Creampie A drunk mother

Creampie A drunk mother

 

“Another,” I slurred while raising my hand to attract the barman’s attention.

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“Ma’am, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” He asked with concern in his voice as he took away the empty glass that was in front of me.

I gave him a withering look. “I’m old enough to know when I’ve had enough but not old enough that you should be calling me ma’am!”

He must have gotten the message I was trying to deliver as he sat down another glass and poured in an excessive amount of whiskey.

I may have put up a brave face at the prospect of being cut off, but the bartender’s soft reprimand had made me self-conscious. Afraid I had made a scene; I looked around the horseshoe bar trying to notice if anyone was watching me. Quit being paranoid Sara? At this late hour, no one cares what you’re doing. Everyone that hasn’t hooked up and left is drunker than you are.

Suddenly, a much too perky voice rang out from behind me. “Sara? Sara Curtis is that you?”

Ugh, I was so hoping that no one would recognize me; I thought but what came out of my mouth was “Heather long time no see.”

“I know, I know,” the perky blond waif said as she sat on the stool next to me. “I’ve practically been M.I.A. since I started dating Max. He’s such a great guy. And the sex is… Well, if he weren’t on a business trip right now I would be home getting my bell rung.”

Heather then raised a hand to get the bartender’s attention. “Cosmopolitan, please.” She ordered as though she was exhausted and the only thing that could revive her was a fruity vodka drink. “So what are you doing here alone, dressed up, and drinking whiskey straight?”

I picked up my glass of Jameson and stared at the amber liquid intently. If only the answer were written on the bottom of this drink. Oh well, bottoms up. I gave the whiskey a swirl before downing it in one gulp. “Another,” I barked as I pushed the cup toward the bartender.

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“Had a Tindr date. Guy seemed nice when we messaged back and forth. He was supposed to meet me at seven but never showed,” I said relaying the story as I gave the slow bartender the evil eye.

“His loss,” Heather replied as the barkeep finally refilled my glass. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re still here at a quarter past ten getting sloshed.” Heather then stirred the straw in her Cosmo before taking a sip. “Ah yeah, that’s the good stuff. Don’t tell me you couldn’t stand to be in your big empty apartment all alone.”

I picked up my newly refreshed drink and smiled at it like it was a man across the bar that I found interesting. “If my apartment were empty I would be there in pj’s eating rocky road straight from the carton. But it’s currently occupied by my son.”

“Your son? I thought you only had him during holiday breaks?” Heather mused as she finished off her cocktail.

“Not anymore. He lives with me now. He wants to go to Washington State. His dad and I decided it would be best if he moved out here to get acclimated to the area. But I think my cheapo Ex just wants to make sure he qualifies for in-state tuition,” I said before killing my latest drink of whiskey. “Anyway he and that girl Laura he’s been seeing were going out on their six month anniversary, and he was going to bring her back to my place after dinner. I’m trying to be the cool mom and let him have his space.”

The bartender reappeared and offered to refill Heather’s drink, but she lifted a hand to stop him. I, on the other hand, motioned the concerned man to keep the whiskey flowing. “That’s very forward thinking of you. But I have to say, from your tone you don’t sound like you want to be the cool mom.”

“Yeah well…,” I started before trailing off. Then with the alcohol acting as a truth serum, I threw caution to the wind. “It’s that I just got my son back ten months ago. You know truly back. Living with me and not just visiting on summer and Christmas breaks. At first, it was hard, the living together part that is. All these years living across the country from each other made his visitation more like a vacation than normal living. It was always who wants ice cream; sure you can stay up late as you want, and look what present Mommy got you. Now I have to be all do your homework; go to bed; eat your veggies. I hate it. And to top it off David was so aloof and shy around me. I worked hard to break down his walls, and it wasn’t easy. Sometimes it felt more like I was fighting with my ex than my son. Finally, I was making progress. David even hugged me in public of his own accord. Then…”

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“Then little Miss Laura came along?” Heather finished for me as I stopped talking and stared at my amber brown liquid therapist.

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “I’m happy he found a girl. And she seems nice.” I looked up at the bright lights surrounding the bar feeling the familiar pangs of jealousy that were usually reserved for when I saw a guy I liked having an intimate cappuccino with an attractive woman at the local café. “I don’t know. Is it wrong to be jealous of a woman half your age?”

Heather laughed. “I think that’s the most common type to hate.” She then placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You need to remember that David is your son, not the hot college student you are subletting a room to. If not Laura then some other pretty young girl is going to take him from you.”

“You’re right,” I murmured as I picked up my drink. “It’s just most moms have years to come to terms with their sons leaving them. I on the other hand have months.” But that’s not all, is it? That’s the real hard part, isn’t it? The part even in your drunken state you can’t bring yourself to tell Heather. That you, Sara Curtis, have a hard time seeing David as your son. All that time apart makes living with him seem exactly like Heather just described.

Then Heather gave me a look of concern. “I believe that you might need to slow down on the alcohol. You do need to get home at some time tonight.” She then pulled out a twenty and laid it down on the bar. “Be sure and call a cab I don’t want to find out you got a DUI or had a terrible accident.”

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Heather then turned and left the bar. My gaze lingered on her until she disappeared out the front door. Why can’t I find a man like she has? Rolling my eyes at the injustice of it all I turned back around and downed my latest glass of whiskey. I pulled out my phone and fumbled with it for a moment before opening the Lyft app and ordering a ride share. “Check please,” I hiccupped. The bartender quickly took my empty glass and slapped down my bill before I could change my mind.

It was half past one by the time I arrived back at my apartment. I stumbled to the door labeled 36d. Fuck, I am drunk. I hope David and Laura have moved things to his bedroom because I’m not going to be able to be discreet in my current state. I fished out my keys from my clutch purse, dropped them up, bent down to pick them, nearly fell, got the keys, and after a few stabs at the door lock finally let myself in.

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