Episode 13 - Familiarity Breeds Contempt
Midge woke up, her head pounding. She wondered why the hell she was asleep on her couch and why her head was mummified by a bandage. She let herself slowly become conscious and it all came back to her. She remembered ruefully the mullet and the champagne bottle and the visit to the emergency room. She couldn't recall how she got home however and dragged herself into her bathroom to survey the damage.
She carefully unwound the bandage and removed the gauze padding. It was stuck to her hair by dried blood, not too much, she thought thankfully. She maneuvered her head and a small hand mirror so she could see her reflected reflection in her bathroom mirror. There were ugly stitches in the back of her head and a small bald patch where they had obviously shaved her.
Oh well, she thought, I was thinking about going real short anyways. She was still pissed off as she had just got a hair cut the day before her performance to look a bit more Ricky-ish. She took a few asprin and headed to her bedroom.
Paulie was recieving a bit of emergency treatment from the ambo and she shut the door quickly. She suddenly remembered why she was on the couch. Paulie had been crashing over far too frequently with his boi toys of late and she made a mental note to set some boundaries: When one is concussed and sutured, one gets to sleep in their own bed.
Midge checked the time. She had been out cold for the day and it was now 5pm. She was lucky she was on her days off. She wondered how she was going to explain her stitched noggin to her duty sergeant. She was already on his shit list for being the local gay and lesbian liason officer. Midge had over heard him in the locker room telling some rookies that he thought all fags deserved a beating and all dykes needed was a good dick to set them straight. Midge thought he needed a good beating on his dick.
Her headache subsided to a dull throbbing and she considered eating. The thought made her feel nauseaus but she made herself some toast regardless. She hadn't eaten since the previous day.
Paulie and the paramedic emerged from the bedroom with Paulie sporting a look of satisfaction and the ambo looked rather sheepish. She glared at them and continued nibbling on her toast. Paulie gave her a cuddle, oblivious to her obvious chagrin.
'How are we feeling, lovey?' he asked and stole some of her toast.
'A bit stiff from lying in a coma on my sofa, Paulie.' He ignored the remark and oohedand ahhed about her wound. The ambo felt the tension and asked if he could call a taxi. Midge pointed towards the phone, 'Be my guest.'
The ambo had the decency to blush humbly and asked what the address was. She told him shortly and he called his cab. He thanked Midge for her hospitality and waited out the front for his ride. Paulie didn't bother seeing him out.
He draped himself across her couch,
'What a perfectly marvelous day, Midge. He was such a treasure.' he gloated.
Midge ground her teeth,
'Paulie, has it ever occured to you to get your own place? I'm really getting sick of you using my bedroom whenever you feel the urge. I have washed three sets of sheets alone this week.'
'Well it seems to me that your bedroom is far from an active environment as far as you are concerned. You a bit jealous, lovey?' he snapped back.
Midge stormed into her room and gathered his belongings. She threw them at him.
'Get out!' she demanded, 'Go sponge off someone else. See how long they put up with you.'
Paulie picked up his things and minced to the door,
'Well if that's the way you want to be, I'll gladly leave,' he shouted back, 'Just remember who sat with you all night while you got your head sewn up.'
'You only stuck around so you could land the ambo, you little prick.' she retorted. He flung open the door and exited dramatically, slamming it behind him.
He stood on her doorstep considering his predicament. He saw Tom from apartment 3 and called out to him, waving and smiling. Tom wasn't the best looking guy on the block but he was always up for a bit of company. Paulie caught up to him and hooked his arm in Tom's and lead him into the apartment.
Midge set about changing her sheets, her head throbbing fit to split. Paulie was right in a sense. It had been ages since she had someone in her bed. She yearned to wake up held in someone else's arms. Her last intimate experience...if you could call it that..was a bout of drunken snogging with Chloe last year at the Prince of Wales. Chloe hadn't given her the time of day after that. Midge suspected that the only reason Chloe had played tonsil hockey with her was to piss off her ex, who watched from the bar, glaring daggers at the pair of them.
She shuddered at the thought. She lay down on her freshly made bed and pulled her Tickle Me Elmo close and sobbed. Her heart ached for the touch of another woman.
to be continued... |
