A Witch's Valentine's Love Portionbyandtheend©
A hot Valentine's Day date turns bad, real bad.
Hot Valentine's Day date turns bad, real bad. Be careful what you wish for because with this witch's potion, your wish will come true.
"So, what are your plans for Valentine's Day?" Ritchie looked at his tall and handsome roommate Chad wishing he were him or at least looked more like him.
"Oh, I met this cute woman last night at the bar and she invited me to her place for dinner and drinks and more," said Chad with a smile and a wink. "If you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, you lucky bastard. Gees, how do you do it, Chad? I mean, I know you're good looking, but are all women that shallow?"
"You mean to want someone who looks like me over someone who looks like you," he said looking at his friend with a laugh. Chad furrowed his eyes brows, a clue to whenever he was thinking and about to say something deep, but usually dumb. If Chad was a blonde, he'd be a woman, a dumb blonde woman. "As Paul Newman said when asked why he never cheated on his wife, why have hamburger when I have steak at home. You, my friend, are hamburger and I'm filet mignon."
"You're such an asshole, Chad. You dug deep to pull that one out of your ass," said Ritchie. "C'mon, seriously, what's your secret?"
Ritchie looked at his friend trying not to show his jealousy. Other than his good looks, Chad had nothing over him. It did nothing to soothe his horny soul to know that he was a better person inside than was Chad. More educated, intelligent, sensitive, witty, and caring, yet the women flocked to Chad and not him.
"I give women what they want and I give women what they need," he said puffing out his chest. I give women a chance at someone like me," he said with an obnoxious laugh.
"I get it. It's not the women who are shallow. It's you. You're the one who is shallow," said Ritchie. "I should have known."
"Shallow? So? You say that like there's something wrong with that, with being shallow. There's nothing wrong with liking yourself," said Chad looking at himself in the mirror. "Just as there's nothing wrong in taking pride in your appearance, instead of walking around looking like a absent minded professor," he said looking over his shoulder at his friend.
"There is," said Ritchie. "There's more to life than dating a different women every night to get laid and/or to get a blowjob. Believe it or not Chad, the world doesn't evolve around sex."
"Well, if there is more to life than getting off, then I'm not missing any of that for this," he said grabbing his crotch. "Hang in there, buddy, you'll get lucky one day," said Chad with a laugh. "There's someone for everyone out there, even for you."
"Fuck you, Chad."
"C'mon, Ritchie. I was only joking with you. Don't be so sensitive."
"What's wrong with me? Why don't women like me? I'm not that bad looking. I have a good personality and a good sense of humor. I have a good job, make a good living, and I have a college degree," he said boasting his intellectual superiority over Chad. "I'm a good catch, aren't I?"
"Listen Ritchie, think of a woman you want to take out and go after her. Flirt with her. Say something witty, provocative even, to get her attention. That's the key," he said putting a fatherly hand on Ritchie's shoulder. "You need to show them that you're interested, but not interested, at the same time. You need to make them wonder and then the rest just happens, they want you, I mean, they want me," he said with an annoying little laugh.
"That's easy for you to say. I wouldn't be having this conversation with you, if I were half as good looking as you are. Obviously, looks have a lot to do with it."
"Seriously, it's not just about looks. Some of the greatest lovers weren't the best looking guys. Just look at all those homely rock stars with some of the most beautiful women in the world, supermodel Paulina, Christie Brinkley, Heather Lockleer, Heidi Klum, and Valerie Bertinelli all married beastly looking men, not that you're beastly, but you know what I mean.."
"Yeah, well, it helped that the men they married were all super rich. Then, tell me. What do you say to women to get their attention? C'mon, I want to know. Pretend I'm a hot woman and you're going to get my attention by saying something witty and provocative, even. What would you say?"
"Admittedly, Ritchie, what works for me may not work for you."
"C'mon, seriously, tell me. What do you say to pick up a woman?"
"I say, hi," he said with another laugh that was louder and more annoying than the others.
"Hi? That's it? That's all you say is hi?" Wanting to give him a swift kick in the balls, Ritchie shot his friend a dirty look. "You're such an asshole, Chad."
"You need to get a sense of humor, Ritchie. You're way too serious. You're a bit stressed. You seriously need to get laid, Dude."
