Page 29 of Meet Stan

My friend Abigail had set the whole girl’s night out up ahead of time. First, we were going to a ‘wine and painting’ class where we would all get to create our own artwork. Then, it was a short taxi ride over to a Greek restaurant which had rave reviews online. Finally, we would finish it all off with karaoke.

It sounded exhausting to me, but we got to spend so little time together I didn’t feel I had a right to complain.

Abigail blew up my phone with texts while I was trying to get ready. I slipped into a pair of designer jeans and a fashionable but inexpensive shirt. If there was going to be paint involved, I didn’t want to take any chances of ruining a good outfit.

A short while later I took the stairs down to street level and found Abby waiting in the back of a taxi. Abby stood just over five and a half feet tall, and wore her blonde hair in a short page boy style. She smiled at me as I climbed into the back seat with her.

“Ivy, looking good,” she said. “I guess the new job suits you.”

“Yeah, except for the infuriating prick who keeps trying to go over my head. You look amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s things in the perfume sales industry?”

“Don’t get me started. If I get one more person filling up my inbox because they're an ‘influencer’ and I should give them all our products for free, I’m going to explode.”

“Where are Ginger and Kits?”

“We’re on our way to pick up Ginger from work. Kitty is going to meet us at the painting place, being as she works right across the street.”

“What’s she doing now?”

“Personal trainer. She operates out of the Gold’s Gym next to the painting place.”

“That’s cool. It has to be better than being stuck in an office like she used to.”

“Yeah, we’re not all math nerds who get off on crunching numbers.” She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Careful. Your face will stay that way.”

She rolled her eyes to the roof. “Oh please. Just think of all the bullshit things they used to tell us when we were kids. Like if you swallowed a seed, a tree would grow in your stomach.”

“Oh, and that if you mix pop rocks with soda, your stomach will explode.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “That’s a good one.”

Abby sighed wistfully, her eyes growing distant.

“Dude, I miss pop rocks so much. How come kids get all the cool candy? Adults should get cool candy too, we’re the ones stressed out.”

“I am totally on board with this.”

“Yeah, tell those bigwigs at your fancy firm that you want to start an adult candy company.”

I cocked an eyebrow.

“It occurs to me we shouldn't limit ourselves to candy. What about breakfast cereal?”

“Yes, breakfast cereal—but only if it’s loaded with sugar, contains no essential vitamins or minerals, and comes in a cool box with a prize at the bottom.”

I gasped as the taxi pulled out into traffic.

“It’s like you read my mind. Only the toy should be adult, too.”

“Now you’re talking. Collect all five cock rings—”

I burst into scandalized laughter. “No, you goof. I meant like a vodka lollipop or something like that.”

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