Hit Him and Quit Him
09 Aug 2016Kyndi the Badass Space Chick
Oh...Oh shit...
Oh God...
This is gonna be the big one...
Oh... sweet... holy... fuck!
Stop. Just give me a sec. Let me breathe.
God damn!
C'mere, you. M'wa! That was lovely. Just lovely. Been needing that for a few weeks now, and it was wonderful to relieve all that tension...
For both of us, it seems. Look at the mess we made...
Okay. I've caught by breath. Time for a shower. If you'll just excuse me...
Wait. Hold it. You're still here?
Oh, no. I knew it was a mistake to take such a sweet guy like you into my ship...
Yeah. I mean it. You have to go.
No, you can't have my comm number. And no, I don't want yours.
Oh, don't be like that! Look- you were great. Really. Just what a girl needed after a long week of- well, that's none of your business. But the job's done, as we like to say. Time to move on.
And don't look at me that way. You said that you wanted to learn how it works out in the black, didn't you? Well, here you are- learning. Believe me- this isn't taught at Pilot's Fed academy. They're hands-on, but not that hands-on.
Seriously, though: get dressed. Don't bother tucking in your shirt. Just hold out your arms. Here's your jacket. Here's your shoes. No, just carry them. This way, follow me- and here's the door to the entry ramp. You know what to do.
No, I don't do the "last kiss" thing. Scoot. And, uh- good luck with life and whatnot.
Well, there goes another one. Shame, really. But his type always gets attached.
The door to the hangar bay slides shut behind him, and I punch the master entry ramp controls, sealing both it and entryway to my Cobra. I walk barefoot and naked back to the pilot's cabin, fishing out a joint from inside my jacket pocket. It's still laying in a heap on the floor, right where I had tossed it in the carnal frenzy to rid ourselves of clothing.
I survey my now-destroyed bunk. We really did make a mess. Clothes from earlier strewn about, blankets shoved aside, pillows positioned nowhere near their usual spot on the end...
And the sheets need washing, too.
But I can do that later. Right now, some Panem leaf is the perfect way to relax after exerting myself all afternoon. Prop my feet up on the ship's dash, light it up, take my first puff, and-
Oh, hell yes. This is the life.
I giggle in between puffs of the herb. The poor guy really was bringing his A-game earlier. Maybe he was trying to impress me. Maybe he thought I'd invite him to have dashing space adventures like in the holo-vids. Maybe he actually liked me.
Men.
I shake my head, letting out a slow, smokey exhale. They're either predators, or wide-eyed adolescents.
Again, I giggle. Or not into women at all.
Time passes, and I slouch further in the pilot seat, naked and surrounded by onionhead smoke. Through the open hangar door, I can see ships coming and going. It really had been a pleasant evening. Sex, onionhead, and a tidy profit once the cargo was offloaded is a good day in anyone's book. Eventually, I'll get dressed, pocket the credits, and join the line of outgoing ships to fly-
Another long exhale of blueish smoke escapes my lips. Wherever I feel like. Wherever there's a job. Whatever helps me stay free.
An Asp Explorer passes by, drifting to a stop above my open hangar door, the canopy facing me. I wonder if the pilot can see me in here, naked and blissfully high? I smile and wave just in case. If they can, I bet that story'll get passed around the bar tonight. Or maybe they didn't see anything. Oh well. Their loss.
Using my joint, I draw the outline of a heart around the Asp as it shrinks into a landing position above the pad across the bay from mine. This has been my life for years now- profit, o-head, and dick all more or less available on demand. And it's a good life. A hell of a lot better than before, when-
I banish the thought from my head. Fuck it. It's all in the past. You beat it. You got out. You're in control.
My vision gets hazy as the onionhead really starts to kick in. Almost by itself, my arm relaxes and extends, the joint dangling in my fingers before dropping to the deck. My thoughts drift as the o-nap overtakes me.
One of these days, Kyndi Jane...
My eyes close, the chemical bliss relaxing my body to the point of no return.
One of these days, you're going to meet a man you actually want to keep around...
My breathing slows, my consciousness receding into itself.
... and for once, you're not gonna know what the fuck to do.
