“Three won’t kill me, will it? I’m a bachelorette. I’m supposed to get wild.” She shook her hair and did a little shimmy. Grey would’ve been proud, Zadie thought.
“Please tell me we have plenty of film,” Denise said, delighted with this turn of events. Marci snapped another picture as Helen gave her a saucy pose.
Jane clinked glasses with Helen. “I think I like this new side of Helen.”
“Me, too,” Zadie said. She actually did. Tipsy Helen was a hoot. She looked at the others. “I’ve never seen Helen drunk.” They all laughed and drank. Gilda was a little slower on the draw than the others, but she swigged one down.
Betsy had the puss on her face again. “If we’re going to play this game, let’s find out some real dirt. I’ve never—slept with Grey”
Everyone stared at her, appalled.
“If you had, I think we’d have to kick your ass,” Gilda said.
Betsy stared at Zadie. “I’m just trying to find out if anyone else here has.”
Zadie set down her margarita. “Are you kidding me?”
“Well, he’s your ‘best friend.’ Does that include benefits?”
Jane shook her head. “Betsy, you are such an ass. Don’t even answer her, Zadie.”
“I agree,” Denise said, changing the subject. “I never had sex in a bathroom stall.”
“Actually—I’d like for Zadie to answer that,” Helen said.
They all stared at her. Zadie included, now fully realizing what the word “agog” meant. “You think I’ve slept with Grey?”
“No, actually, I don’t, but I figure as long as the question is out there, I should confirm it. Have you?”
“God, no!”
Helen stiffened. “Why? Is he that unappealing to you?”
Zadie couldn’t believe she was enduring this conversation. So much for Helen being a hoot. “Let me get this straight. You’re
disappointed
that I haven’t slept with him?”
“No, I’m just a little offended by the fact that you act like he’s so beneath you.”
Zadie stared at Helen. Trying to convince herself that it was just the alcohol that had inspired this psychotic break. “Helen, I find Grey perfectly wonderful. He’s not beneath me, nor have I ever been beneath him. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She gulped down the rest of her wine and looked around for the waitress. “Where’s the bitch in the bikini top? I need another glass of wine.”
As Zadie tried to decompress from being accused of screwing Grey, the ruddy-faced bourbon guy walked up to the group.
“Ladies, do you mind if I introduce myself?” His accent was distinctly Southern and his khaki pants could have used an iron. “Or should we keep our romance on a no-names basis?”
Marci and Kim giggled, clearly out of practice at being the recipient of cheesy bar lines. Snotty and Skinny rolled their eyes, clearly not out of practice.
Helen gave him a big smile. “I’m Helen. I’m the bachelorette.”
The guy did a double take and put the back of his hand to his forehead like a damsel in distress. “Tell me it’s not true!”
“Sorry.” Helen giggled.
“Well, let me introduce myself anyway. In case you change your mind.” He gave her a wink, finding himself incredibly suave. “I’m Jim James. My buddies and I are here on business from Atlanta. We were hoping that you ladies might want to have a night on the town with us.”
Betsy rushed to shoot him down. “We’re going to the Ivy for dinner. It’s a girls’ night only.”
“Well, that’s a shame. I’ve got six friends over there just raring to spend some time with you gals.” The six friends waved on cue. They weren’t hideous, but they weren’t exactly
appealing. Jimbo was by far the best of the bunch.
“Why don’t you guys move over here and join us?” Helen asked, receiving dagger looks from Betsy, Snotty, and Skinny. Clearly Jimbo and his pals weren’t up to their high standards.
Zadie smiled at Jimbo. “That’s a great idea. You can slide some chairs over here and we’ll make a little party out of it.” Anything to piss off Betsy and Skinny in one fell swoop. Snotty was just a bonus.
“Well, that’s a fine idea. Let me go get those rascals and I’ll be right back.” He walked over to his friends, relaying the invitation. They tapped out their cigars and picked up their steamer chairs.
The women dive-bombed Helen and Zadie with their protests. “Why did you invite them over? Now we’ll have to talk to them!” Betsy whined.
“Oh, relax, Betsy, I’m just having fun,” Helen said.
“I wonder what Grey would have to say about that,” Eloise said.
Zadie rolled her eyes. “We’re sitting in a public place, and everyone is fully clothed. I doubt he’d have a problem with it, Eloise. Why don’t you just have another drink and talk to one of these guys and maybe you can end the night with another videotape in your collection.”
Before Eloise could retort, Snotty leaned forward to whine. “But they’re cheesy! They’re not even
from
here.”
“Don’t be such a goddamn snob,” Helen said. All of the women turned to look at her. Had she really just cursed? “We’ll have a couple drinks with them and then we’ll go to dinner. Quit your bitching. It’s my party.”