"No fucking kidding. Yeah, I do need to get fucking laid, which is why I'm desperate enough to ask for your advice," said Ritchie looking at his handsome friend. "I wouldn't need a sense of humor or anything else for that matter, if I looked like you, a GQ super model." It was then that Ritchie realized who his friend resembled. Afraid to tell him fearing it would just go to his head, he said it anyway. "You look like that guy from that Polo ad, that Brazilin Polo player."
"Yeah, I know, I get that all the time. Women actually, think I'm him, especially when I speak with an accent."
"You speak with an accent? You can barely master the English language," said Ritchie laughing and trying to replicate Chad's annoying laugh.
"Seriously, Ritchie, just be yourself, have confidence, and say something to get the attention of a woman you like and are interested in asking out. That's all it takes. Do you have a woman in mind?"
Ritchie remained silent wondering if he should confide in Chad and tell him who it was he liked for fear that his friend would hit on her before he even had the chance to ask her out on a date.
"Dawn down at Starbucks," said Ritchie suddenly embarrassed by the reason he went to Starbucks three times a day. "Have you seen her?"
"Dawn? The hot blonde behind the counter?" He looked at his friend and bit his lip. "Yeah, I've seen her."
"Isn't she unbelievable? She's so beautiful. She looks Norwegian or Swedish, definitely Scandinavian. She looks like Heidi Klum only better looking and with a better body. I realize she's taller than me, but that doesn't matter with some women. Right? Look at Sonny and Cher, Billy Joel with Christie Brinkley, and Tom Cruise with Nicole Kidman. I realize they were all rich, but height isn't everything," he said looking at his 6'2" tall friend. "Is it?"
"Yeah, she is very beautiful, but she's okay, I guess if you like her type," said Chad suddenly breaking eye contact with his friend. "She's Danish."
"Danish? How do you know her nationality?"
"Actually, we've dated a few times."
"You dated Dawn?" As if he had just taken a punched in the stomach, Ritchie was deflated. He watched Chad shrug his shoulders in indifference. "You're such an asshole, Chad. You really are a piece of work."
Ritchie looked at his friend disbelievingly. How does he have the time to date all these women? Where does he get the money? Where does he get the energy and the ability to lie to so many different women, while keeping their names straight?
"Yeah, so we dated? What's the big deal? It isn't like she was your girlfriend or something. She wasn't even that great in bed. The sex was just okay."
"You had sex with her?" Ritchie looked at his friend, as if he was the devil. "You're such a pig, Chad," said Ritchie jealous of his friend's success with women.
"Pig? You're just jealous that you didn't have sex with her and I did. You're just sexually frustrated from staying holed up in this apartment and playing with yourself over Internet women, while I'm out getting my shaft lubed and shiny with beautiful women."
"C'mon, Chad. Help me. I'm sorry I called you an asshole, but I'm lonely and I'm horny." Ritchie looked at his friend feeling embarrassed for bearing his soul to him and showing him his weaknesses. "I don't want a different woman every night, I just want one woman, someone who likes me, loves me even, for me. I want my match made in Heaven, my soul mate."
"Well, for starters, maybe you should pick a different girl than Dawn down at Starbucks. She's not your type. She's not right for you. Besides, I think it would be weird for us to know intimate details about the same woman, especially if you by some miracle you had sex with her, fell in love, and married her. Don't you?"
"I'd have to leave the state to find a woman you haven't bedded," said Ritchie.
"Actually, you want to stay away from California. I moved here from there," said Chad with a horse laugh.
"Ha, ha, very funny, Chad."
"Hey, now that I think about it, I know someone and she's perfect for you. She's educated and smart."
"And she's not bad looking either. Actually, she's very pretty. I'd do her."
"She has a good job and drives a new car."
"Who, Chad? Who?"
"Oh, and she has a rack. Definitely a C cup," he said holding his hands out in front of his chest.
"Chad, tell me who it is you have in mind. I'm not a mind reader and the suspense is killing me. Who is she? Who?"
"You sound like an owl when you keep saying who over and again. Who? Who?"
"Just tell me who she is. Okay?"
"Heather? Who's Heather? I don't know anyone named Heather. Who's she?"
"Sure you do. You see her nearly every day at the library, you little bookworm."
Ritchie tried thinking of all the women he saw at the library studying to recall if there was one there every day. No one came to mind. He was invisible even to the women at the library. None of them looked up at him, as he passed by them.
"She's that cute librarian."
