Chapter 2 NOT ‘CHO ALIEN DATING PROFILE
NOT ‘CHO ALIEN DATING PROFILE
There are some actions requiring a person to be either very brave or very stupid, with only the end result determining which of the two it was—or so Sally thought as she sat staring at the ‘new profile’ screen of the Human-Extraterrestrial Liaison Program’s dating app.
The H.E.L.P. website stared back at her, daring Sally to fill it out and see what sort of alien appendages awaited her on the other side of the ‘submit’ button.
She was on her third glass of Boon’s Farm red, and while the wine was certainly helping with the ‘stupidity’ side of things, it wasn’t providing her coherent answers to fill in the blanks.
“Why did I decide to do this again?” she muttered, slurping loudly from her red solo-cup wine glass. They’d been a gag gift for her birthday a few years back, but had become her non-ironic favorites. She called them her ‘Big Girl’ glasses.
“Aliens!” Llewellyn answered with a happy chirp as she tipped the oven door closed with the heel of her foot. “Hot, sexy aliens with penises Earth men can only dream about!”
The perky brunette slid the still-steaming tray of nachos into the middle of the kitchen table and plopped down into the chair next to her friend. She then snorted and tugged the laptop out of Sally’s hands.
“You’re terrible at this,” she griped, erasing ‘rides horses’ and replacing it with ‘Three-time winner of the Texas Rose Rodeo Championship’.
“I told you I hate dating apps,” Sally whined, letting her friend tinker. “I never know what to put! Besides, it’s not like they’re going to know what the Texas Rose is.”
“Well they can google it! Or whatever the ‘google’ equivalent is on alien internet. And anyway that’s why you’re supposed to put pictures.”
Sally grimaced. “I ain’t lettin’ you put my face up there while I’m shit-faced.”
Llewellyn rolled her eyes, casually hitting the button to add photos. She clicked through Sally’s computer files like a pro before settling on several professional-looking shots taken by reporters during one of Sally’s competitions.
“Those are old,” Sally complained. “Am I wearing makeup? That’s gotta be from at least 5 years ago, Lou, I cain’t put those!”
A brief battle for the keyboard ensued before Llewellyn resorted to tickling. Sally shrieked with offended laughter, then shot from the table and launched herself through the narrow confines of the double-wide and into the bathroom.
“Oh mah gahd, woman! YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME PISS MYSELF!”
Llewellyn chuckled with mischievous satisfaction, uploaded a few more pictures, then hit ‘save’.
“You’re an evil woman, Llewellyn Grace!” Sally’s muffled complaint filtered through the bathroom door and up the hall to the tiny dining table.
Lou grinned, hollering back, “I think you mean I’m a ‘bad, bad girl’!”
The door clattered open, a tipsy Sally leaning on the wall a moment for support. She rolled her eyes, hiding a grin.
“What would your mother think,” Sally joked.
“Hey, don’t forget, my mother was the one who lent us ‘Old Town Ho-Down’. She’d think I was doin’ you a favor and that we needed to get you in a bikini for a few of these pictures!”
Sally’s face flamed almost as red as her hair. She’d managed to suppress all memories of ‘Old Town Ho-Down’. Mostly.
“I’d forgotten about that travesty,” she muttered, flopping back down and dragging a pile of nachos onto her plate. Mouth full, she cronched happily through the cheesy, chili-covered goodness.
“Oh please,” Llewellyn snorted, snagging a chip off Sally’s plate while she typed. “It wasn’t that bad as far as porn goes. And besides, I know you enjoyed it; I heard your vibrator goin’ at least three times after we went to bed that night!”
“Oh mah gahd, Lou!” Sally buried her face in her hands, dying of embarrassment.
“What? The walls in this trailer hide nothin’, you know that!”
“But you don’t have ta’ talk about it!”
Llewellyn grinned her brightest ‘best friend gonna give you guff forever’ grin. She spun the laptop screen back to Sally. “Ok, what do you think about this?”
Sally wrinkled her nose as she crunched and scrolled.
Nothing was getting between her and her nachos, not even a dating profile for potentially hot, sexy aliens.
Rolling her eyes, she erased ‘can swallow entire hot-dog in one go’, but left ‘very good with knots’.
That one was at least a practical skill.
“Remind me again why I let you talk me inta this?”
“Because Chet and I are practically engaged—if he ever grows the balls t’ ask me—Tracy isn’t dating men, and you’ve already been through the entire rodeo pool twice over?
” Llewellyn batted her eyelashes innocently, giving Sally a shit-eating grin.
“And because you’re a really good friend who has nothing better to do on a Friday night other than to entertain me? ”
“Oh. Yes. Absolutely nothin’ better to do,” Sally deadpanned, deleting the photo of herself sharp-shooting upside-down between her legs. Lou leaned against her shoulder and pouted.
