B.L. Miller - Crystal's Heart

"Oh, tell me about it, girlfriend. He did it last night and couldn't get two songs in a row right. Angel and I were ready to kill him." "Why do they let a loser like that run the booth when Mike's not working?"

"Because he's cheap, Crys. And as long as Rick runs the place, we're going to continue getting jerks like that."

"Tell me about it," Crystal agreed. "He told me to take my car to that pervert buddy of his and the damn thing died on me." She lit a cigarette and leaned against the makeup table. "I swear if I didn't need this job

"

"Well I'm not here for the fun of it either, Crys. Got an extra one of those?" Monica asked, pointing at the cigarette. "Thanks. I meant to stop on the way over here but I ended up running late."

"No prob."

"Anyway," the redhead paused long enough to exhale a lungful of smoke. "I'm looking around. I can't keep doing this night after night. Don't say anything to Rick, though. I don't want anyone to know until I'm sure I have this other job lined up."

"Another job doing what?"

"There's an entry level job at the office where my cousin works. It's not much, filing and answering the phone but it's better than this." Monica took another puff. "Let's face it, I'm not getting any younger and Mister Right hasn't come through that door yet."

"The only thing that comes through that door is horny old men and obnoxious punks thinking they're God's gift to women," Crystal replied before turning back to the mirror and picking up the brush to reign in an errant lock of hair. "If it wasn't for the money none of us would be here. This job sucks." A hard pounding at the door ended their conversation.

"Let's go ladies." Rick's authoritative voice boomed through the closed door. "Two minutes."

Running the brush through her hair one last time, Crystal made a final check in the mirror before turning to face Monica. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied, surprised by the tired reflection staring back at her. How much longer can I keep doing this? she asked herself. As long as men are willing to pay to see it, the reflection silently answered. "Maybe not," she mumbled.

"What?" Monica asked.

"Nothing. Let's go give the boys their thrills." She opened the door to face a fuming Rick, who ushered them quickly to the stage.

Crystal was walking around her room, picking up her dirty clothes and stuffing them into the laundry bag. With most of her belongings destroyed in the fire, the need to do laundry came often. She went downstairs to find a basket of Laura's clothes sitting on top of the washer. Hmm, must have done it last night. Moving the basket to the top of the dryer, she opened the lid and began stuffing her wadded up clothes into the washer. A healthy splash of detergent and a twist of the dial and the washer hummed to life. After getting the newspaper from the front step she made herself a cup of coffee and went to the deck to wait for the laundry to be ready to be transferred to the dryer.

A few minutes later Laura came downstairs. "Crystal, didn't you see my clothes on top of the washer?"

"The clean ones?" She set the paper down. "Of course. I set them on top of the dryer."

"They aren't clean," the writer corrected. "I was going to take a shower before starting the laundry."

"What do you mean?" Confused, Crystal rose and walked over to the laundry area. "They're all folded."

"I always fold my clothes."

"You fold your dirty laundry?" She shook her head with disbelief. "I should have known. If anyone would fold their dirty laundry, you would. I'm surprised you don't iron it too."

"Only when I'm in the mood," Laura teased, reaching for a coffee cup. "If you see a basket of laundry on top of the washer, it's dirty. Just for future reference."

"Fine. Even if it looks clean, it's dirty." She turned and noticed Laura's outfit, a light blue baseball jersey and white pants with a matching blue stripe. Looking down, she saw the matching blue and white stirrup style socks. "What are you dressed like that for?"

"I'm on a softball team. Jenny's going to be stopping by in a few minutes to pick me up."

"You play softball? Somehow I can't picture you getting all dirty and sliding around the bases."

"I usually don't slide and yes, I play softball. Our team is called Ameilia's Airhearts. We're sponsored by Ameilia's Pub and she thought this was a good play on words. It's fun and it's a great way to get together with my friends." Laura poured herself a cup of coffee. "Do you play any sports?"

Crystal laughed. "I haven't played ball since I was a little kid and I knew then that I sucked." "Ah, you just need practice. If you aren't doing anything today, you're welcome to come along." "Thanks but no thanks. Getting hot and sweaty knocking a ball around isn't myi.e.of a good time." Laura shrugged. "Suit yourself. Did you get the paper this morning?"

"Yeah, it's out on the deck."

"In how many pieces?"

"Hardy har har," Crystal said. "Go drink your coffee. I'm gonna go take a shower." "If the wash finishes, I'll put it in the dryer for you."

Crystal came downstairs after taking her shower to find that Jenny had arrived, dressed in the same uniform as Laura. "Oh, hi Crystal," the therapist said with a smile. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"Hey Jen, we'd better get going," Laura said, picking up her cleats and glove.

"You want to come along?" Jenny offered to Crystal. "We're playing against the team from The Falcon."

"Naw."

"Come on, it'll be fun," she offered again. "You can watch Babe Ruth over here knock the ball over the fence a dozen times." She jerked her thumb in the direction of the now embarrassed Laura.

"No, really, I

"

"What are you doing today that's more fun than hanging out with a bunch of fun loving people and getting some fresh air?" Crystal fidgeted and looked in the direction of the washer. Jenny followed her gaze and shook her head. "Nope. Doing laundry isn't good enough." She reached over and tugged on the blonde woman's elbow. "Let's go."

Crystal stopped short when she saw Jenny's vehicle. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a Thing."

"What?" She walked closer to the pumpkin orange classic. "It looks like German army Jeep with the top down."

"It's a Thing. Well, that's what it ended up being called. Technically it's a Volkswagen One-Eighty-One." Jenny walked up proudly to her car and opened the back door. "This one is a seventy-four. The seventy-threes are the hardest to find but this one works with unleaded gas." "Must be a bitch to get parts for," Crystal said, still giving dubious looks at the Thing. She shot a look at Laura when she saw the smirk directed at her.

"It's a perfectly safe car," Jenny said, walking over to the driver's side.

"Except when you get in one of your moods," Laura said, hopping into the passenger seat, directly in front of Crystal. She turned in her seat to look at her roommate. "She's been known to confuse the Thing with a racecar from time to time."

"Bite me," Jenny said tartly, sliding into the driver's seat and putting her key in the ignition. "I'm not the one with six points on her license." She placed a hard plastic hairband on to keep the wind from whipping her hair about and put the Thing in reverse. The clutch slipped twice before engaging, causing the car to lurch and buck. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," Crystal assured, looking around for the seat belt. She had to dig between the seat and back to find the two ends but when she did she put it on and quickly tightened it into position. Laura saw what she was doing and smirked.

"Yeah, no problem."

"You know you two can walk if you don't like the way I drive." She paused long enough to glance at the oncoming traffic before darting out and into the lane. "Ah, I knew Betsy would be fine once she had her oil changed."