Higher and Harder

Communicators League 2020

She led me down a dark dirt path. I’d met her fifteen minutes into the Fantasy Party, she said let’s blow this Popsicle stand, and I, always ready to follow a redhead, agreed. Our only light was the from her cell phone and we ended up at an old barn. “This is what I wanted to show you, she said, heading towards a far corner. This is the path to the nest of spiders.” She began to undress. Nothing turns me on more than making love in the straw knowing there are spiders only inches away.”

I will follow a redhead, only so far and found my way back to the party where I re-introduced myself to the bartender and chugged a double bourbon, neat, to settle me down. I saw the redhead again and watched her lead someone else out towards the path.

“If I had a drink like you just did, I’d feel like my soul’s on fire, a brunette said. “Don’t much like spiders?” she asked.

“Not much,” I said feeling the bourbon massage my insides.

She said, “Let’s grab another drink and go down by the swings – I’ve never gotten over my love of playground swings. I love Bill’s parties, don’t you?” I told her I’d never been to one before and she said, wrong answer, and then I remembered the invite rules: make everything up. This is my first annual Fantasy Party, the invitation read.

It was a pleasant evening and it was fun swinging and sipping my drink. “Want me to push you, I asked and she said, “Maybe after we get to know each other better and by the way, what’s your name?”

“Arnold,” I said.

“That’s the name of my accountant, gynecologist, and former divorce lawyer and also the name the Indian man uses when he calls to sell me solar panels. My name’s Henrietta and after the spider episode what gave you the courage to follow me outside?”

“Cleavage,” I said and she said, “You realize you said that aloud don’t you?”

“The bourbon is the key that unlocks the filter between my brain and mouth,” I told her and she found that charming. Then she said, “Okay, you can push me now,” and I stopped my swing and pulled the ropes on hers back and pushed her forward.

She kept saying higher, higher, which my brain heard as harder harder so I pulled back and let it rip and pushed her harder and higher and when she was above the top of the swing she let go of the ropes and spread her arms and flew off to parts unknown. I walked back to the party thinking perhaps I wasn’t cut out for Fantasy Parties and went to the bar where the bartender was ready with my double bourbon and one cube, looked around and saw the spider lady and the swing lady entwined on the couch and walked out, glass in hand, looking for a cab.


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