m going to shank you.

Mace: I’ve heard that before.

Kat: This time I’m serious.

“You okay?” Zack asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What do you want?”

I try to push a design magazine over my phone and he looks at it.

His jaw drops and he bites his lower lip and makes a sound like he’s in pain trying not to laugh.

“What?” I snap.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he winks.

“Stop. Fucking. Winking at me,” I shout.

“Kat, it’s all good but if I get drunk and contact you for a hook-up don’t get pissed.”

“I’m not looking for a hook-up,” I say pushing up from the desk chair.

“Shit, you’re looking for the real deal? Marriage, kids, and—” He stops talking because my hand is palming his face.

“Shut. Up.” He laughs out loud and I glare at him. “I’m serious.”

“Fine, but seriously what are you doing on that site?” he asks prying my hand off his face.

“Trying to appease my mother. And Zack, that’s the end of this conversation.”

“Just so you know, it’s a damn booty call site. Half of the people are married, some will tell you up front, others won’t. Scary shit. You need a wing man, you got one.”

“All set thank you.”

He turns around and walks towards his room. “I’m serious, Kat. Bunch of assholes out there.”

As soon as he’s out of sight I go to work on my profile.

RELATIONSHIP:

It’s me and plastic

HAVE KIDS?

Fuck NOOOOOO

WANT KIDS?

Fuck NOOOOOO

ETHNICITY:

Caucasian

BODY TYPE:

Average

HEIGHT:

5’6”

FAITH:

Witch doctor

SMOKE?

Just Meth

DRINK:

24/7

AGE:

25

SEEKING MEN:

22 - 26

AREA:

Antarctica

ABOUT ME:

I’m a whore, you don’t pay, you don’t get laid.

CHARACTER:

See above

WHAT NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME SMILE:

Dick, big able dick, an orgasm and a ‘date’ ending with a Benjamin on the sleazy roach infested motel nightstand.

I AM:

Easy but not cheap.

@rider1: Very funny profile. You’re asking for trouble.

Kat: Good. Trouble is my middle name.

@rider1: Someone needs to spank that ass.

Kat: Bigger men have tried.

@rider1: I wasn’t insinuating I was interested.

Kat: Lie to your parents not to me.

@rider1: When you’re done acting like a sassy little shit and want a real man I might be interested.

Kat: Dude I’m not, so fuck off.

I look up and Ricco is walking in. I give him a dirty look, he shakes his head.

“It was a bad night, Kat. Can’t change it, don’t make me feel like shit about it. Sorry was said, and was in earnest. Nothing else I can do.”

I nod.

“You don’t have anything on the schedule, head out.”

“I’m on until five.”

“I was late yesterday, one hand washes the other,” he says grabbing his schedule book. He grabs a seat and pulls it up to the desk and sits down.

I don’t understand the mood he’s in. It’s not Ricco. Then it hits me.

“Are you upset that you’re not the father to that bitch and her sister’s kid?”

He shakes his head.

“Oh, my gawd, you are.”

“Not that you would understand. You’ve made it abundantly clear you’re not motherhood bound, but the kids were four weeks old. May not have spent a whole lot of time with them, but have been providing for them since the women got pregnant.”

“So you feel stupid?”

“No, Kat, I don’t feel stupid. I’m a man, I fucked them, the kids could have been mine. Why the fuck would I feel stupid about taking care of my responsibilities?”

“Responsibilities are overrated. Hell, you should be celebrating.”

He shakes his head no. “Should, but how do you do that when you wonder what will become of them?”

Before I can answer he stands up. “Have a good one.”

I watch him walk away knowing there isn’t shit that I can say that would be heart felt. Inside my head I’m screaming ‘Run Forrest run,’ and singing
Papa Don’t Preach
. I have no advice to give anyone.

Nonsense.

I look down at my phone.

A message

@rider1: Done. Be safe.

Good.

I don’t leave for the day. I sit and wait for the clock to strike five pm.

