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I Am Woman (Laughable Love Book 1) Page 3


  “You wouldn’t do that.” she says in a low voice.

  “Oh, but I would. Try me, sister.” I reply. I wouldn’t ever really tell the full story, of course, but it still works as a threat. It’s really all I have on her besides that time she almost had sex in a McDonalds, but hey, we’ve all done questionable things in the heat of the moment. She has far more embarrassing shit on me.

  “Alright ladies… and Preston, LET’S MARCH!!!” Ashely shouts into a hot pink bullhorn. For the love of Spanx, I’m going to have to listen to that woman shout at top volume for the next four hours. I should have brought earplugs, because even this vagina won’t block out the sound. I just have to keep reminding myself that it is for a good cause, so I will do my best not to complain or be a Debbie Downer about it.

  ***

  We’ve been marching for twelve and a half hours. That’s a lie. It has been exactly fifty-three minutes, but who’s counting? We are shoulder to shoulder and in the thick of it. Feminazi insisted upon being front and center, but from where I’m standing it feels an awful lot like squished and center. Helen Reddy’s, I Am Woman, is being blasted through speakers, and the mass of people is growing more and more spirited as the song plays out.

  All along the march route there have been people of opposing viewpoints. I completely understand that they have every bit of right to be out here just as much as the group I’m with, but I always wonder if people show up just to start stuff intentionally rather than holding their own events for their own agendas. Because that is exactly what is happening. The number of things I’ve had thrown at me today is staggering. So far, the list is at: water bottle, empty Starbucks cup, half eaten bagel sans cream cheese thank goodness, a green rubber boot, a stack of church pamphlets and a hardback Holy Bible. It brings a whole new meaning to having ‘the good book’ thrown at you.

  It isn’t long before the insults being thrown back and forth are becoming worse and worse, and the main perpetrator in the crowd around me is none other than the Feminazi herself, my boss. Surprise! Sur-freaking-prise!

  “You’re going to hell, baby killers!” someone shouts from the sidewalk.

  A bit uncalled for in my opinion since I’m pretty certain killing babies and abortion isn’t even what this event is about, but I shrug it off. Sticks and stones, and all that jazz.

  “Get bent, you bitch!” I hear Ashley scream like a banshee, and my jaw drops in shock. I look to my left to see a woman in a long denim dress launch herself at Ashley, who stumbles backwards from force and in turn plows into me, causing me to stumble. It is hard enough for my accident-prone self to walk straight, let alone when my balance is thrown off by wearing this get up. I flail but am unable to stop myself from toppling over in the domino effect. I end up taking Alex down with me, and I am pretty sure that Bridgette and Tally came down too, donuts and signs flying.

  Chaos!

  I look up from where I’m laying prone on the cool city street to see a mess of bodies shoving each other and shouting. Someone steps on me and I panic as the march continues on and bodies walk forward. This is it. I’m going to die. I’m going to get trampled… stampeded. I mean, HELLO!!! Haven’t you ever seen how Mufasa dies in The Lion King? Because that is exactly what this is like! Subtract the wildebeest, insert several thousand hormonal women. After two more people trip over and land on me, I muster all of my She-Hulk strength and find my way to my knees just as I catch a floral Doc Marten to the face. That’s it! I pop up swinging my Vagina sign and yelling like I’m trying to warn off a pack of ravenous grizzly bears, and I may or may not whack a few people with my sign in the process. I’m sure they understand. People are still pushing and shoving and I see now that more opposition from the sidewalk has joined their leader in battle and it is now a full-scale female riot. I knew I should have packed the pepper spray. I hear whistles and shouting and that’s when I see it, a police officer with his gaze locked on me, headed my way. Oh shit, I’m going to get arrested!

  HUNTER:

  “These women are terrifying.” My partner, Tanner says from the truck bed we are standing on.

  I nod my agreement as my eyes continue to scan the crowd for any disruptions. We got called in this morning for an overtime shift since the numbers of this event far exceeded expectations. I’m used to working events like this being a New York City police officer, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything quite like this before. You’d think it would be every man’s dream to be caught in the middle of thousands of women – beautiful women. Because they are…all uniquely in their own way, but this…well it’s just scary.

