God has many ways of showing up in my life at the most random of times. Any ordinary day could turn into the most bizarre happenings imaginable. Take yesterday for instance. Since I've been unemployed since the end of May, I've spent most of my time working on my tan and spending time with friends. My friend Kyle suggested a beach day yesterday, which of course I couldn't turn down. He called me up, "Hey girl! Wear your square cuts. Me and Henry are going to wear ours!" Perfect. I'm always down for causing a scene in public. I show up at the beach after having taken apart the mannequin in my room. I stuffed her legs, detached arms, and torso into my trunk so I could give it to Kyle. This is besides the fact though. Kyle had called me back as I was pulling out of the driveway to tell me to wear some board shorts overtop just in case. I was frustrated seeing as I was JUST leaving and he and Henry were already there. "I'm not going to be showing up and looking like a Richard Simmons workout video co-host by myself. Take your damn shorts, off we're all going down together!" I walk onto the beach in my cutoff sweatpants, white True Religion tee, my Reef flip flops (complete with pop top beer bottle opener on the soles), and my Ray Ban Wayfarers. Of course, Kyle and Henry were rocking their lycra hot shorts and I had mine on as well. "Hello ladies!" I called out to them as I approached. I laid my towel next to them and got down to business, immediately starting work on my tan. The three of us gabbed, laughed, and were talking about men, their flaws and weaknesses, and insecurities that root completely from their own inner self-hatred. We were getting fired up, between cigarettes checking out the scenery on the beach. A woman sitting by herself about fifty feet away had gone into the water, coming back out and looking to be in great shape. I immediately commented, "She looked just like Bo Derek coming out of the water like that!" Henry, without missing a beat: "I'll do the braids girl!" Me: "I brought the beads!" We laughed. She had an incredible rack, which is really saying something if three gay men notice those things. She got up out of her chair to return to her beachfront condo a couple times. She hollered out to us about how every time she got up, her ass would hit the ground beneath her chair. I found it incredibly odd how this complete stranger would have the balls to call out to three random tan gay guys in spandex. Kyle followed up with more conversation after her second run towards the condo. We called her over, spoke briefly, and she offered us beer. SHE WAS IN. Offer alcohol to a gay man and he's all yours. You'll have us eating out of your hand. Of course we accepted the offer, and within minutes, our little miss Derek was walking up with a plastic bag full of Bud Light cans. She sat down on my towel. She asked us if we had noticed the older gentleman that had stepped onto the beach (in full business attire) to speak with her earlier. All of us recalled. Corinne, as we soon learn is her name, proceeds to spew stories about this man and his incredible wealth. "He bought me a $75,000 Mercedes and this huge ring from [insert some Italian jeweler's name you've never heard of]" She told us of his vulgarity; he was an absolute dog, not to mention he had a barrel belly, too much hair, and expected to buy his way into Corinne's heart. As the conversation progressed, Corinne's story changed ever-so minutely. The $75,000 car became a $100,000 car. Once she said it was a Silver Mercedes SL convertible and that she had hand delivered it back to him, walking miles to return home on foot, I remembered seeing that old man drive off in that same Mercedes....ONLY, this Mercedes was the OLD body style SL, and when purchased used, couldn't have POSSIBLY cost more than $25,000. She did have very fine holes in these stories if you looked hard enough, but why should Kyle, Henry, and I care? She brought us beer, she's beautiful, she's from Long Island and has this great attitude! Corinne wanted to go out later yesterday evening. I was down for it, but Kyle and Henry immediately bailed on me. I should have known right then that this was a BAD idea. I would have to face Corinne alone, and she was quite intimidating. Beautiful, but definitely with thorns; I couldn't see them, but I know roses, and I am aware of their downfall. Corinne sets the date for 7pm. We finish our beers, exchange numbers, and pack up. Kyle hands me his digital camera and makes me swear to take pictures of how she looks all dolled up. I get ready at the house, painstakingly making sure I am on the top of my game. I have to look sharp, but casual. I wear my most expensive True Religion jeans, and a Juicy Couture tee-shirt that I scored at TJMaxx for like $20. I pull up to Corinne's condo, flicking my cigarette on the ground, and moments later she emerges. Her hair went from wavy pony tail beach hair, to Anna Nicole Smith bombshell curls, except Corinne is a brunette (but was previously platinum). She approaches the car with a painted red smile plastered across her face. She's wearing red patent leather mary jane pumps, white embroidered jeans, and a red wrap top with white polka dots. The girl looked incredible, a complete 180. Kiss kiss, cheek one, cheek two. She slides into the passenger side of my Jaguar. "I've been riding in some pretty nice cars here recently," she comments. I smile but really don't have much to say at all. I'm intimidated and trying really hard not to show the beads of sweat starting to form on my brow. Corinne has this charisma, this zing that you don't see in other women. She's hot, and she's very well aware of this. She pulls from her purse this joint that resembles a poorly hand-rolled cigarette. It doesn't taper at either end