Mimi's Journal

Hmm... This is my first time ever writing something... well... y'know? (And being a rather immature writer, as well as an immature person, this would probably be kinda bad.) I was definitely too lazy to edit it or do anything with it...

But I'm thinking of building a collection of random stories like this if it turns out good. (And in all honesty, I don't think I will anymore... >.>;;; I just really needed a title).

I wonder if it was just a figment of my imagination. A couple of years ago, I suddenly decided to start writing a journal with the intention of having it published a couple centuries later as "an accurate and typical account of the 21st century teenager". It was a foolish thought, really. Typical? I was dead afraid of people, especially boys. What typical person is paranoid about her own species?

It had been a dusty old volume in my grandfather's library where I dealt years of lung damage to myself, scouring for fairytales. I'd stopped going after third grade, but when stress was about to kill me in my junior year, that blank book and the explosion of a stupid idea saved my sanity. Thus the years of daily dust-breathing resumed. I'm not as much of a cool-headed, lone-wolf character as people mistake me for... but for some reason, whenever I get shy, I act like a total asshole. Maybe I just wanted to be strong and I thought boyish clothes and some good acting could get me there. I didn't think there could be anyway my long hair and c-cups would be ignored.

Guess what? I was dead wrong.

She was nearly five inches taller than me, standing at a graceful 5' 8"and boosted even closer to the ceiling of that odd bar with a set of 4-inch stilettos. God, she was the most gorgeous, large-breasted, knife throwing cabaret girl I had ever seen... and probably the only one. It's not every day that your motorbike suddenly runs low on gas on a solo road trip, and by the time you get to the nearest city, you realize that nobody takes American Express anymore.

So there I was. Just me, about ten dollars in cash, no way to get gas in my tank, and this beautiful goddess in a strapless red dress rubbing her E-cups against my arm. I was probably so dehydrated from the Arizonian summer sun that it never occurred to read the fine print at the entrance. She was like a huge, blonde cat who caught a scraggly little me and decided I'd make a fun toy.

"Never been to a lesbian bar?"

I wasn't about to answer that. It was rhetorical anyway, and she seemed to be having fun.

"What do you think?"

"Huh? Oh, it's... nothing special." I muttered and looked away, wondering if I could just order a cup of juice or something and ask for a bank that'd actually take my credit card.

She laughed... and damn, her teeth were blindingly white. "Not the bar, silly. These" And as she bounced her massive assets, her mildly tanned and flawless skin filled my vision to the edges. I could've sworn that she was teasing me, but as much as I wanted