  “I’m pretty sure they hate men.” I shout to Tanner over the roar of the chanting and girly music.

  “Nah, I think they just hate the government.” He disagrees.

  “How can you really tell? I feel like we have a lot of different agendas going on here.” I motion to the fairly peaceful crowd and laugh, and he joins in. Some of them are marching for equality at work, some for Planned Parenthood, some, I don’t think even know what is really going on since they’ve been high since the sixties.

  Tanner’s a good guy, maybe a bit of a womanizer, but a decent guy. I’ve only worked with him for a few months since I transferred units, but we get along well enough being the same age and having similar interests. We’re quickly becoming close friends.

  “Dude did you see the naked painted ladies? They had the saggiest-” Tanner’s cut off, holding his cupped hands down by his waist trying to paint a visual for me, when we hear a cacophony of screams and shouts coming from the other side of the street.

  I seek out the source, and that is when I see it. The biggest vagina I have ever seen is screaming like a lunatic and waving a giant sequined sign that says, My Vagina Does it Better. She’s beat no less than three people with her sign, and the women from the sidewalk are now throwing down with some classy looking ladies. It is utter chaos. I’m pretty sure I just saw some shoes and donuts fly.

  I look to Tanner who’s wearing a humorous expression on his face, spotting what I just did.

  “You stay here and keep your eyes peeled. I’m going to go break this up.” I shout as I hop off the trailer and start to shove my way through the rioting crowd, second guessing my idea to go in alone.

  “Be careful, Hunter! She looks like a wild one.” He shouts after me. I almost flip him off, but think better of it since I’m on duty.

  I push my way through the crowd and blow my whistle, and I swear someone just grabbed my ass. I can’t bust out the baton on a bunch of women; I’m not that much of an asshole and they could probably take me anyways. Angry mob mentality and stuff. Squaring my shoulders, I continue on.

  I’m almost there when I look up and spot the problem vagina, my eyes lock on her face, and is it wrong that all I can think is that she’s the prettiest vagina I’ve ever seen? Her wild blue eyes lock on mine and widen, and I hear her screech through her parted lips before she turns and tries to bolt in the opposite direction.

  “We’ve got a runner.” I radio Tanner

  “Give her hell.” He laughs, and I can’t understand why he’s so jovial about this. What is with him?

  She’s pushing through the crowd, her friends and this bat-shit crazy blonde lady with a bra on her head cheering her on. She almost breaks away, but I see her demise before she does – the curb. The toe of her sneaker catches and I watch in slow motion like a movie as she drops her sequined sign and her slender arms windmill out at her sides, and she starts to topple forward. I lunge forward and grab her around her waist – or labia, whichever way you want to look at it, and I hold on tight.

  She lets out a defeated groan.

  “Gotcha!” I say into her ear… or where I think her ear might be and she slumps forward.

  “You’re going to have to come with me ma’am. If you resist, I will have to cuff you. Do you understand?” I ask firmly, trying to assert my authority.

  “I was near death… It was like death throes. I didn’t start that –
it was some lady wearing a floral print dress!” she objects. Her voice is slightly high pitched and a lot desperate.

  “We’ll talk in a minute, but let’s get out of the crowd. Are you going to come quietly?” I ask to the back of her head once again.

  “Baby, I never come quietly.” She says in what I’m guessing is her best Austin Powers voice, and I have to force back the hysterical laughter that is threatening to escape me. Her dainty manicured hands fly up to cover her mouth.

  “Oh, my goodness… I did NOT mean to say that out loud. I’m so sorry. Yes, I will come with you.” she says, and she lets out a little giggle again through her hand that is still covering her mouth.

  I turn her around to face me, and study her face. She’s so fucking cute. Little button nose, wind bitten skin, pink lips and wide blue eyes with just a lock of light blonde hair peeking out the face opening.

  “Ma’am have you been drinking?” I ask studying her eyes. I know it’s only nine in the morning, but you’d be surprised at the people in this city.

