“The Bitch has arrived!”
“She’s got more beer, ladies!”
“Beth, you have to tell me exactly what happened last weekend.”
The moment we came into view of the party, a swarm of five or six girls surrounded us, all chattering, giggling, and doting on Beth – clearly, I made friends with the right person. Within minutes, each them had an open beer and stories of rig accidents, sexcapades, and hot new frac hands were flying back and forth like commuter trains.
I hung back, as was my MO, and surveyed the crowd.
It was entirely expected that the party would be 90% men, but it still took me aback to be surrounded by so much sausage. Men of all shapes, sizes, and ages were milling about, slapping each other on the back, knocking back shots and chugging beers, and cussing up a storm. There were a few cute ones that looked about my age – and even more cute ones that looked much younger – and even a few sporting wedding rings. Good luck there, boys. A small set of speakers sat on a folding table next to an iPhone, but other than that and about five coolers full of beer, it was pretty much just an open field at the top of a hill full of horny oilfield workers.
So, pretty much heaven.
“Oh my fucking God, Beth, he’s here.”
Now that sounded juicy. I turned back to the gaggle of ladies. A large girl with blonde hair pointed animatedly through the crowd, her cheek almost pasted to Beth’s as she shared what appeared to be (evidenced by the sudden quieting of every other girl in the group) incredibly valuable gossip.
“No way,” said Beth, her eyes fixed on a spot near the folding table. “I don’t see him, Pat. Where?”
“Right there! He’s sitting in a chair behind Kirk.”
I could only assume Kirk was the massively delicious blonde God standing across the field from us in apparent deep conversation with another guy I couldn’t really see sitting in a folding chair. It was hard to care about the guy in the chair with Kirk’s backside to relax my eyes on. He was ripped from head to toe, with a beautiful head of bushy blonde hair and a very firm looking ass.
I couldn’t imagine why Pat gave a damn about anyone else with that view but she continued to fret. “Do you see him? What is he doing here?”
A brunette gal stepped a little closer. “What’s going on? Who are you guys talking about?”
Pat pulled her in by the arm. “The Kiss of Death! He’s right over there.”
The brunette’s eyes widened. “Well, fuck my world, it is him.”
Just then, Kirk stepped aside to reveal a good-looking but by no means drool-worthy man with wavy, messy brown hair lazing in a folding chair.
I smirked. “Okay, what’s the big deal? He’s not that hot.”
All the girls fell silent. Every eye was on me.
Pat nudged Beth. “You haven’t told her yet?”
Beth bit her lip and glanced over at me. I’d only known the girl a week but never once during that week had she seemed even remotely worried about…well, anything.
This Kiss of Death must be important.