Diary of a Mad Fat Girl

by Stephanie McAfee

  He looks a little confused at first, then starts smiling like some kind of celebrity pervert, like it’s all part of the game for him. When he finally recognizes Lilly, he jumps straight up out of his padded red chair, throwing his lap dancer to the floor, and the nipple masseuse wastes no time disappearing into the crowd.

  Lilly slings the strap around her neck so the camera dangles down her back and continues walking toward Richard Stacks, who looks like a hunter about to destroy his prey. The bouncers are a few steps from Lilly when she draws back and punches Richard Stacks in the jaw with her right fist then hurls her left straight into his gut. When he bows over, she slams her bony knee into his face and sends his head flying back in the opposite direction. As the bouncers wrap their meaty fingers around her skinny arms, she raises her left foot and plants that leopard print stiletto into his right thigh. His scream pierces the air above and beyond the deafening music and everyone turns to observe the spectacle.

  I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I know I’ve got to get the hell out of there as fast as I can. I get to an exit door just as the bouncers shove Lilly into the parking lot where she stumbles and falls onto the pavement. I run over to help her up and the bouncers scowl and shake their heads in disgust. Like we’re the white trash.

  “Stupid cunts,” the uglier of the two yells. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  I hear thunder and look up at the sky but don’t see any clouds then the thunder rolls behind me and I turn to see a flock of leather clad men on Harley-Davidsons pulling into the parking lot.

  “It’s the 300,” I holler at Lilly and she squints at me like she’s blind. “They’ve come to save us.”

  “What?” she yells. “What?”

  “Nothing!“ I yell. “Let’s go!”

  On the way to the car, we receive more than a few appreciative looks, head nods, and winks from the Men of the Motorcycle Mob. I bet they wouldn’t be so impressed if they knew we were wearing men’s dresses. Ha.

  I press the unlock button on my keyless remote just as the door of Ladies4Gentlemen flies open and Richard Stacks comes running out into the parking lot, cussing like a mad man. Which clearly, he is.

  “Get in the car,” I say and unlock and relock and unlock the doors but they refuse to open. We are standing next to a white Maxima, but it’s not my white Maxima because I don’t have a clothes rack and a brief case in the back seat.

  “Wrong car!” I scream and start looking around for mine. I don’t see it so I press the panic button and the alarm goes off and I realize it’s on the other side of the parking lot. “Shit, you got thrown out a different door! C’mon!”

  I kick off my heels and start running like my ass is on fire. Richard Stacks catches me just as I reach my car and he spins me around and slaps me in the face so hard I see stars. Lilly runs to my rescue only to be met with a swift backhand that knocks her to the ground. Richard steps over her and tries in vain to jerk his wife’s camera off of the strap while Lilly flops like a fish and screams at the top of her lungs. I’m about to jump on his back and lodge the heel of my shoe in the base of his skull when a large tattooed arm reaches out and grabs Richard Stacks by the hair.

  The Biker Man pulls him off of Lilly, who, while getting back on her feet, screams a string of obscenities that would make a sailor blush. She falls silent when she sees the Motorcycle Men circled around us with their muscled up arms crossed, looking mean as hell.

  “You like to slap women around, you fat little fucker?” the Biker Man roars at Richard and the sound of knuckles reminds me of microwave popcorn.

  “Put me down right now, you scumbag!” Richard Stacks yells at the Biker Man and I silently marvel at his stupidity.

  “Scumbag? I’m the scumbag?” the Biker Man yells and his comrades roar with laughter. “Scumbags don’t do this to women,” he says and backhands Richard Stacks across the face and I start to fall in love with him because he is one bad ass dude, plus he looks like the lead singer of Metallica. “So I think you qualify as the scumbag.”

  “You leave him alone this instant!” a small, shaky voice cries from outside the circle of the Motorcycle Mob. “You do not lay another hand on him or I will sue you for all you’re worth, which probably isn’t much.”

  “And who are you, little lady?” Biker Man asks when he sees Lester Finks, Richard Stacks’ long time friend and lawyer, glaring up at him with beady, red-rimmed eyes.

  “I’m his lawyer, you filthy sack of shit,” Finks spouts, puffing out his chest, “and you’re going to jail.”