  “Not yet, but if this day gets any worse, then it’s a no brainer.” She says, and I try not to smile.

  “Come with me.” I command, barely containing my own suggestive innuendo. Grabbing her slender arm firmly, I lead her back through the crowd, chirping my whistle. The crowd parts and cheers and clapping erupt on her behalf. I look at her again, and she appears to be embarrassed as I lead her over to where Tanner stands wearing a gleeful expression.

  chapter 5

  LESSON #5: ALWAYS BE A PEACEFUL PROTESTOR.

  VERITY:

  Officer Sexy. That’s what I’m going to call him in my head as long as it doesn’t betray me like it did with the Austin Power’s thing. My god, I could die. Only I would say something so freaking stupid while getting arrested. Is that what this is? I thought they had to read you your rights… am I being held unlawfully? Shit. I need to watch more Law & Order, then I’d know these things.

  I see a pair of manly hands extend towards me as Officer Sexy grabs my waist to help me up from down here. I reach for the hands and look up, only to find Tanner fucking McKenzie staring down at me with a shit eating grin. Twenty bucks says he’s the reason I’m here. I grab on with an eye roll and they hoist me up to the flatbed trailer.

  “I hate you. I hate you so much.” I say to him through clenched teeth, as he bursts out laughing. He takes out his phone and starts snapping pictures of me.

  “Hey man, you can’t do that. What the hell, Tanner?” Officer Sexy or Williams as his nametag would indicate grabs the phone from Tanner.

  “Yeah, eat shit McKenzie.” I bite out as I try to cross my arms. My attempts are futile due to the size of my labia… the costume’s not mine… just to set the record straight right now.

  “Ok, clearly I’m missing something…” Officer Williams looks back and forth between us, and I can’t stop staring at him. He’s tall with light brown hair that’s short, but effortlessly styled. From this distance, I can’t tell if his eyes are brown or hazel, but they are bright and clear. When he crosses his arms across his broad chest, I’m unable to process pretty much anything else. I’m basically paralyzed with attraction. Don’t think that’s ever happened before.

  “Ma’am I’m sorry if my partner here did something in the past to… he’s not the best with relationships of the opposite sex-” Officer Williams starts again but I cut him off mid-sentence because clearly, he’s under the impression right now that I am one of the many women Tanner McKenzie has bedded. Over my dead body.

  “Oh, trust me I know where this is going, but believe me, I wouldn’t let him touch me with a ten-foot pole. I’ve just had the displeasure of listening in while he touches every other woman in this city.”

  “Oh, please. Like you haven’t thought about what it’d be like. If you want, I could touch you with my ten-foot pole.” Tanner jokes, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Eww. No! You’re so gross.” I respond quickly.

  “So, you’re neighbors?” Officer Sexy Williams’s eyes bounce back and forth between us still trying to piece together our history.

  “Unfortunately.” I answer. “I’m sorry. That was really a misunderstanding out there.” I wave my outstretched arms towards the street. “I really am a peaceful protester!”

  “Don’t listen to her, Hunter. Verity’s insane. Certifiable. You should hear her talking to herself all the time…” Tanner trails off and I glare at him. Ok, so maybe I do talk to myself, but not more so than anyone else who lives alone. I don’t think. This is why I need a pet. Then I could talk to them, and only seem half as crazy.

  “I don’t think-” Hunter starts, but trails off when we hear someone shouting my name.

  “Verity! Verity Marie Peterson! Yoooohoooo!” my mom shouts. Wait, what? Mom? My eyes scan the crowd and fall upon my parents bobbing and weaving their way through the crowd. My mom is waving a hand full of fliers in the air to get my attention.

  “Mom? Dad?” I shout and Tanner erupts with another annoying fit of laughter.

  “You’re here with your parents?” he laughs.

  “No, I’m here for work.” I realize how ridiculous that sounds considering how I’m dressed. Because what job would you go to dressed like this?

  “Oh honey, look at you!” my mom gushes, looking up at me from the side of the trailer. “Wait? Are you in trouble?” Her eyes shift back and forth between me and the officers with a scowl.