like any joint I've ever seen. She lights up as I drive. She tokes up, offering to share her herbal delight with me. I take one drag off of her modified cigarette and know immediately that I'm done. That one tiny hit was enough for me. I don't smoke weed, and couldn't even tell you the last time I took a hit. Corinne lets the thing go out and I park the car in front of the little upscale tapas bar. We get out of the car, and she sits the joint on the wheel of my car so it's not inside. Smart woman. I wish you could have heard her speak. Corinne and I order our first drink after we walked in, and immediately step outside to smoke a cigarette. I am parched, starting to feel very paranoid, and now at the full mercy of Corinne, the incredible. The words flow from her mouth and she starts filling me in with the details of her life, previous relationships, and eventually, faith. When sitting on the bench out front, slowly inhaling lungfulls of cigarette smoke, Corinne finally breaks the ice on the subject of her breasts. "People always stare, but I take it as a compliment. I know I have this incredible body, and that's what it's for. I don't mind when people look." Then she drops the bomb: "God made me like this as a gift to you." I immediately lose all cigarette smoke in my lungs, and erupt into a fit of stoned laughter. "ME!? What do you MEAN!?" I spat out. Corinne responded, "And him," pointing to a random black man walking on the sidewalk, "and anyone that looks." This was not going well, although it was extremely entertaining to have this brunette bombshell on my arm all evening. We enter back into the bar, and I collapse into the first barstool I can find. Corinne saddles up next to me. She straddles one of my knees and I keep my body language to a pretty guarded stance. I always have an appendage of some sort blocking my body off from Corinne. She's very real when she talks. Her vocabulary is epic. She uses words that I haven't heard, only read in books. She tells me she's MENSA; meaning she's among the greatest thinkers on Earth. She's in the top 1% of the world, and that fat old millionaire man, he's in the 100th of the top 1%. Okay. It's official; I'm dealing with a smart lunatic now. I'm breezing through Purple Haze martini's and she's slowly plowing through Cosmo's. I have no choice but to drink, seeing as I can't escape this woman. Corinne starts her stories on giving back. This was the best part about our conversations. She made me tear up a couple times. Corinne is a giver. I think, personally, that Corinne is a very selfish giver, but I can still appreciate and understand her concept of giving, and would actually implement it myself....maybe. She tells me stories. She was in line at a supermarket and this woman is in front of her in the checkout line. She's got this huge honkin' diamond ring on, Corinne tells me. The woman starts to have a panic attack because she can't find her wallet once she gets to the front. Corinne immediately rushes to her aid, patting this mystery women on the shoulder and telling her in her thick Long Island accent, that "This one's on me. Don't worry about it." Corinne flashes her big white, straight smile, and touches my shoulder. Corinne pays the woman's $32 tab and gives the woman her number. Well, to me, that defeats the purpose of giving, because she does expect the woman to call and repay her in some mysterious unknown way. Well Corinne says the woman calls her and invites her to join her on her 100+ foot long yacht. "The thing has to have a crew, it's so big," Corinne informs me. Corinne says there are about 50 people on the boat. They're drinking Dom Perignon and doing lines of cocaine. They are getting into the hot tub but Corinne doesn't get in with the rest of the group. The woman who owns the boat takes Corinne down into some room and asks her why she won't get into the hot tub. Corinne tells this woman that she has had several children and it ruined her body. She tells this rich woman that she doesn't show off her chest or abdomen to anyone. "Show me. Come on, let's see," this rich woman says. Corinne lifts her shirt, showing off havoc that I can only imagine. The woman later confronts her husband, telling him, "She helped me! She didn't know me from Adam!" Hubby strokes an $11,000 check and, TA DA! Corinne has one incredible set of saline breast implants. This story is hard to believe, but I eat it up, hook, line, and sinker. She has other stories. One I particularly liked was when she was driving in her Mercedes with the top back. Her hair is flying all over the place (at this point, drunken/high Corinne shakes her head vigorously in the bar, making her hair fly as if it were in gale-force wind). She says she was wearing this hot black dress and just cruising. She sees this old, black, legless man (well, OK, he had ONE leg). Corinne tells me about how she backed up traffic while getting this elderly man into her convertible. She tells him that God has asked her to take him to his destination and buy him what he desires. He wants bananas and lottery tickets. "I won't buy your lottery tickets, but how about I take you to the grocery store and come back with some surprises for you." Of course the man was skeptical. Beautiful white women in a Mercedes offering to buy him stuff. I'd have thought to myself, "Isn't this how horror movies start?" But he did trust her. She tells me that she gets him to the grocery store and leaves him in her Mercedes with the key in the ignition and the top back still, and she trusts the man in her car. Corinne tells me about all the fruits she buys him, and how she comes back to the car with bags of groceries. She takes him back home to the Veterans' hospital. She smiles at me too much. I'm very nervous around Corinne as she tells