Zadie couldn’t help it. She laughed. Aside from the whole “have you slept with Grey?” moment, it seemed that alcohol made Helen into someone she could actually hang out with.
Denise’s mouth hung open. She stared at Helen. “Who
are
you?” Helen smiled and held up her glass as the guys carried their chairs over. “I’m the bachelorette.”
After introductions and the purchase of another round, conversations were flying. It seemed these gentleman sold vinyl flooring.
A fascinating topic. Thankfully, they were aware of how boring their chosen field was in terms of bar chatter, and they moved on to such subjects as why the South is the best place in the world, how much beef they could consume in one sitting, and the fact that bourbon was the only true drink.
As much as Zadie would’ve liked to have kept these men around all night in order to piss off the bitch contingent, she found herself completely bored by their company. Her partner in conversation was a man named Billy and he insisted on rubbing her feet as they talked. One of the drawbacks to sitting on a giant mattress.
“So, what’s on the agenda for you ladies tonight? Because if you need a stripper, I think I can oblige you.” He leered at her as he caressed her instep.
The thought of seeing Billy strip off his button-down shirt and khakis was about as appealing as the offer he’d made earlier to give her feet a tongue bath. She’d laughed it off, but the more he rubbed her feet, the more apparent it became that he was dead serious.
Jane was fending off a charmer named Bobby, who swore he’d flown on one of her flights before and that she’d given him extra peanuts. Gilda was saddled with a full-on redneck who kept asking her to throw ice cubes for him to catch in his mouth. Betsy, Eloise, Snotty, and Skinny were hunkered in the corner talking about how evil Zadie was for encouraging Helen, and Marci and Kim were enthralled by Buddy, who could discuss diaper horror stories with the best of them. Denise was in the bathroom throwing up.
Helen, meanwhile, was officially drunk and talking to Jimbo, who was taking full advantage of her inebriation.
“Something tells me you’re not ready to get married yet, Miss Helen.” He touched the end of her nose with his finger and she giggled.
“Yes I am. I’ve always wanted to be a bride.” She was about a second away from slurring.
“But are you ready to become a wife?” he asked.
“Of course. I love him.”
“But, darlin’, I think with a couple more drinks, you could love me more. How do you know it wasn’t fate that we met tonight?”
“Because if it was fate, I wouldn’t be getting married in two days.”
“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” He put his hand on her thigh. She didn’t take it away.
Zadie looked over, breaking away from Billy’s fascinating story about the time he fell off his horse, and noted with alarm that Helen had not yet removed Jimbo’s hand. She seemed mesmerized by his drawl and his big chocolate-brown puppy eyes. Uh-oh. Zadie looked around for backup. Jane was dodging Bobby as he nuzzled her neck. Gilda was holding up her wedding band to fend off her amorous redneck. And Bitches Inc. were still huddled in their corner. Kim and Marci had joined them, growing tired of Buddy’s excrement tales.
Billy was coming to the climax of his story. Something about a snake on the trail and the horse bucking. Zadie tried to make the appropriate “Oh, no!” face and nod attentively but when she looked back at Helen, she could’ve sworn she saw Helen’s hand graze Jimbo’s crotch. Oh, dear God. Grey had instructed her to get Helen to loosen up. Not to get Helen to give hand jobs to strangers.
“I think we should go.” Zadie stood up.
Helen looked up, completely nonchalant. “What’s the hurry?”
Gilda was in synch with Zadie. “We should probably go eat.”
Jane pushed Bobby away and stood up. “I’m ready.”
The bitches and the mommies were more than ready to go. “It’s about time,” Betsy said. “We’re already late for our reservation.”
Helen looked up at them. “Screw the Ivy. I want some meat.”
They didn’t have a reservation at the Palm, but they decided to try it anyway. It was an unassuming little restaurant on Santa Monica Boulevard in a beige building with green awnings. Inside, the walls were covered in celebrity caricatures and the tables were manned by waiters who had been there for decades. Jimbo told them the Palm had the best steaks in town.
When they walked in, Helen made a beeline for an empty table, without even consulting the maître d’. Once he saw how drunk she was, he decided to let them stay at the table, rather than risk a scene. He retreated in horror when Helen slapped his butt as he walked away.
When the waiter came over, Helen announced, “I think I need a martini.”
Betsy immediately became alarmed. “Are you sure? I think you’ve had enough.”
Helen fixed Betsy with an evil stare. “Betsy, if you tell me I’ve had enough one more time, I’m going to tell everyone you had liposuction.”
