If I had a red-hot poker............

Humiliation. Total and complete humiliation.
The Shit arrived with flowers and vodka and
an outstanding erection. He was pleased to
see me, I was pleased to see him. A man and
a woman. Interlocking pieces. My lovely Donna
Karen shirt lay torn on the carpet in our passion.
How I had missed him! Then......nothing. His face
seemed strained.....his erection.....gone!
"What happened?" I demanded, he had'nt even come,
it had just gone.
"Oh Becks, I'm sorry, I started to think about Estelle
and I feel shitty. She's good you know." His voice had
a pathetic whine to it.
"I don't care what she is! Where's your dick? Come on,
lets try again!" I was angry, but we could make it
good, we always did before.
"Sorry, this is a mistake. I really am sorry Becks."
"Get the fuck out of my bed! Have'nt you even heard of
Viagra?
"I have'nt got a problem, it's just I'm with the wrong
girl." He smirked.
"Oh great! Just leave, yeah?" Trembling I lit a ciggie
up, my hands were shaking so much. I felt totally
rejected and ugly. At least he left the vodka.
I phoned Ruth.
"Hello?"
"Ruthie, it's Becka, can we talk?" She must have
heard the sob in my voice. I heard her breath catch
then: "Alright, go for it."
So at least she is talking to me, first I told her about
The Shit, then I went on to say about Alan. Hoping
that she did'nt like him and that I would'nt hurt her .
"Alan's cool, he found it really funny actually. He likes
you."
"I think I like him, but he's not exactly my type is he?"
"He's nice, he's male, he does'nt smell too bad and
he has great hair-of course he's not Jeff but thats
got to be a plus."
"Maybe, but the hair? Looks like a seventies footballer!"
"He just needs a bit of a restyle. You are lucky, wished
he'd liked me best."
What could I say to that? Bless her.
I wished I could jinx The Shit, if I was a witch then he
would never get an erection again!
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Damn right!
At least Justine would'nt know, just imagine her smiling
at me. I would have to kill her.
Not smiling-thinking Becka