Carllrac Presents

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A seemingly erotic short story 

By Carllrac   

Jenny Snelgrass had always loved grey SanFrancisco with its hip gluten-free pizza restaurants next to Non denominational places of worship and S&M shops.  It was a place where she felt comfortable, in a creepy yet vibrant way.  Jenny moved to the west coast from her native Minnesota, hoping to fulfill her dream working as an accountant for an Alcatraz tour group.  

She was a loveable, admirable, Spanish fly drinker with a wide jawline and sloppy lips.  She walked with the grace of a gazelle on bath salts.  Her friends saw her as a perfectly poised princess, who was very careful of her reputation. Once, she had even jumped into a river to renew her baptism and sued a man with a creepily small girth, wearing lycra speedos fishing on the far banks, nowhere near her.  That’s the sort of woman she was. Spontaneous and  unpredictable.  

Jenny walked over to the window of her second story Chinatown apartment, just above it’s only Mexican grocery store, and reflected on her vibrant surroundings.  The sun shone like staring voyeurs with flash on from their phones.  She walked back to the electric fireplace in her empty living room, and lit a candle for the music legend Prince, a spiritual tradition of good luck for people from The Minneapolis area. She ingested the smoke from the Honey Pistachio pumpkin scented candle and made her way back, where a warm cup of coffee awaited her on the window sill.  

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone.  It was the figure of Virginia Thornhill.  Virginia was a remarkably savage stand up comic, actress and barista with enhanced breasts and ginger lips.  

Jenny gulped.  

She was not prepared for Virginia.  As Jenny stepped outside on to her fire escape and Virginia came closer climbing up the metal stairs, she could see the empty glint in her eye.  

“Look Jenny.”  Glowed Virginia, with a controlling glare that reminded Jenny of a pack mule on a mountain tour, the moment before it was kicked a tourist off their back.  “It’s not that I don’t love you, but if I want an exploding watermelon for my one woman show, and those are not cheap, even for me.  You owe me $7812.  

Jenny looked back even more shocked and was still cupping the warm ceramic oversized “ My name is Heisenberg” coffee mug.  “Virginia, your madness is consuming you.” She replied.  

They looked at each other with mixed feelings like a spouse invited to see their partner receive a lifetime achievement honor at the adult video awards, which had R&B music playing in the background and sympathetic family friends dancing to the beat.  

Jenny studied Virginia's enhanced breast and ginger lips.  Eventually she took a deep breath.  “I’m afraid I declared myself bankrupt.”  Explained Jenny.  “You will never get your money.”  

“No!”  Objected Virginia.  “You lie!”  

“I do not!”  Retorted Jenny.  “ Now get your enhanced breasts out of here before I hit you with this non licensed novelty coffee cup.”  

Virginia looked lonely, her purse raw in hand, like a wicked, designer whip.  

Jenny could actually hear Virginia’s heart shatter into 7812 pieces.  Then the remarkable savage actress/barista hurried away into the distance.  

Not even a drink of Spanish fly would calm Jenny’s nerves tonight.  

The End 

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