At four thirty I am in the breakroom when I hear the door chime. Nothing to be alarmed by, but then I hear voices, a lot of voices, all male.

I lean out and see about twelve young men all wearing ball caps and baseball pants.

I hear state championship. I hear bro bonding. I hear all the shit ink virgins say when they walk in here for the first time. Young men, first timers, are almost as much little bitches as middle-aged women, first timers and I plan to ignore it.

I’m sitting with my back to the door when I hear Marcus. “Kat, I know you’re out soon but there are a dozen idiot kids out here and we could use some help with the paperwork, and you know, three each would be a fuck of a lot quicker than four."

“What do they want?” I ask as I continue flipping through the design magazine.

“Ricco’s doing the sketch, they all want the same thing. A baseball with their numbers on it and get this shit, I Got Big Balls, written under each.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s fucking stupid. Aren’t one of you trying to sway them a different direction?”

“Nah, they’re stoked.”

“Where?”

“Hips.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, what are they twelve?” I stand up.

“No, but they’re not opposed to three fifty each.”

“Because it’s their parents’ money,” I grumble as I walk out the door.

“Yeah, I say let’s go take it.”

I sit at the desk taking ID after ID, making a copy, then looking at the guy who produced it making sure it’s in fact him. I reach up and hold my hand out for an ID without looking. The kid puts it in my hand. I hand him the consent form and turn to make a copy of his ID.

“You sure man?” I hear one of them whisper.

“Yep.” Another says.

“Fucking hot. You better seal the deal tonight or I will.”

“Plan on it.”

I roll my eyes at the conversation and grab the copy of his ID off the tray, then take the ID out of the printer and turn around.

I look at the picture and then look up.

It takes me a minute, well, actually just the incessant blinking of his eyes, to realize that this is Peter. I look at his ID and sure enough it says Peter.

He smirks and his eyes continue blinking.

“Hey Kat.”

Holy shit, holy fucking shit.

“Is this your ID?” I ask almost too loudly.

He nods. “Look older, don’t I?”

“You little son of a bitch,” I hiss and then look around to make sure no one heard me.

“I act older too.”

“Don’t.” I hold up my hand. “Don’t speak.”

I stand up and wave for him to come with me.

I hear an
oooo
and turn around to shoot daggers at the little fucker who clearly knows.

I walk into my room and look at him. “You lying little fucker.” Then I slam the door shut. “I should kick your ass.”

“You never asked my age.”

He steps towards me and I shove him back. I push hard enough that his back hits the door.

“What the hell?” he says looking confused.

“Drop the pants and lay the fuck down.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he says blinking like a mad man.

One knock and the door opens.

“Everything okay in here?” It’s Ricco.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” I immediately know I sound nervous. He cocks his head and then looks at Peter.

“Boxers can stay little man,” he says to him.

I look over and Peter is covering his junk, bending down and putting on his boxers.

“I thought,” he says pulling his boxers up.

“You thought wrong,” Ricco says and turns back to me. “You good?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

He nods once and walks out.

I kick the door shut behind him and turn to Peter.

“You have some nerve-”

“Seriously Kat, I’m nineteen you’re twenty-five. It’s not a big damn deal.”

I push him again. “Sit down and shut the hell up.” Once he sits I shove him back so he’s lying down.

I turn around and open my drawer, I pull out the biggest needle I can find, a sixteen gauge that we use to pierce dicks and turn back towards him.

He looks at it and the shit ass grin disappears. “Hold up, you aren’t using that thing are you?”

“Sure am.” I pull my seat over with my foot. “And it’s gonna fucking hurt.”

He starts to sit up. “I’m not sure-”

“Permission slip is already signed, too late,” I say pulling the waistband to his boxers down a bit. I grab my rolling tower of drawers and pull them closer, I grab an alcohol wipe and the area clean.

I look up and he is just about green. “You chose this. I didn’t choose to go on a date with a high schooler.”