Page 16 of Hot Doggin'
Tasha
Then again, we’ve had bad luck with names that end in Y, I, and R. Instead of playing alphabet roulette, I throw caution to the wind and send her a message. After all, beggars can’t be choosers.
RedBedHead: Whatcha doing, girl?
I pour myself a glass of juice as I wait for her reply. Even from the kitchen, I can hear the notification chime from my computer, and I race back to my desk to check it.
LilLonelyGurl: Sitting here, hoping you’d hit me back.
RedBedHead: Consider yourself smacked.
Shit, that was fucking stupid.Thereadnotification pops up below my message.Dammit, too late to take it back.
LilLonelyGurl: So what do you do?
RedBedHead: I work from home.
LilLonelyGurl: Me too! Tell me about your job.
My job? I wouldn’t really call it a job, more like a side hustle. It pays for the gas in my bike and the beer and wings in my belly after group therapy when I go out with the Bitches.
RedBedHead: I help veterans file disability claims.
LilLonelyGurl: Oh, cool. So you work for an insurance company?
RedBedHead: No, I just work for myself. After I got hurt in the Army, I became an expert at navigating the system, and I figured I could make a buck helping others do the same.
LilLonelyGurl: Cool! I think I saw something about the Army on your profile? How’d you get hurt?
Like hell, I was going into that whole sob story with a girl I just met online.
RedBedHead: Took some shrapnel and lost my leg.
Crickets. Fucking crickets for the next fifteen minutes. Oh well, another one bites the dust.
I get up to take a piss because staring at the computer screen, waiting for it to do something, is going to make me lose my fucking mind. Finally, she chimes back.
LilLonelyGurl: So, like, you have no leg?
RedBedHead: Nope. Just one left. It’s in my profile. So what do you do? You mentioned working from home.
LilLonelyGurl: I’m a model. A performer. Like, an online personality.
Sure you are, sweet cakes. Which is why you’re desperate enough to hit up men on this site at twelve o’clock in the afternoon. On a Monday, no less. I've met enough of these girls to know online personality/model performer is code for homemade porn. She’s not looking for a date, she’s looking for a co-star.
Fucking chicks whose names end with the letter A. I should have known!
RedBedHead: What’s the link to your account?
She hits me back immediately with the link. Sure enough, I can get to know Breanna better for $9.99 a month. No fucking thanks. Porn is free. Paying for it is for suckers and losers.
LilLonelyGurl: Well, it’s been real nice getting to know you. I don’t think this is going to work out. I’ve never dated someone with one leg.
Jesus Christ, really? She’s just gonna lay it all out there like that? No fucking shame whatsoever. Doesn’t she know there’s a niche for amputee porn? Not that I want to appear on film or anything. Hell, every one of my former Army buddies and current ALR brothers probably watch that shit. Who knows howmany of them subscribe to Breanna. Ain’t no way I’m putting my pale red ass on camera.
RedBedHead: Agreed. Good luck with your career.
For the rest of the day, I’m in a shit mood. Fuck Breanna. Fuck all these chicks who give me nasty looks because I’ve got one leg. I’m a catch! Not just because Stiles tells me that, but because I know I am. I'm a nice guy, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for someone I care about. My bills are paid, I like to have fun, and I’ve got a big cock. What else are they looking for?