  “What is this?” Biker Man asks, “a citizen’s arrest?” and the Mob roars with laughter once again. The biker closest to Lester picks him up, raises him over his head, and passes him off to his buddy. I watch in silent awe as the Biker Men toss Lester Finks around like a rag doll while the reluctant crowd surfer screams like a little girl.

  “Lawyer man,” Biker Man asks, “you got a wife?”

  “I-I‘m not married,” Finks yells as he’s rolled over in the air again.

  “Oh, yes he is married,” Lilly offers. “He’s got a sweet little wife and three little kids at home.”

  “And a dog,” I say and, realizing my opportunity, add, “and that piece of shit over there,” I point to where Richard Stacks is huddled behind my rear bumper, “beat his wife so bad she had a miscarriage.”

  The Motorcycle Mob gets quiet and, for a second, the only sound in the air is the music thumbing its way out of the club. The biker holding Lester drops him and turns his attention to Richard Stacks, who is attempting to crawl underneath my car.

  “You beat a pregnant woman?” Biker Man reaches down, grabs him by the foot, and pulls him out from under the car.

  “She don’t know what the hell she’s talking about,” Lester Finks crows, then flinches and takes a few steps back as the Biker Men turn their attention to him. “He didn’t know she was pregnant.”

  “Well,” Biker Man growls, “that just makes it all better doesn’t it, little lady?” He glares at Lester Finks. “Do you want me to tell you how I feel about that?”

  “Uh, no sir,” Lester Finks mumbles, apparently having lost all of his balls during his crowd surfing. “I think I know. As a matter of fact, I’m sure I know.”

  I hear sirens and Biker Man looks at Richard Stacks then back at Lester Finks and they cower together like scared puppies.

  “Saved by the sirens,” he growls, “but we’ll keep an eye out for you two little titty-babies and see that you both get what’s coming to you.” Biker Man looks at me, “Hey, doll, what’s your name?”

  “Ace,” I say, shaking with fear, excitement, and admiration. “Ace Jones.”

  “Ace,” he smiles, “I like that.” He reaches into the pocket of his leather vest and pulls out, of all things, a business card. “Give me a call sometime, sweetheart.”

  “Okay,” I say, taking the card and smiling from ear to ear. Turns out he owns a construction company.

  “Let’s go guys,” he says and our saviors hustle into the strip club.

  Lilly stares after them with an agitated look on her face, no doubt wondering why no one gave her a business card.

  “C’mon, let’s get out of here, Lilly.”

  I get in the car and hear Buster Loo growling like bear in the back seat. I look in my rear view mirror and see Finks and Stacks engaged in what appears to be a heated argument. I’m fantasizing about mowing them down when Richard Stacks steps around, jerks the passenger door open, and starts pulling at the camera again.

  “I’ve had enough!” I scream. “I have had enough of this shit!”

  I take the Pink Lady out of the console and get out of the car. When Lester sees the gun in my hand, he takes off running in a dead sprint toward the street. I know the police will be here any minute, but I stay the course. I walk up to Richard and press the barrel of the Pink Lady against his skull.

  “I will blow your fucking brains out right here if you don’t get your fucking hands off of her.
” He continues to wrestle with Lilly so I pull back the hammer and finger the trigger. I glance down and see that Buster Loo has joined the fray by snarling and snapping at Richard’s arm. When he slaps Buster Loo into the back seat, I spin the gun around and smash the butt of it against his temple three times. Pop. Pop. Pop. I slam Lilly’s door shut and turn around to see an officer approaching me with his weapon drawn and I imagine a red dot floating between my eyes.

  “Hold it right there, ma’am,” the officer yells. “Drop your weapon.”

  I drop the Pink Lady in the parking lot of Ladies4Gentlemen.

  33

  “Jones and Lane,” the jailer booms and his deep voice bounces back and forth between the cinder block walls creating an ominous echo.

  “Right here, sir,” Lilly calls, waving through the cell bars.

  I look up and see Mason McKenzie and Ethan Allen Harwood staring at us, eyes as wide as saucers. Mason looks like he’s about to crack up and Ethan just looks shocked. Really shocked.