"Oh, that's Heather? Yeah, she is cute, very cute. Only, I never knew her name. How'd you get her name?"
"Oh, we got to talking one day and I asked her out. Only, she said that I wasn't her type. Obviously, she's stuck up."
Finally, a woman not interested in Chad. Maybe he'd have a shot with her, thought Ritchie.
"Just because a woman doesn't immediately take off her panties and have sex with you, you think she's stuck up." Ritchie looked at his friend while thinking about the possibility of having Heather in his life.
"Okay, so she turned me down," said Chad and a rare look of dejection.
"So, how do I go about this? Tell me what to do. How do I get Heather interested enough in me to want to go out with me? If she's interested in books and reading as much as I am, we already have a common interest. I'm sure we'd have plenty to talk about. Only, I have a feeling she's a little out of my league," he said suddenly feeling his confidence waning with the remembered thoughts of how really pretty she was.
"You may be right about her being out of your league, but I have a foolproof plan. Only, it will cost you a few hundred dollars."
"A few hundred dollars? What are you talking about? Listen, I've never been with a prostitute and am not about to pay for sex now. I'm not that desperate," said Ritchie raising up his hands, as if he was stopping traffic.
"Prostitute? Who's talking about a prostitute? Get your mind out of the gutter, buddy." Chad gave his friend a long look. "Boy, you have a low opinion of me, don't you?"
"I'm sorry, Chad. Just help me, okay? I'd love to have a date on Valentine's Day instead of sitting home alone again." He looked at his friend primping in front of the mirror fixing his hair. "I'd love to have someone to buy flowers and candy and pick out a special card to give to her."
"Okay, okay, stop your whining. You're so pathetic. I'll help you."
"I know a woman, she's lives out in the forest."
"Lives in the forest? What is she homeless or something? No one lives in the forest. I can't believe you'd fix me up with a bag lady," said Ritchie annoyed before having second thoughts and chuckling at the idea that he was actually thinking about, interested, and considering the possibility of having a bag lady as a girlfriend. "What does she look like?"
"Gees, you are desperate, aren't you? No, she's not homeless. She lives in a house. It's a family home, been in the family for centuries. The house is grandfathered in and when the state took the land, they had to build her an access road. They tried to take her house and her land by eminent domain but, serendipitously for her, the man behind the legal action to evict her tragically died suddenly."
"Really? What happened to him?"
"It was a car accident. A one car accident, actually. A tree fell on his car, as he was driving out of the forest after telling her that he was taking legal action to evict her. It was the weirdest thing. What are the odds of a freak accident happening to someone like that?"
"Still, I wouldn't want to live alone like that in the forest. She must be weird. Listen, maybe she's not right for me. I don't want a weird girlfriend. I had one before," said Ritchie, remembering Gothic Donna with all the tattoos and piercings.
"Who said anything about fixing you up with her? She's just someone who'd rather live alone. She doesn't like people much. Besides, she's too old for you," said Chad. "Yet, the people who know her special talents seek her out, which is why she lives alone in the forest, off the beaten path. Otherwise, she'd have a line of people at her door 24/7 asking for her help."
"Who is she? What is she? A psychic? A matchmaker? A doctor?"
"Well, you could say she's all those things and more." Chad looked at his friend and smiled. "She's a witch."
"A witch? There's no such a thing as a witch."
"Oh, yes there is and she's the real deal. If there are witches, she's the closest one to it. She's the product of a long line of witches that go back centuries. You should see her book of spells, potions, and curses. She's one woman that you don't want to cross and get on her bad side."
"I don't think I want to meet her, then."
"If you ask me, she made that tree fall on that guy's car at the exact moment he was passing by that tree. She actually has a caldron and a black cat. Only, her cat is more human than it is animal. If you go there and see the cat, don't make eye contact with it."
"She sounds a bit scary, crazy even."
"Yeah, well, she is that, too, scary and crazy, but she can help you. I know she can. She can give you a potion to get Heather interested in you, if that's what you want. Then, the rest is up to you."
"Yeah. Only, there's a catch."
"Catch? What do you mean there's a catch?" Ritchie looked at his friend with disappointment. "I figured as much. I knew there'd be a catch."
"Stop. God, you're so negative, Ritchie."
"So, tell me, what's the catch?"
