Harangue

"Shit, woman, some nights I clear more than $100 in tips! That's pretty damn successful in my neighborhood. Certainly, don't stop you from fucking my cock every Tuesday night!"

"Who is fucking your cock, Miguel," asked the Hispanic woman behind the pizza delivery guy.

"Dammit, Maria, I told you to wait in the delivery car!" Miguel shouted.

"Fuck the car, Miguel. Who are you fucking?" Maria asked angrily.

"Maria, darling, you are the only woman for me that is why I have your face tattooed on my arm!"

Miguel rolled up his sleeve and proudly showed her his tattoo.

Maria hissed, "That is my cousin, Isabella!"

"No Maria, that is you!" Miguel cried with injured dignity.

"You dumbass, you got her name spelt under the tattoo!"

"Oh wait...I forgot, that is an old tattoo! It is on my other arm."

Miguel obligingly rolled up his other sleeve.

"My sister Consuela!" Maria cried, "You fucking my sister as well!"

"Jesus, Maria, I know I got you somewhere on my body!"

"Wait a minute! I remember. I wanted you next to my heart!"

Miguel rolled up his shirt to expose a beerbelly and man boobs that I'd just have preferred not seeing. He stuck out his chest proudly.

"MY MOTHER!! YOU FUCKED MY MOTHER!!" Maria screeched, "You really are a motherfucker, you puta!"

She started beating him on the head with an empty pizza box. As Miguel ducked from the blows, Clarice's Mother enraged at the betrayal she suffered joined in beating the hapless delivery man with another empty pizza box. Lady sensing a rare opportunity began humping on the three individuals' legs simultaneously.

I spotted Tyrone carrying another matched set of bra and panties into the bathroom.

Now, the apartment filled with the friends and acquaintances of all the warring parties drawn from the social media's SOS messages transmitted. No sooner than one group arrived, it was met with a different group and another cheating liaison was discovered.

Soon every available spot in my apartment was filled with arguing couples denouncing each other's cheating. Various groups would drift from room to room engaging in cheaters' bingo by trying to find someone they fucked in each room.

Each person ignored the wet badge of dog semen on their leg from Lady as they continued to argue and fight with one another. Lady staggered from person to person in the eternal quest of marking everyone until finally that magnificent heart gave way and he/she rolled over and died.

Dan and I came off the chairs and sat down together on my sofa.

"Lady was truly a champion," he pronounced.

I agreed we would not see his/her likes again.

We continued to survey the chaos around us.

Claire and Jack Simmons had reconciled and were beating on the bathroom door demanding their adoptive black son, Tyrone give up the bathroom to give them a moment of privacy.

The Rugrats were busying destroying the furniture for kindling to roast marshmallows on the floor of the livingroom. I figured they would convince some idiot to give them a lighter within five minutes.

A stranger had assigned himself as the maitre d' at my front door. He was talking to a foursome. "I can put you in the guest bedroom in about twenty minutes. If you want to wait for the den, it will be about an hour and a half."

"What about smoking?" One of the men asked.

"The only smoking area is the balcony and that's a solid two hour wait," the maitre d' advised.

While the foursome discussed the options, a man whispered something to the maitre d'.

"Miller! Party of six! Your reservation in the kitchen is now available!" The maitre d' shouted down the crowded hallway. The lucky six slowly pushed their way through the crowd. I spotted one of the guys tipping the maitre d' with a ten dollar bill.

Dan nudged me and brought his mouth close to my ear.

"Best. Soap Opera. Ever!"

I giggled even through all the destruction. Fuck it, I had been kicked out and all I'd really miss would be the outfits that Tyrone had appropriated. Hell, that's why I had insurance. I had the wild thought of modeling my new lingerie to a private audience consisting only of Dan.

"You know about Enrico Fermi, Ann?"

"Yes, Dan. He's the scientist that started the first nuclear reaction here in Chicago."

"That's right, Ann. There's one thing you need to remember about a nuclear reaction. Once it reaches critical mass, you get a detonation!" he observed as more and more people made their way into my apartment.

"Look, I've got bleacher seats at Wrigley for tonight's game. Wainwright is pitching for the Cardinals. Would you care to join me?"

My heart skipped a beat.

"Are you a Cardinals fan," I asked, knowing that a lot was on the line on Dan's answer.

He nodded his head even though he had no idea of my allegiance.

I grinned and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my blouse. There resting in the cleavage of my bosom was my necklace consisting of blood red rubies forming the interlocking letters S, T, and L of the famous St. Louis Cardinals' logo on a background of diamonds. The platinum chain sparkled in the light.

I was really happy to see Dan was studying my tits and peering as far down he could while still being a gentleman.

Shit, I thought. I'm going to be sleeping with him by the time I move into my new apartment in two weeks.

He gripped my hand and led me slowly through the crowd. We said goodbye to the maitre d'.

We squirmed through the crowded hallway as we made our way out. I told him that I would buy the brats and beer for the game. He shook his head. I was his date and I wasn't going to pay for anything.

Shit, I thought, I'm going to be fucking him within ten days.

We finally got to the stairs and I said, "Well, after the game, will you let me treat you to Navy Pier?"

Before he could answer, two of Chicago's police officers were running up the stairs, hands ready on the grip of their handguns.

We both said simultaneously, "You're going to need backup!"

The officers looked down the swelling hallway and both reached for their mikes to radio for urgent help.

As we walked down the flight of stairs, he said, "Ann, instead of Navy Pier. What do you think of going downtown to Buddy Guy's?"

"Dan, Derek Trucks is playing there tonight with Buddy. That show has been sold out for weeks!"

"Relax Ann, I've got a reserved table. Buddy is a personal friend of mine."

Shit, I'm going to be fucking him within a week, I thought.

We exited the building. A fleet of police cars were screeching to a halt in front of the building. National Guardsmen were putting up barricades and cordoning off the area. Three police helicopters were hovering at the building shining their spotlights on my floor.

Tyrone had enlisted a group of transvestites to perform in a chorus line clad only in my lingerie and they were doing kicks like the Rockettes to the cheers of everyone in my apartment.

I just shook my head and thought, Fucking Cubs fans.

As Dan opened the door to his ragtop Corvette he looked at me and said, "Since you don't have anyplace to stay for the next two weeks, why don't you stay with me at my two story condo. It has a great view of Lake Michigan in the morning from my bedroom and I make a mean breakfast."

Shit, I thought. I wasn't going to be able to keep from screwing him for a single night.

As he drove off, I asked, "Dan, how many kids do you want?"

Without looking at me he just grinned.

Damn, I love his smile.