  “What the hell?” Ethan says as he takes in the wigs, the dresses, the stilettos.

  “Been tryin’ to hustle up a little extra cash?” Mason asks and starts giggling.

  “Oh thank God y’all are here,” Lilly gushes and rushes out of the cell as soon as the jailer opens the door. “I was starting to feel like Paris Hilton and I think they were about to make us strip and put on some of those nasty orange scrubs!”

  Mason and Ethan look me up and down as I exit the cell.

  “Just don’t,” I mumble. “Don’t say a word and please tell me I can get my gun and the camera back tonight.”

  “The gun and the camera,” Mason says with exaggerated bravado. “Yes, those items are waiting to be picked up, Miss Double-Oh-Seven.”

  “We have to get back to the car. I’m sure Buster Loo’s little doggie nerves are completely shot by now.”

  “It’s only been a couple of hours, Ace,” Lilly says, clearly trying to make me feel better, “and he’s got his furry little bed back there in the back floorboard so don’t worry, he’s fine.”

  Lilly and I pick up our personal effects from a guard who looks like he’d offer us fifty dollars if he had it and the four of us walk out the front door of the Shelby County Jail.

  “Y’all wanna stop at a truck stop and take a shower?” Mason asks after we climb into his Escalade. “Maybe turn a few tricks, make a few bucks.”

  “Lot lizards,” Ethan drawls and shakes his head. “That’s exactly what y’all look like. Y’all look like two lot lizards.”

  “Very high end lot lizards,” Mason adds.

  “Take us to a hotel,” Lilly orders. “Did y’all come prepared to spend the night?”

  “We came prepared to spend this night and the next one too ‘cause we are men,” Ethan says with much pomp and circumstance, “and men are always prepared to spend the night,” he turns around and eyeballs Lilly and me, “’specially after we pick us up a few hookers at the jail house.”

  “Which club did y’all say you were stripping-I mean stalking tonight?” Mason asks.

  “Ladies4Gentlemen,” Lilly says and laughs at Mason’s stupid joke. “Just off Airways on Winchester.”

  “What in holy hell were y’all doing off in that part of town lookin’ like y’all do?” Ethan demands.

  “Stalking Richard Stacks,” I say.

  “Well, was it worth it?” Mason asks.

  “I guess we won’t know until we see how Chloe reacts to this,” I say and hand the camera to Ethan.

  “Good word,” Ethan says, “that ain’t no way for a married man to act right there.”

  “No,” I say, “and that’s the least of his transgressions.”

  Ladies4Gentleman is still rocking at 2 a.m. and Buster Loo is indeed curled up and napping in his little fluffy bed. Both guys hop out of the Escalade and Ethan walks around to the driver’s side.

  “What are y’all doing?” I ask.

  “I’m driving you,” Mason says, matter-of-factly, “and Lilly is riding with Ethan and we are going to the Peabody.”

  “What, Mason, are you serious?” Lilly asks excitedly, turns on her stiletto heel, and hops in the front seat of the Escalade.

  “Yes, you girls have been through a lot and I know you’re tired and I think you’re both very brave for what you did tonight, even if it was a tad bit stupid, so I got a room at the Peabody. Reserved it on the way up here.”

  “How did you know we were planning to spend the night?”

  “Common sense, Ace,” he replies simply. “That’s it. Just good ol’ fashioned common sense.”

  I get in the passenger side of my car and immediately start sulking because I feel like a teenager who just got chastised by her parents in front of her friends. I silently pray for the ability to start keeping my smart mouth shut.

  “Ace,” he says, after ten minutes of riding in silence, “can we just be friends? Can you just give me that, at least?”

  “Of course,” I say, looking out the window.

  “Thank you,” he says, “and can I tell you that you look smokin’ hot in that outfit?”

  “Can I tell you that it’s a man’s dress?”

  “Well,” he looks at me, wide-eyed and mischievous, then in his Forrest Gump voice says, “well, I just don’t know what to say about tha-at.”

  While Mason checks into the Peabody Hotel, I walk around admiring the grandiose lobby and wondering if the ducks ever parade around at 3 a.m. Just as a security officer starts to give me the evil eye, Mason appears, takes my arm, and leads me to the elevator.