"She takes pleasure in those who get what they wish for, only to find out that they wished they never wished for that. So, be careful what you wish for. You need to make sure you really want it because, with her help, your wish will come true."
"Oh, I see. So, let me get this straight. You're telling me that I had better want whatever it is I'm asking her to help me to get, otherwise I'm stuck with whatever it is I get."
"Yeah, that's the downside of asking a witch for help. There's always a catch."
Well, I can tell you that there's no downside to having someone who looks like Heather on my arm and in my bed. She's not only beautiful but also she's smart, too. She's my dream woman."
"Well, if you're sure, then I can make your dreams come true by introducing you to my forest friend."
"So, how do you know her?"
"How do I know her? Oh, well, uhm, well, she helped me."
"Helped you how?"
"To be honest with you, Ritchie, I didn't always look like this," said Chad looking away from the curious stare of his friend. "She gave me my looks."
"Gave you your looks? How could she give you your looks? What is she a plastic surgeon?"
"There's no need for plastic surgery with her spells. I used to be much like you. She helped me to be who I am by giving me a potion to inject some much needed confidence in me, along with a spell that gave me my looks."
"Spell? Potion? C'mon, Chad, what do you take me for? This is a joke, right? You're going to make a fool of me again."
"It's no joke, Ritchie and she can definitely get you Heather, so long as you are sure you want her."
"Oh, I'm sure alright. She's gorgeous and she's someone that I could never get on my own with the help of a witch."
"Okay, then," said Chad. "Let's do this."
Ritchie looked at his friend. With the Witch's help, if he could look half as good as Chad looked, he'd be fighting the woman off with a stick.
"I'm curious to know then, what's your downside?"
"What do you mean?"
"You said to be careful for what you wish for because--"
"Oh, that, well," said Chad looking around first before answering, as if there was someone else in the room, "I don't know this for a fact but I suspect that I'll look the same as I do now at twenty-five-years-old, as I will when I'm forty-five and sixty-five, even."
"That's a downside? That's not a downside. People pay plastic surgeons to do that now."
"Yeah, well, the problem is that if I should marry, I don't want to look better than my children, while not aging gracefully with my wife. That would be just too weird never aging like Regis Philbin or Dick Clark or Barbara Walters or Diane Sawyer. It makes you wonder if those four made a deal with the Devil or consulted with a witch."
"Yeah, you have a point there, but you can always tell people that it's just genetics," said Ritchie looking at his friend and wondering how much of what he said to believe. Not one to say things based on facts, Chad generally exaggerated and over dramatized things a bit. "Okay, I'm game. Where do I go?"
"C'mon," said Chad. "I'll drive you. It's about ten miles outside of town."
Chad drove his friend to the edge of the forest where Isadora lived. He stopped his car by a long, dirt, winding road that the state had freshly built a few years before, but that was quickly being reclaimed by the forest with moss, weeds, frost heave undulations, potholes, and fallen branches. Although a sport utility could easily make it along the winding uphill dirt road without difficulty, Chad's little sports car would bottom out, no doubt. Unless walking on foot, the only way in or out of there was flying on a broom, he thought.
"Her house is about a mile down the road. You can't miss it. The road curves down and up before winding off to the right. She lives on the top of a small hill. It's the only house for miles."
"Aren't you coming with me?" Ritchie looked a little apprehensively, while wondering if he was being setup for a joke, stared at his friend.
"I'll wait here for you out of harm's way of any falling trees. I don't want any trees falling on my car and on me," Chad said looking up at the trees with a nervous laugh.
Ritchie got out of the car and started walking. At first, not really believing that he was walking to visit a witch, he was brave, self-assured, and confident. Yet, once in the forest and out of sight of Chad, he couldn't help but feel there was someone or something watching him and following him.
This is one place he'd never want to be alone at night without a flashlight and a handgun. Imagining all sorts of magical, mystical, and enchanted things, God only knows what creatures live and lurk here. It blew his mind that only a mile down a forest path, something like this, a witch, existed with civilization so close. You never know, you just never know.
He laughed at the thought of a witch living in the forest. Why not? Much like the coyote, the wolf, the bear, and poisonous snakes, there are all sorts of deadly creatures living all around us. Only, the creatures that are more dangerous than any of those are walking around on two legs and pretending to be innocent women, he imagined, instead of the witches that they are. At least, that is how he imagined this witch as being old, ugly, decrepit, evil, and very dangerous, deadly even.