me these stories, smiling the whole time. She touches me constantly, and never gets more than 18 inches away from my face almost the entire time. She hugs me between stories, and makes very many comments about how attractive I am. She apologizes for being a heterosexual. She wants to kiss me so bad. She doesn't want sex, but she wants to kiss me. This makes me very uncomfortable. She starts with another story about running through a grocery store to locate an elderly black woman's cane. She brings one back that was turned in, but it wasn't the woman's cane. Corinne finds the cane on an isle, rushes back out to return it to the woman, and the old woman weeps. This touches me deeply. Corinne grabs my shoulders, pulls me in, and gets all of 8 inches away from my face. Her eyes are locked onto my soul, and I can count every eyelash at this point. "Take the time. Find the cane. Buy the candy. Give it all away." She tells me this at least 25 times. Corinne sees me looking at her breasts. She pulls her wrap shirt back and shows me one of her breasts. She has large nipples, but great looking boobs. I've seen them like that in porn before. I know they are good from what I've heard other men talk about them. I'm a little shocked, but she's very comfortable. I've said all of five words the entire time I've been with her. She dominates the conversation. She's high as hell! By martini number 76, I'm starting to lose the high feeling and starting to feel more like myself. Corinne shows me her boobs several times, getting more and more obvious about it as time goes by. I'm starting to worry that other people, who are quickly arriving, will see them and recoil in shock. Hiroshima/Nagasaki is yet to hit. Minutes later, the bomb is being released. Corinne holds my hand and walks me back to the restroom with her. Dave, our bartender, is a friend of mine. We talk a lot when I'm there, and he knows my friends. Out of the corner of my eye, I've seen him all night, holding back his laughter, and making shocked faces. I can't look at him for fear of Corinne catching on to Dave's little game that I'm involved in. I just smile wider and stare into Corinne's eyes. But back to the moment, Corinne stumbles towards the women's shitter, me dragging behind her. People are standing, there's a nice crowd of 20-somethings hanging out, having drinks. Corinne weaves between them, almost losing her footing on a couple occasions. I'm nearly sober, because I have to be at this point. She goes into the bathroom, and pulls me in. She locks the door and starts playing with her wrap top. She unties it. One breast is now fully exposed. There is a knock at the door. "You can't have two people in there. You're going to have to come out of there." It is Dave. I smile. Corinne pushes me behind the door and opens it up partially to talk to him. "Corinne! Your boob is hanging out!" I yell, but it's too late and she didn't notice anyway. "Just give me 10 seconds. I just need a little time here with my friend," she protests. This is completely out of my hands. Dave doesn't let her stop, but is wide-eyed, at the door, Corinne halfway out with her tit as clear as day. She manages to tie her top and walk out. I come out second, and the entire bar is looking in our direction. People are smiling, hooting and hollering, and ERUPT into applause! They are clapping like crazy, and EVERYONE has now witnessed the incredible beauty of Corinne's breasticlites. I just smile. I turned to Dave as everyone is clapping, "Did everyone see her boob?" I was hoping he'd say no. "Yes. They all did." FUCK. Great. I'm mortified. I just smile and return to my seat. This woman is out of control. I paid my tab. I paid her tab (she at least gave me a $20 to cover part of hers). I still paid over $32 with tip and everything. Dallas, one of my best friends, called me up a couple times and said she was going to stop by. When she finally arrived, she had missed the tit show. I was just in so deep, I couldn't help but smile and play along with Corinne. We kissed on the lips and hugged. Dallas shows up and gives me THE look. It says to me, "What that FUCK are you doing? OMIGOD, you're SO lucky I'm here." Dallas says, "I'm driving you guys home." Corrine is attempting to order another Cosmo, but Dave has cut her off, but he does it nicely by saying that she just needs to wait a few minutes. I'm done. Corrine is talking some crazy bullshit in my ear and Dallas is on the sidelines making comments to herself. She's laughing and she's pitying me. I can sense it. I give Dallas the keys and tell Corrine that, "I'm spending the night with her. I'm really sorry." She had been hoping I'd share her bed with her. Not for sex of course. She's looking for more of a cerebral fuck. A mind fuck. Someone who can stimulate her mentally. I remind her of her handmade doobie. She picks it off the tire, and gets in the back seat with me. She's kissing on my neck, laughing. Dallas is having a fit behind the steering wheel. I'm able to pry Corinne off of me at her condo without having to use a crowbar, but it was still difficult. She went inside, the door closed, I fell into the passenger seat of my car, and Dallas immediately lays it on. "What the fuck!?" she starts, "You're not ever calling her again. You're not going to Paris with her." I tried to explain myself. I'd only just met her on the beach. "Well," Dallas says, "do you want me to take you back to the bar so you can apologize to everyone?" I laugh. "No, just take me home, I need to be in my bed." Moral of story? "Take the time. Find the cane. Buy the candy. Give it all away"...Just don't show your boobs in public again Corinne. I still had a tab to pay, AND we got cutoff. Give a gay man booze, and he's yours forever. Get a gay man cutoff, and you're DONE SON.
