Page 54 of King
Camille: And why are we just now hearing about it???
Kim: First of all, a lady never fucks and tells. Second of all, I’ve rarely been accused of being a lady, so I’ll tell you. I once spent a lost weekend in Sturgis, South Dakota. There was a rodeo in town the same weekend as the big biker rally. Oh, and it wasn’t a cowboy OR a biker. It was a cowboy AND a biker. Spike and I met Billy Wayne Dupree in a rundown honky-tonk on the edge of town, and the three of us had a wild night at the Bluebird Motel out on Route 9. Spike really revved my engine, and Billy Wayne taught me why they’re called cowpokes. It was a lot of fun until the manager kicked us out after we broke the bed and the guests in the room downstairs complained about the noise.
Camille: You lie like a rug, Kim. That didn’t happen.
Kim: You don’t know everything I’ve done. I had a misspent youth, thank you very much.
Me: Misspent youth, my ass. Uncle Neil would have used imaginary Billy Wayne’s equally imaginary lasso and hogtied you if you even tried to leave the state, let alone going a thousand miles across the country to the Sturgis bike rally. You went to an all-girls school, spent your summers learning to bake with Grandma and me, and wore braces until you were twenty…and I have the pictures to prove it.
Kim: It still could have happened.
Me: But it didn’t.
Kim: I oversold it, didn’t I? What gave it away?
Camille: I think it was the honky-tonk. Nightclub, yes. Cozy jazz bar, sure. Wine bar,definitely. Rundown honky-tonk? Over your dead body.
Me: Camille’s right, although I thought the Bluebird Motel out on Route 9 was a nice touch. On a side note, I actually know a biker named Cowboy. He’s Pop’s son-in-law.
Camille: Is he a silver fox, too?
Me: He’s a tall, lanky blond, with a slight Texas twang. He’s also taken.
Camille: Bummer. Can you ask him where the word cowpoke originated? Kim’s story made me curious.
Me: Ladies, can we focus on the real problem here? What the hell do I do about Dante?
Camille: Wait…who the hell is Dante, and what the hell happened to King?
Kim: That’s my girl! Two men on the hook…hot damn!
Me: Dante is King’s real name. Now, focus! What. Do. I. Do?
Kim: El, you know that I love you more than my new Louboutin pumps, so I’m going to tell you this in the nicest way I know how. Pull your goddamned head out of that thick ass of yours and ride that man until the bed breaks.
Camille: Yeah, what Kim said.
Camille: Seriously, hon, give him a chance. Stop watching life from the sidelines. Get in there and play the game.
Camille: Especially if the game is Hide-the-Salami.
Kim: The winners get an orgasm!
I sent them a selfie of me flipping them off. Yeah, they were definitely less than helpful.