  “Atta girl!” My dad cheers me on in jest, earning a smack to his shirt that says, ‘Her Vagina, Her Rules.’

  “Hush, Stan.” she scolds, giving him the ‘Denise Peterson’ look behind her thick rimmed, Gucci glasses, and he zips it. He knows my Mom well after thirty years of marriage.

  “Maybe just a smidge of trouble.” I hold up my thumb and forefinger, pinching an inch of air between them. “They think I incited a riot.” I shrug and my mother gasps in horror like that is the worst possible thing I could ever do. If she only knew about that one time I blindly accepted a job at a strip club in college. But you see, I didn’t realize it was a high-end strip joint until my first night on the job. It should have sent up a red flag when they asked me how good I was on a pole, but I wasn’t a quitter so I stuck it out for two whole weeks before I finally had to fess up to Big Jerry, the club owner, that I just wasn’t cut out for the stage life. In all actuality, my ass never saw the stage…it saw the backside of the bar, washing cocktail glasses…

  “That can’t be right…” she says, pulling my back from my cotton candy scented, glitter nightmare before my dad pipes in.

  “We raised our daughter to be a peaceful protestor. She’s a pacifist at heart!” he shouts over the noise, shaking his fist. Bless this goofy man and his bald spot. I wonder if he realizes how bad it’s getting, because I can see it from up here.

  “You’re going to have to do something about that baldness, Dad.” I shout pointing to the top of his head, and his hand flies up to touch it.

  “Oh, I know! See, I told you, Stan.” My mother looks over at him, standing on her tippy toes, craning her neck to get a better angle on the shiny spot.

  “If I don’t get arrested, I can come over tomorrow and help you with a treatment… Wait! Am I getting arrested?!” I shout, remembering why I’m up here in the first place. I look to Tanner and Officer Sexy Williams that I now know is, Hunter.

  Tanner just shakes his head looking at my family in disbelief, placing his hands on his hips. “Makes so much fucking sense now.” he sighs, looking up to the sky. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hunter fighting a smile.

  “So, am I getting arrested?” I prompt, and Tanner is the first to reply.

  “Yep, straight to the clink.”

  “No… you’re not getting arrested. Just be careful out there.” Hunter says to me, and the look he’s giving me sends butterflies fluttering in my tummy. No, Verity. Bad! Hunter Williams is the exact opposite of everything I have on my checklist. Yes, I do have a checklist. After striking out more
times in the game of love than Reggie Jackson did in baseball, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, even if it means denying myself of something I want. I just wish I had the same will power when it comes to food.

  chapter 6

  LESSON #6: dON’T LET YOUR BEST FRIEND MESS WITH YOUR RINGTONES.

  VERITY:

  I shuffle through my door, vagina in hand and flop on my couch in defeat. It’s only a matter of seconds before I sink into the feathery goodness and I become one with my furniture. I can’t seem to reconcile the reality of what happened today with what I actually expected to happen today. In my head, I thought I’d go and get my march on, be the voice of women around the world, and possibly win my boss’s affections in the process. So, affection might be a strong word since the only things she seems passionate about are designer clothing, feminism, and Trent, the office mail boy. A girl can dream though, right? I should have known better, because this is the life of Verity Peterson.

  I’m not sure what was worse, getting almost arrested by your nemesis and his gloriously sexy partner while wearing the world’s most embarrassing, yet startlingly accurate costume, or the fact that my parents showed up and treated me like I was a grade schooler. After we hashed out whether or not I was actually getting toted to the slammer, my parents apologized profusely for my alleged indiscretions and took me to get ice cream. Not that the ice cream was bad. No, that was good. It was the good cop, bad cop, Denise and Stan interrogation that coincided with me shoving a quadruple scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough and peanut butter cup ice cream in my trap. Thank god, the epic brain freeze of twenty seventeen saved me from having to answer at least two of their probing questions.

  I must have dozed because my phone ringing scares the bejeepers out of me when it begins to play Arms Wide Open by Creed. I’m going to kill Tally. She changed my ringtone again… she changes it to the most embarrassing shit, I swear. Last time it was I’m too Sexy by Right Said Fred.