Page 150 of Talk Nerdy To Me
“Do you need the hat?” Randy asks through a laugh as I stare incredulously at my reflection.
I look like a crossdressing Peter Pan.
Angrily, I start pulling on the first boot. “I was supposed to wind down with a run, shower, and put on my nicely made outfit that I spent a month’s worth of bill money on.”
I stab my foot into the other boot, and start doing the complicated buckles on both.
“I got the fucking run. I got the fucking shower. Now I’m wearing women’s clothing because you got a fucking dog!”
This is pointless. The more I yell at them, the harder they laugh.
I yank Randy’s keys out of his hand as I pass, because his new car has excellent gas mileage, and I’m sure as fuck not stopping for gas.
I grab my duffel bags, sneezing as that dog comes barking through the house. Ignoring my itchy eyes, I go back and quickly take a picture of the ruined outfit the dog is now growling at as he tries to drag it out of the room.
Then I leave the madhouse full of dicks with another sneeze.
***
“You’re on the list, but you don’t meet dress code,” the prick with a clipboard says as he eyes my clothing with a look of disdain. “Are you sure you signed up for the right thing?”
“I’m positive. Just find the queen, and she’ll let me in. Please,” I tell him, uttering words I never thought I’d say outside a fairytale book.
He stares at me for a second before he laughs a little, then starts laughing harder. “Are you some sort of prank on the queen? A…stripper?” he asks through his chuckles.
Pulling up my phone, I quickly text Harley, realizing getting in is harder than just handing over an invitation and being on a list when you’re dressed like a slutty-elf-male-stripper in women’s clothing.
“Just find the queen,” I say again.
“Me? Find the queen? You really don’t belong here, because you don’t know how these things even work,” he tells me as his laughter tapers off. “Be gone, pedestrian. We don’t need—”
“Base!” Harley shouts from across the way as she quickly rides toward us on an actual, real horse, wearing some outfit that makes her look like a Grecian goddess.
Thank. Fuck.
The dude beside me quickly drops to a knee, eyes widening as he stares at the ground.
“All hail the queen!” he shouts.
Harley’s eyes widen in slight horror as she approaches, and I run a hand through my hair as her lips thin.
“I told you to take this seriously,” she snaps as her horse comes to a stop right in front of me, leaving me staring way up at her.
“A dog ate my costume,” I inform her as I quickly flip through the pictures on my phone.
She glares at me. “At least try to come up with a better excuse than—”
Her words cut out as I hold my phone up, and she snatches it out of my hand to get a better look, as her horse side-steps toward me a little.
“Wow. A dog really ate your costume,” she says like she’s impressed by this.
Her gaze flicks back to me, and her lips start twitching as she glances over my outfit with a more amused look now.
“Is that the slutty elf top from the kinky store?” she asks like she hopes I’m going to answer yes. “And where in the world did you find those…very tight leggings?”
“It’s been a reeeeaaaaallllly rough day, Harley, and now I have a full three days to get through dressed like this.”
I gesture at my clothes, and she just grins harder.