The table went silent. Betsy blushed so deeply they could almost hear it and looked down at her place setting. “It was only on my upper arms.” She pulled her cardigan tighter around her and sulked until Snotty told her she looked toned.
When the drinks came, Gilda held up her glass in toast, trying to keep the peace. “I say we all just relax and have some fun. Now that we’ve ditched the Atlanta boys, we can get back to girl talk.”
Marci pulled a teabag out of her purse and dipped it into a cup of hot water. “Can you believe Buddy has five kids?”
“They probably all have five kids,” Eloise said. “It disgusts me when married men try to get laid when they’re out of town on business.” In truth, Eloise was just angry because none of them had hit on her. Weird haircuts and severe glasses don’t fly down South apparently.
“They were definitely looking for some action,” Jane agreed.
“I can’t believe that Jim guy had his hands all over you, Helen. I was ready to call security,” Eloise said, in a way that was highly accusatory. Helen didn’t acknowledge it. She was too busy sucking her olive off the little plastic sword in a completely lewd display for the busboy who was watching from the side of the room. He smiled at her and adjusted himself.
Betsy caught sight of it. “Helen! What’s gotten into you?”
“Well, we know it’s not Grey.” She slapped her hands down on the table and looked at them all. “Can you believe we’ve never fucked?”
Again, silence. Then a barrage of “Oh, my God!”, “Where did that potty mouth come from?”, and “I’ve never seen you like this.” And the now-familiar refrain “I don’t think you should have any more to drink.”
But Helen was not to be slowed down. She sipped her martini and continued on her rant. “I bet if the guys in this restaurant knew I was a virgin, they’d be all over me.”
Betsy looked concerned. “You’re not planning on telling them, are you?”
“I would certainly hope not,” Eloise said. “Why would you want to encourage their attention?”
Helen looked at the fifty-something man in a sport coat at the table next to them. He was having dessert with his Botox’d wife. She leaned over and tapped him on the arm. “Ever had a virgin?”
They looked back at her with horror.
Helen proceeded to suck another olive off her plastic sword. “Want one?”
As the women were escorted out of the Palm by the manager, Helen kept shouting, “I was
kidding!
Hello! Do you really think I would screw that guy?” The other women dragged her into the limo. At one point, Betsy’s hand was clamped firmly over Helen’s mouth.
Zadie stayed behind and apologized profusely to the couple Helen had propositioned. “She’s not usually like this. She’s getting married in two days. The stress of that alone would make anyone snap. I’m so, so sorry.” The couple wasn’t buying it. Apparently, having your anniversary dinner interrupted by a slutty virgin was not what they were expecting from their dining experience at the Palm.
When they got back on the road, Helen had the driver stop and get some champagne. She also had him open the top so she could stand up as they drove down Sunset. “Look! Everyone can see me now!” She took a swig of champagne straight from the bottle and then waved to some high school kids in the next lane who were cruising in their daddy’s car.
“She’s completely lost it,” Kim said.
“Can we please go to the Ivy now?” Betsy asked, desperate to get them back on track.
Marci looked worried. “Isn’t the Ivy kind of sedate? I don’t know if I can handle getting thrown out of two nice restaurants in one night. Maybe we should just go to a drive-thru.”
“In-N-Out Burger sounds good to me,” Denise said. She tugged on the hem of Helen’s miniskirt and shouted up through the moonroof. “Helen, you up for some burgers?”
“I think we should take her back to the hotel and put her in bed,” Eloise said.
Zadie was confused. “Hotel?”
“We’re staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel for the whole weekend.
We got a discount because the wedding is being held there,” Betsy said.
“I think the hotel might be the best idea,” Gilda agreed.
Helen pulled herself back through the moonroof and sat down with a look of determination. “You know where we need to go? The Hustler store.”
“Why?” Betsy whined. “They sell porn there. And it’s owned by Larry Flynt. The man’s a deviant.”
“Grey’s waited six months to sleep with me. I need to give him an amazing wedding night. They have sex toys there, right?”
“Lots of them,” Jane answered.
“Then let’s go! I need some sex toys!”
Eloise got into the spirit of this suggestion. “I hear they have cock rings. They completely heighten his experience, you know.”
Zadie was repulsed. Did Eloise not realize she was talking about her
brother
? Even she felt uncomfortable picturing Grey in a cock ring, but apparently Eloise had no problem with it whatsoever.
“I could use some new lube,” Snotty said.
Eloise looked at her. “Dry twat?”
Skinny elbowed Snotty. “That’s not where she uses it … .”
While Zadie tried to erase the knowledge that Snotty liked to butt-fuck, Helen crawled over them all to bang on the window separating them from the driver.
“We need some cock rings. Turn here.”