Monthly Archives: July 2017
Lipstick Day! A sexy poem . . .
PS — I’m writing a WW2 time travel story now where everybody wears red, red lipstick. What’s your favorite color?<
She wore gray.
He wore blue.
But their love defied the boundaries of war.
And time.
My Wild Elevator Ride: A Short Story
Writers work in a cubicle surrounded by books, computers, and ideas.
We get lonely.
So when we go out (which isn’t often when you’re trying to promote your work online and get through the quagmire of the first chapter in your next book), we get talkative.
And since today is Talk in an Elevator Day, I’m reminded of the time I was in an elevator in a hotel and a guy was chatting me up about his hundred thousand dollar a year sales job and his black BMW. Nice enough, but I wasn’t looking for anything more than an ice machine that worked. The one on my floor was broken.
The convo went something like this.
“You don’t want to drink alone,” he said, observing my ice bucket filled with chilled cubes.
“I have my laptop for company.” I smiled. “Besides, I have work to do.”
“Are you here with the software convention?” he asked warily.
“Well…” I wasn’t, but I decided to play along.
“No way…a pretty girl like you can’t be a techie.”
“Why not?” I shot back. “Can’t women use their brains to get ahead?”
“Not when they have natural attributes…” He eyed my chest. Mind you, I was wearing navy blue sweats and pink bunny slippers with floppy ears. This guy was either desperate or he’d been on the road too long.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m a writer.”
“You’re kidding?” He seemed genuinely surprised, which didn’t help my ego. “What do you write?”
Ooh…I couldn’t resist shooting him the punch line.
“I write sexy novels.”
“Well, you are full of surprises,” he said, edging closer to me. “We should get to know each other better.”
The air in the elevator suddenly got stuffier and I prayed my deodorant didn’t work so he’d get the message. So far, no one else had gotten on the elevator and I had two more stops before we got to my floor.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I said, wiggling the ears on my rabbit slippers, hoping to shoot down this guy’s sex-o-meter. That should have stopped him right there.
It didn’t.
“How about a nightcap in my room? My bottle of bourbon and your–” He paused, wetting his lips. “Ice cubes.”
“You mean research?”
“Oh, yeah…”
“I bet,” I said.
I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but sometimes we writers just ache to act like our heroines and throw back those snappy remarks. I tried to discourage him, but when he started breathing in my face, I knew I was in over my head. I did what any romance heroine would do.
I dumped the bucket of melting ice on his pinstripe suit.
“Hey, what the–” he called out and thank God, the elevator door opened. It wasn’t my floor, but I didn’t care. One more minute with Mr. BMW and I would have ended up served on a chilled platter. Before he could brush the ice off his shoulders, out I ran. Down the long corridor and then jammed down the stairway to the next floor to my room.
I never looked back.
I imagine that was the last time he tried to pick up a girl in an elevator wearing pink bunny slippers.
~Jina
Featured in the picture:
Titanic Rhapsody from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.
My Titanic romance “Titanic Rhapsody” is available on:
US: Amazon Kindle and Amazon KU http://a.co/1wSE0rb
UK: Amazon Kindle and Amazon KU http://amzn.eu/75Lw9NS
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My Titanic romance “Titanic Rhapsody” is available on:
US: Amazon Kindle and Amazon KU http://a.co/1wSE0rb
UK: Amazon Kindle and Amazon KU http://amzn.eu/75Lw9NS
———–
She wore gray.
He wore blue.
But their love defied the boundaries of war.
And time.
Once upon a story... 