Friday, September 30, 2016

COOGS Novella excerpt 9-29-16


COOGS
Novella exerpt

Jewel and Paola are the only Coogs left from the earlier group at Poblano’s.  In between them sits Justin, a clean-cut 30-something guy, who is visibly loaded. 
Paola says, “So are you married, Justin?”
“Nah, I'm too young.”
“Me too.  I'll always be too young.”
“Y'know, you're pretty hot looking for, what're you, fifty?  Sixty?”
“How dare you?  A lady never tells her age.  But you're way off.“ 
She’s pushing seventy,” Jewel fills in.
“Actually I'm not quite seven.  Didn't you see that Science Channel documentary?  Every ten years, our bodies' cells are completely regenerated.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, I'm not a pedophile, or a cougar-hunter.  I'm just not that lubricated yet,” Justin says, getting up.   Jewel moves into his seat.
Jewel calls after him,  “She's got lube issues, too!”
“What are you trying to do?” Paola grumbles.  “I don't see a problem with dating young men.  They keep you fresh.”
“What do you do, when your vaginal mesh implant comes out during sex?”
“It only happened the one time.  I told him it was a fishnet diaphragm.” 
“Well that's my cue.”  Jewel drains her drink, grabs her bag, but Paola holds her down.
“But it's just eleven-thirty!”
“We got a match tomorrow.  Swim and Racquet Club.  They're a lot better than us, even when we're not hung over.”
“I always play best if I get my protein.  And I've already spotted my prey,” Paola leers, eyeing Chris, who is waiting at the bar for a drink order.  Chris winks at her.
Meanwhile, Justin sits down at the bar next to Chris, and they share a secret “bro handshake".
“How ya hangin', my man?” Chris asks.
“Hangin' in the geriatric zone, enjoying my free buzz.  Hey, who's driving that smokin' red Ferrari, out there in the handicapped spot?”  
“You were just sitting next to her,” Chris says.  Y’know it could be ours, for the evening.  You into carbon dating?” 
Chris gestures over to Paola and Jewel, still arguing.  Paola maintains a tight grip on her friend’s elbow.  
“You take the younger one,” Chris says.
“Which beast is that?  That one standing up?  She's got a sub-sahara Africa thing going on there.  Think she was last month's National Geographic centerfold,” Justin says.
“I know, I know.  But all we have to do is slip the Golden Girls a little sleepy dust…” Chris holds up a small vial, discreetly.  “…and we got the rest of the night to cruise South Beach in that sweet ride.”
Justin looks outside, at the cherry-red Ferrari, then back at Chris, shakes his head with smiling disbelief.


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