“Aye Jennie? Did you see what this bugger posted on your bloggie? Aye?” Rita said blowing out a puff of smoke and twisting the laptop around.
Jennie was putting on the finishing touches of mascara in the tiny lavy off her breakfast nook. “What’s it say Ri? Another perv wankin’ up his johhny to my pic? The one wit’ the bustier and pearls? Maybe I oughta let Rico have a see—no? He’ll look ‘em up like he did the last john that thought he’d be cute and run off without settlin’!” she mused.
“Nah. I think you need to have a looksie. This one is prattin’ on about a seahorse. Real kinky mate—aye!” She took another drag off her cigarette and blew it up in to the air. “He wants ya to ‘ave another go round at his Seahorsey! Wankin’ up his Seahorsey! Wank it! Wank it good! ‘Member Saltnpeppa? Those B’s really knew how to shake it!” she laughed.
“What’s that you said Ri?” she said dropping the mascara in the sink.
“A seahorsey! You heard it! Heard it right you did! Where do these blokes come up wit this stuff Jens? Aye, that brings back a memory. Did I ever tell you about my bro Gordon? When he was lil, mama used to call his johnny a horsey. I mean really? A horsey?” she chuffed. “No wonder kids grow up all screwy. It’s called a penis! PEEEEENNNUUUUSS! She used to say, ‘Gordo! You best be scrubbin’ up that horsey, yah hear? We don’t put no saddles on dirty horseys!’ He used to get the biggest kick outta that. He’d start splashin’ about makin’ horsey sounds! Awww—I miss dear ole mum,” Rita sighed. “She’d turn round an round in ‘er grave if she could get a wink at ole Gordo now. He’s light in the loafers if yah know what I mean. Apples to oranges if’n yah ask me. But the ole folks and their ways, it’s why the lot of ‘em turn out pervs, surpressin’ all that pent up desire. But I gots to say Jens, it brings a whole new meanin’ to the horsey and saddle. I bet Gordo’d show us a trick or ten about ridin’ the ole horsey! Hee—Haw! Hee—Haw!!”
“Seahorse….” Jennie said fumbling for the fallen mascara.
“Yeah—somthin’ about how he used to take the trolly down the port and you used to get down on his seahorsey. Real comical kink, aye? Give it a read Jennie. He’s blouy. He goes on and on about how he’s longed for this day when he’d find his daisy. That it’s still not too late. He says come meet ‘im for a ride! It’s a real pip!”
“Daisy..” she said trailing off, staring at her face in the mirror. It was caked on with makeup. Just like they like. “Did you say Daisy, Ri?” She stopped fumbling for the mascara and looked back up in the mirror at her face. A strand of hair had fallen over her eyes and stuck to her blood red lipstick. She tucked the hair gently behind her ear and took a deep breath as she closed her eyes.
“That’s right,” Rita said getting concerned. “What of it Jenners? You’re buggin’ me out. You know this bloke? He do something you didn’t like? You better let Rico know. Don’t do nothing foolish girlie. We ain’t needin’ to handle that shit! Rico can find him like the last one.”
Jennie opened her eyes and took one last hard look in the mirror before she turned on the tap and scrubbed her face clean until it turned bright pink.
“Hey! Whoa—whoa! What’s goin’ on Jenners? It just took you the better part of an hour to get all sassed up? Rico’s got that client coming over in fifteen. The one that likes all the paint—hell, whom I kiddin’? They all like the paint! Imagine? Imagine they saw us wit out it Jenners? Lookin’ all scifi! All Horrow-warrow! Rico’d skin our tails! No need peddlin’ em no more.” she laughed. “You better start workin’ that paint up girl! Get it back on!”
She looked at Jennie when she didn’t hear any laughter. Her back was to Rita and she was still in the lavy. “Jennie? What gives girlie? I know I ain’t no Comedy Central or nothin’, but give a girl a chance. Not even a mercy chuckle?
“Ri, I have to go. I’m—sorry. I’m just so sorry. Tell Rico I’m sorry,” she said as she made her way to the door. Tears began to trickle from the corners of eyes. With her hand on the knob as she opened the door, she stopped to stare at the picture on the wall beside it.
“Jennie. What gives lass? Seriously? Rico’s gonna be way pissed if you bail on this bloke. And you know what that means. What’s going on? Why you lookin’ at that pic like that? Didn’t you get that at some yard sale? Really Jennie. Stop playin’.”
The picture was of a man and a little girl with a big daisy in her hair riding the merry-go-round. He was holding her by the waist as she danced on top of the carousel horse with the seashell saddle.
“No, Rita. I didn’t. I didn’t get it at a yard sale,” she said just before she closed the door behind her.