“Aww, come on, that was a good one!”
“The aliens don’t need to be starin’ at my ass right off the bat, Lou.”
“What, like they’re gonna know what an ‘ass’ is??”
“Well I’m assumin’ they have some kinda comparable biology, else-wise it would’na made sense for ‘em to reach out to us, would it?”
“Well I guess we’ll find out when you submit your profile and let us go lookin’, won’t we?”
“I ain’t downloadin’ no alien ass pics on my computer—”
Their playful bickering was interrupted by pounding knocks on the outside of the trailer. Tracy’s voice called in through the open screen of the tiny window on the door.
“Let me in, ya varmints! I brought the wieners! Oh, and Chet’s here too, I guess.”
An indignant “Hey!” came through in Chet’s voice as Llewellyn wriggled up from around the table to open the door.
A bubbly, bottled blonde with big hair bounced her way up the steps, depositing her goods into the tiny fridge and around the miniscule counter space as though she lived there.
Chet followed, his lanky frame ducking down to avoid the door frame.
He held up his bags in self defense, goods in offering to the perpetually hungry rodeo riders.
“I brought snacks!”
The kettlecorn, twizzlers, and double stuffed oreos were snatched almost as fast as they appeared, the three girls cooing in appreciation. Llewellyn leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, her mouth already full of cookie. A pat on his rear followed.
“Knew you were good for somethin’ besides awesome dick!” she told him around her mouthful of snackage.
Chet rolled his eyes, but grinned. Their late-night post-show get togethers had taught him pretty quickly just how feral his gals could get when they were hungry and tired from performing all day. The one time he hadn’t shown up with food, they’d nearly eaten him, and not in the fun way.
“Quit makin’ out in my doorway and let the boy in, Lou!” Sally hollered at them, rescuing her laptop (and her nachos) from the sudden flood of snack bags on the table.
Several chaotic minutes later and a round of chili-cheese dogs joined the table roughage, disappearing with impressive swiftness into the bellies of the four friends doing the eating.
Sally could, in fact, swallow an entire hot dog in one go, but refused to do so when offered the delectable flavorings of Tracy’s chili.
“Sal-ly! Sal-ly! Sal-ly!” Llewellyn's enthusiastic chanting was cut off by Sally’s forceful ‘NO’ on the subject. A round of boo’s erupted from everyone, including Sally, making them all crack up in laughter.
“I ain’t wastin’ good chili on tricks!” Sally tossed out when she could breathe again.
“But think of the PICTURE!” Lou slapped her hand on the table in excitement. “We could teach those aliens a thing or three!”
“Wait, y’all were serious about that?” Chet put in, rescuing his cup from Llewellyn's excited gesticulating. He then rescued hers and moved them both out of range as she got really fired up.
“Of COURSE we were serious about that! When have we ever NOT been serious about Sally’s love life?” Lou scoffed at him, then dove across the table to grab the laptop from Sally.
A general screech of protest went up from all involved as popcorn went flying and the nearly empty nacho tray slid dangerously half off the table’s edge. Llewellyn plopped down happily, her misbegotten gains balanced in her lap. She looked up, feeling the multiple glares aimed in her direction.
“What?!”
“You’re cleanin’ that up,” Sally griped, pointing to the spilled popcorn that had scattered across the entire kitchen floor.
“Nearly had chili on my brand new shirt,” Tracy muttered in annoyance. She gestured at Chet to hand her the apron hanging on a peg just behind his head. He obliged.
“Oh shush. You spent a dollar fifty on that thang. I’d have bought you another one!” Lou huffed, turning her attention back to the profile screen.
“Yeah, I paid a dollar fifty on the shirt, Lou. Paid a lot more for the sparkles and patches I put on to juj it up! Swarovski ain’t cheap and neither is—”
“—lookin’ like a winner. Yeah, yeah, I know! Just calm your titties and take a look at this. I think we’re ready to submit so we can start lookin’ at sexy aliens!”
Tracy did look, her curiosity overcoming her ire at nearly wearing her own chili. It was impossible to get Lou to take anything seriously for longer than about a minute, anyway. At least, outside the ring. Inside it, she was all focus, all the time. They all were, really.
“Sal, when were you an Olympic sharp-shooter?”
“What? Oh mah gahd! Lou, take that off there! I weren’t no Olympic sharp-shooter!”
“You were, too!”
“No, I was qualified to shoot, but I never went! Couldn’ afford to after mom passed. Had to keep Becky in school somehow.”
“How’s your sister doin’ these days?” Chet asked, breaking into the conversation.
Sally grinned. “Still recovering from popping out the twins, which I think has become her new life motto.”