Ginny

I smell dog poop everywhere and despite my sunny disposition at most times I’m so nauseas my throat hurts from gagging as I shovel another kennel out and move on to the next.

“So you met a guy. That’s a good thing!” Ing yells at me over the sound of Mari and Rox retching.

I stop shovelling and trying to suffocate myself to death to escape the smell and lean out of the kennel, shaking my head. These three are my friends, my support structure and my Saturday night crew when I need to let loose and just forget life.

They’re also usually my cohorts thus the reason that we’re all cleaning kennels out at the local pound on a Saturday morning thanks to Father O‘Leary’s displeasure with me once mama got on the phone to him last night.

Papa called me at midnight, whispering to me conspiratorially and just as he warned, I was woken by the doorbell this morning at five to the good Father’s scowl and a lecture that I only escaped after I let him swindle me into this mess.

Of course I roped the girls in too. Can’t be cleaning dog poop all day when I have a terminally weak stomach at the best of times.

“Sure. A good thing. He met my family last night, not even an hour after Jack tried to gnaw his leg off. He lost half a tooth to mama’s rock bread, witnessed Joseph giving me a hairy sweat bath and then ate donuts while Abe let farts off at the dinner table. I am so sure he’s just dying to jump me now.” I snort, groaning in distress.

The sad truth is that I have a major crush on Blain George. Not one of those small ones where I can appreciate a good ogle and then move on like I always do, because after the Foster fiasco commitment just isn’t my thing. No, I have an ‘I will masturbate and yell your name at climax’ crush on the man.

It’s true. I did it last night and it was good.

That kind of crush is no good for me. I tend to be a little skittish around guys at the best of times thanks to Mr. Foster boning my cousin and then telling the whole neighbourhood he popped my cherry but bounced because I have a seventies bush and fat lips.

They’re completely fine! I think. I can’t say since I never let a guy look at them after I was teased for a good three months in junior high. My nickname was ‘flapper’ until Ing beat Laurie Dreyfus to a pulp and threatened to take a snatch shot and post it on Craig’s list with her address.

But focus. I’m not super confident here. Like at all. And I have the feeling that even if Blay could see passed the tragedy that is my blood, he won’t be too into a little twenty four year old virgin with hang ups about her hot tamale.

Ing and the girls drop their spades with curses and walk over, pulling me out of the toxic air and outside where my eyes immediately stop trying to crawl out of my head.

“Look, they’re…different, but any guy who likes you will pretend they don’t exist. Or you know, take medication to deal with them,” Mari assures me.

“Yeah. I mean your mama was on the phone tree last night telling all and sundry how that man was eyeballing you all night. It sounds to me like he likes you Gin. Like really likes you. Besides, didn’t you say he told you he’d call,” Ing says.

I toe the cracked concrete with my purple sneaker and look down at my pink shorts and t-shirt, the most normal thing in my closet as I think about this.

“Yeah, but he was just saying that.”

“Nuhuh. He’ll call. You looked rocking hot in that dress, trust me, I Facebooked that photo you sent. Although why you were standing next to an inflatable penis, I do not know,” Rox says, making me huff.

“It wasn’t an inflatable penis. Ew. I was standing outside the new hotdog joint next to the Laundromat.”

“That looked like a straight up dick to me,” Mari says.

“It was a hotdog with feet,” I splutter.

“It looked like a dick and balls,” Ing assures me.

“I helped Wesley paint that sign. I designed the hotdog. It was his feet,” I insist hotly.

Although now that I think about it…

We all burst into laughter and I cover my face with my hands and groan.

“He made me sign my name under the sign.”

That makes them giggle harder and my nose is running by the time I regain control and fall back into the wall, my shoulders slumped.

“Well, at least you got the colour right,” Rox says with a straight face before we all cackle hysterically.

“I think I like Blay. Like really like him you know. He got along with papa, ignored mama’s glares and gave me all his donuts last night even though I ate like six.”

“So? That’s a good thing! Maybe you can finally park the meat wagon and be a carpenter.” Mari says suggestively, getting three blank stares. “Play with wood guys! Carpenters play with wood. I mean honestly.”

Ing chokes and shakes her head in disgust.

“No wonder you can’t keep a man if that’s your idea of suggestive. You sound like a bad porno starring Will Farrel.”

They all grin because it is a sad fact that my celebrity crush is the curly haired fox and they still make fun of me every time we watch Teladega Nights and I have an orgasm.

