Honourable mention in the 3rd Annual Geist Literal Literary Postcard Story Contest.

He’s much more handsome in person, Tony is. What a bod. Talk about six-pack. Tony rules. Only his closest friends call him Tony. Like Mooch and Nicky the Tongue.

Nicky the Tongue used to be sweet on me before Tony took an interest. Now I can only see Tony exclusively, and Nicky the Tongue keeps his distance. Look at this picture of him. He posed for it last time he came. Thinks I have talent. Said I really caught him. He looks mean but cool, eh? Like a hockey player. And he used to play Junior “B” Hockey, but hurt his foot, the normal one. The other one has something called a cleft. I don’t know anything about that sort of stuff. He won’t let me look at either foot and that’s fine by me. I was never into feet. Guys have ugly feet if you ask me. What a turnoff. But back to Tony. Okay, so he’s mean, I am not going to say he’s not. Call a spade a spade. He can get rough if I push his buttons.

Oh yeah. I know, I know. Don’t stay in that abusive relationship, girl. Get out of there. But it isn’t that simple, ask anyone who’s been there. And Tony has a real sweet side. Honestly. He can be a big Teddy bear sometimes. Just a big old huggy bear. Especially after we make love. He likes it rough when we make love, sure, puts me through the wringer, I’ll say, but afterwards he’s cuddly and all soft-like. I just love him to pieces at those times.

I don’t care what y’all say. I know what I’m in for, I know. But let me say this: I’m not into wimps. I hate little bitch men who I can push around. Just slap them around, you know. Like go to a fancy restaurant and order the lobster, then send it back and then not eat it at all, and then order the chateaubriand for two even though buddy just polished off a porterhouse steak. If I did that to Tony he’d fix my wagon. Not that he ever takes me out. I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like he’s embarrassed by me. But I can’t let that bother me.

My mama once said that all men are devils.



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