The Helper

I arrive at a location, questioning if it’s correct.  Lights are off in every building in sight. Not a soul is around, save for a snake that weaved itself through a fence and was ascending it. I looked at the name of the destination again and figured out I was in fact in front of that business. Ok, then.

Not many moments after I verified I was at least next to the right business, and almost on top of the pin, my doubts as to which side of the building they were on were cleared up. A lady leaned into the passenger side window and asked if I was there for <name.> – Yes, yes I was. She proceeded to explain that this <gestures to girl being held up by guy> is <name> and handed me a cell phone. She said make sure she takes this with her.

I asked if she was going to puke or anything and the girl said no she’s fine, just too tired and too drunk.  I took that as a “good luck.”  The girl got in the back seat and seemed a lot more sober than I would think, for how the guy was holding her up.  Maybe it was one of those clear mind, fucked up body, situations.

So, I drive the couple miles to her apartments. The destination was just the complex, not a specific unit or even a point inside the complex. She was able to direct me and I parked in front of the stairs she lead me to.

I gave her her phone, and made sure she put it in her purse. Not sure why they didn’t just put it in her purse to begin with. I suspect it was involving her wanting to call or text somebody they didn’t want her to?  I don’t know. But either way, she got her phone back. I asked if she was going to be alright, and she assured me she would be.  She opened the door and got out.

When she stood up, she grabbed the door and for a moment I thought she was going to break her face on the edge of the door.  Having a 15 year old the same size as her, I instinctively was out my door and around to her side in a blink. I lifted her onto her feet with one hand under her tricep. She shifted and threw the arm I was holding around me and I put my arm around her back and she had much better footing that way.  I suddenly understood why he was supporting her in the same way. Must just be how she likes to be helped.

She had jello legs but was communicating perfectly well, save for some slurring. She thanked me about six thousand times in the couple hundred steps it took to get to the door. I did notice on the way, once the worry of dropping her down the stairs passed, and once the smell of alcohol got tuned out, that she smelled amazing.

Once to the door, she tried unlocking it and it was like watching a 13 year old trembling in excitement utterly fail at getting a penis in a vagina. I reached out and helped her unlock it and opened the door.  She took the doorjam for support and thanked me again. She turned around and threw her arms around me and started kissing my neck.

Now, regardless of how good she smelled under the alcohol cloud, there’s no way this was happening.  I carefully broke her hold on me and stepped back a bit.  She caught herself on the doorway and asked if I wanted to talk to her until she fell asleep.  The smile after told me, no. no way. no. Not just talk, I wasn’t born yesterday.

I thanked her and said I hope she wakes up without a hangover. I turned and flew down the stairs.  I turned around and looked back, hoping she wasn’t trying to follow me or something.  She was not in sight. The last couple dozen feet to my car I realized I was walking with a full tent pitched.

Got in the car and closed out the fare. I did a U turn instead of taking the closer exit I saw so I could see the doorway to make sure the door was shut before I left, since I couldn’t make that out from the foot of the stairs.  It was shut. Nobody was on the entryway in front, either, so she was at least inside, behind a closed door.

Jesus.

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