Page 50 of Santa Has a Six-Pack
“Oh, we’ll wait,” a woman purrs. Upon closer inspection, I realize her T-shirt reads “Hot 4 Santa.”
What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?
I return to Dottie and Keira, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy that just ran through me. So a bunch of women are about to sit on Matt’s lap. Who cares? Certainly not me.
“Alright, Dottie the Hottie, tell us everything,” I say.
Dottie’s face breaks into a huge smile. “Yes, the rumors are true! I banged on the third date! Wait. Is banged correct English? Maybe I bung on the third date?”
“Bung isn’t a word, but good for you, girl! This is huge!” We high-five.
“So? How was it?” Keira asks. “Has sex changed any in the past decade?”
“Oh, honey, it’s been more than a decade,” Dottie says. “Arthur left fifteen years ago, and we weren’t intimate for at least three years before that.”
“I was sort of asking for me,” Keira says glumly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bring down the sex celebration.”
“Had you and Tagg not had sex in ten years?!” I say much louder than I intend to.
“Shhh!” Keira whacks me with her clipboard. “Are you kidding me? No. We had sex all the time. We had it last week, in fact. I was just thinking it must be wild to be with someone new after so long. Tagg has been my one and only. It’s always just been in and out, in and out…”
“Alright, honey, we don’t need visuals,” Dottie shields her eyes.
“Keira,” I say firmly. “Why on earth did you sleep with Tagg last week? I thought it was over?”
“Me too!” she says. “I mean, it is. It is over.”
“So?” I press. “How did it happen?”
“How did it happen?” Keira repeats, like she’s asking herself the same question. “Well, he’s been staying in a rental since I found out about his… Gosh, his…”
“His affair.” I fill the word in for her.
“Can we not use that word?” She winces. “Unless we’re talking about an actual party? ‘Oh, my husband had an affair.’” Keira puts on a fancy, upper-crust kind of voice. “No, he didn’t, Nancy! He fucked another woman. That’s what he did!” She pauses. “I’m sorry Dottie. We’re way off track. Let’s talk about you and Leo.”
Dottie places a kind hand on her shoulder. “Plenty of time for that, hon. Continue.”
“You sure?”
“Completely sure. Go on.”
“So he came over the other night to have dinner with me and the kids. It was nice, you know? For a few hours, we felt like a family again. Then, after the kids went to bed, we just… fell into old habits, I guess.”
“Oh, Keira,” I say.
“I know!” she groans. “Revoke my feminist card immediately, please!”
“Was it at least worth it?” I ask gently.
“Hell no!” she says. “I gave him a blow job, we had sex for five minutes, then it was over, with no orgasm for me. As usual. Only difference was this time I had a side dish of guilt and abandonment-of-self to go along with it.”
I give her a look.
“I’ve been listening to self-help podcasts nonstop,” Keira explains. “Apparently, I’m an abandoner of self.” She looks around and shakes her head. “Whatever. Thanks for listening, but I shouldn’t be talking about this at our place of employment.”
“Maybe not?” I say. “To be fair, though, the rules of this place feel murky ever since we incorporated sexy Santa time.”
Case in point.