  “She’s with me, sir,” he says with a wink, “half price after midnight.” This gets a nod and a chuckle from the guard who turns and goes on his way.

  “You understand that I have to have a shower?” I say as soon as we walk in the room.

  “Oh, please,” he says with a smile, “please, do you nasty girl.”

  Two seconds after I get out of the shower, there is a knock on the door and Mason peeps through the hole and, in a very loud voice, says he didn’t order any prostitutes and if he did he would’ve asked for two women, not a hot chick and tall, ugly dude.

  When Lilly and Ethan are finally permitted to enter the room, I’m pleased to see that they have picked up beer and pizza. We tear into that business like four pigs feasting on fresh slop.

  “We’ve still got time to cut a little rug at the Rum Boogie before the sun comes up,” Lilly says and I moan in protest. Ethan walks out of the bathroom looking rather odd but very comfortable in basketball shorts and a tee shirt. He stretches out on the bed and asks Lilly if she’s crazy and she resigns herself to the shower in defeat.

  I finish off another piece of pizza and give Buster Loo the crust then grab another beer and crawl into bed with Mason. The male reasoning in the bed assignments was that we would sleep with people we’ve slept with before no matter how long it had been. And Mason paid for the room, so how could I argue?

  “Do not touch me,” I say and wiggle in between the covers.

  “C’mon baby, put that blonde wig and that man dress back on and let me spoon you,” he says and Ethan starts laughing.

  Lilly comes out of the bathroom and snuggles up in the bed beside Ethan, who smiles and pulls the covers over them both.

  “Hey you two, don’t be getting frisky over there,” Mason says.

  “Don’t worry,” Ethan replies, turning off the lamp. “I don’t like girls that wear man dresses.”

  34

  I wake up the next morning and Buster Loo is snoring on my shoulder and Mason McKenzie is spread over me like a human blanket. I slide out of bed, look across the room, and see that Lilly and Ethan are gone.

  I get up and start the coffee maker, then decide to take another shower because I still feel dirty from wearing that drag queen dress and going into that filthy club. When I emerge from the bathroom, Mason is leaning back on the pillows, watching ESPN.

  He looks at me and smiles, then pats the bed and rais
es his eyebrows a few times.

  “Thank you,” I say, ignoring the invitation. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Thank you for not being so mean,” he says.

  “You want some coffee?” I ask.

  “Love some,” he says. I pour him a cup and join him on the bed. He drapes his arm around me and we sit there drinking coffee and watching Sports Center and I hope he can’t feel the vibrations of my heart which feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest.

  He leans over, puts his empty cup on the night stand, then turns and looks me right in the eye. I sit there, petrified, hoping. He takes my head in his hand and pulls my face next to his and I’m sure that I am going to faint. Instead of kissing me, he buries his face in my wet hair and I swallow a sigh of disappointment.

  “Oh, I love the way you smell,” he whispers then looks me in the eye again and I think I’m going to pass out this time for sure. He takes my face in his hand, then sniffs my hair on the other side, brushing my neck with his lips as he pulls back.

  I start fantasizing about crawling on top of him when the door flies open, Buster Loo goes nuts, and Lilly and Ethan come in with coffee and doughnuts.

  “Uh, did we interrupt something?” Lilly asks, smiling.

  “Oh Lilly, you wish,” Mason says and I wish my cheeks would stop burning.

  “Hey,” Ethan says, “we got y’all a little snack and some good coffee. I can’t drink this crap in the room.”

  An hour later, the four of us stroll down Beale Street, taking in the sights and the heavy scent of stale beer. Buster Loo puffs his chest out like a big dog, then tries to pee on a statue of Elvis.

  We walk down by the river, then to back to the hotel to get our bags and check-out. Mason decides a trip to Tunica is in order, so we head down that way to partake in a little gambling and big breakfast buffet.

  I’m chowing down on gravy and biscuits when I get a text message from Gloria Peacock inviting Lilly and me to The Waverly Estate. I accept and she immediately sends a message extending the invitation to Mason and Ethan. I accept for them as well and can’t help but wonder if she already knows about our little fiasco. Regardless, I can’t wait to tell her the whole story.