“Whatever, I just mean he could be the one,” Mari insists.

I snort and glower.

“You know I don’t do commitment after the trust issues Foster gave me.”

“Oh please. That was so last decade’s news babe. Get over it. Anyway you got off lucky with that creep. I hear he has six kids by six different women and he scratches his crotch like he’s got fleas. Move on already,” Mari growls.

Foster having crotch rot makes me unaccountably happy and I smile even as I shake my head in denial.

“No way. He won’t even call. He’s not in my league,” I mutter, moving back inside before the good Father decides to pay us a visit.

“He will. And when he does you should just relax and go with the flow.”

“I don’t want a relationship, Mari. I can’t even keep a freaking job at this point and Jack’s been sniffing at the neighbour’s cat again. Swear to God if anyone can do interspecies conception it’s him,” I moan, shuddering at the thought of what will result from that unholy alliance.

I should have named the little runt Cooper seeing as he can’t keep it in his fur.

“Gross. Are you sure he’s a dog?”

“Positive. I took him to the vet when he was a puppy just to check.” I say solemnly, making them hose again.

Ing sobers quickly though and gives me her serious look.

“He’ll call and when he does you need to at least give him a chance. The man is hot, man was that photo you sent scorching, and he’s rich and has a sense of humour if he could sit through dinner with the family while half his tooth was missing. He sounds cool Ginny.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “He totally is.”

“Then do it. Maybe if you’re lucky you won’t have to marry Joseph and have little wolverine babies with bald heads,” Rox giggles.

I sigh again, louder this time as I start shovelling poop and bark at them to hop to it.

“Fine. But if he falls in love with me I am so blaming you guys. You know how cool I am when I put on the charm.”

Snorts echo around me and I listen to them gagging as I clean out the last kennel and grimace at the poop clinging to the bottom of my shoe. Maybe they’re right. I could so date right? I mean, I could, even with my gypsy philosophy I could let loose and have some fun.

And I’m attracted to him so sex isn’t the worst conclusion to this. I’ll just have to keep the lights off and hope that he’s not as into oral as I think he may be.

I snort at that too, because how pathetic is it that I hope he’s a wham bam lover instead of considerate. Man, I have really got to work up the courage to look at vagina pics one of these days to see how things really look. Fear holds me back though seeing as it’s entirely possible that I could learn I am totally disfigured or something.

“Hey, Gin, we’re done. You want to run over to that hotdog place and graffiti your name off the dick board?” Mari yells just as my phone rings.

I groan, expecting mama and almost swallow my tongue when I hear Blay instead.

“Hey Tink, whatcha up to?” he drawls, making my spine tingle.

“Poop. I mean, I’m cleaning out kennels,” I wheeze.

Great, Ginny, just great. That sounds so sexy.

He’s silent for a minute and I rush to say.

“Mama was really annoyed last night after I refused to set a wedding date, so she called father O’Leary and he made me clean out the kennels at the animal shelter.”

“That’s just nasty. But you should tell your mama to set the date for next month.”

“What! Are you nuts? We had this conversation. I want smooth babies.”

He chuckles and I blush when I hear Gray laughing in the background.

“Blay’s as smooth as a bowling ball! Doesn’t even have that many pubes left after he waxed once on a dare.”

“Shut the hell up, Grayson. Jesus. Sorry,” he mutters, making me giggle. “So, you done, Tink? Cause we’re all playing soccer in the park and my friends want to meet you.”

Huh? I…

“Yeah.”

“Great. Get over here and I’ll make sure they leave some food for you.”

“I’m uh, with my friends,” I answer, scowling at Ing when she tries to take my phone.

Her hiss when I slap her boob is loud but she backs off.

“Bring them with. See ya, Tink.”

“So where we going?” Mari asks when I stare at my phone and look up at them.

“He wants us to meet his friends.”

I should know that when Mari gets that sparkle nothing good will come of it, I really should but instead of wussing out I find myself in the park thirty minutes later, after hosing my shoes down as best I can and spritzing on some deodorant to get rid of the reek.

I should have just refused, I think when we reach the field and I get a loud of Blain George in shorts and a muscle shirt that’s off and tucked into his waistband, showing off a completely smooth chest that’s packed with muscle. Rippling, gleaming muscle that I have the urge to lick. And lick. And lick. Before I inspect that body for other hair issues.

“Oh my God, Gin,” they all moan, making me nod somberly.

Oh my God indeed.