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Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Forbidden Library the Down in the Dirt Jan.-April 2023 issues collection book		get the 420 page Jan.-April 2023 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

The Best You Ever Had

Bill Tope

The pretty, dark-haired girl sported
an arcing rainbow on the collar of a
chambray shirt worn underneath her
denim jacket. This was what first
grabbed the attention of the man in
the Men’s Wearhouse suit and button-
down shirt. As she joined the queue
waiting for tickets, he sprang alert.

“Sorry, Miss,” he began, closing the
distance between them in line. She
looked up and into his handsome
face. “I think you’re in the wrong line,”
he said. She looked up at the box
office ahead of them, gazed
inquiringly at the man.

“I believe you’re looking for the line of
beautiful women,” he advised with
studied cleverness. She rolled her
eyes a little, blushed and said, “You’re
very sweet.” They both smiled a little.

That’s odd, he thought. She didn’t
seem that different from other females
he’d met. But, clearly, she was. And
he’d always wanted to nail one of them
lesbian chicks—straighten her out, so to
speak, make her see the error of her
ways. Show her what she’d been
missing. He smirked.

He glanced around. Maybe he could do
her in his car; it was just down the block,
in the parking lot at Kroger’s—no parking
fee, he thought frugally. He for sure wasn’t
wasting a hotel room on the likes of her.
She was pretty, though, he conceded; no
piercings, no tattoos, no pink hair, none
of the kind of shit you usually associated
with dykes. For the thousandth time he
wondered, what made an apparently
normal—and thoroughly beddable—chick
go over to the dark side?

He made his move: “What say we get a
drink?” he suggested suavely. She looked
back at the line. “But what about our
tickets?” she asked. “There’s always the
matinee,” he pointed out. “But, I work during
the day,” she explained. As what? he thought
smugly, a lesbo hooker? God, she was hot;
what a waste! He might just ruin her for all
the butch women in her future. He chuckled.

Without a word, the pair broke off from the line
and proceeded down the boulevard. She smiled.
“What’s funny?” she asked. He swiftly regained his
aplomb. “Just wondering if you’ll order a drink with
all them little umbrellas in it,” he lied. She shook
her head no. “Bourbon. Neat,” he corrected him.

Arriving finally at the Kroger’s, he led her to his car,
opened the rear door and allowed her to precede
him into the vehicle. He would just save the money
he’d blow on drinks, he thought. She looked round,
laid her hands on the upholstery. “Wow,” she said.
“This is very romantic. You really know how to do
a girl up right.” She smiled winsomely. The man
frowned. “What do you want,” he asked gruffly,
“the world?”

“No, certainly not,” she said, smirking herself now.
“In a motel we’d only have to contend with dirty
sheets and a broken ice machine; here we don’t
even have any sheets—or any booze. All the
better,” she said gaily. His frown lines deepened.
He wondered if he should just do her and to hell
with the rest: get off and get out. And he needn’t
be particularly gentle, either, he thought grimly.

But she was on a roll now. She thumbed open an
ashtray in the rear of the car. “And when we have
our after-sex cigarette, you’re prepared for that,
too.” She laughed with giddiness. He was getting
fed up. His voice took on a hard edge. “We can do
this the easy way,” he said, “or we can do it the hard
way.” She looked puzzled. “But, isn’t it supposed to
be better when it’s hard?” and she erupted in a little
gale of laughter.

“I’ll show you what hard is,” he warned, and
grabbed her roughly round the wrist. She struggled
fruitlessly. “Hey,” she protested suddenly. “What
is this?” He muttered darkly, “Payback. And
you won’t even have to kiss me.” He yanked her
close and she could smell his perspiration.
Unexpectedly, she drew a Glock from inside
her coat and stuck it into the man’s ribs. He
held his breath.

“Sir,” she said brightly, “I am a police officer and
you’re under arrest. For solicitation, assault and
battery, assault on a police officer...anything you
say...” and she continued on for some moments.
“Entrapment!” he bellowed, struggling in his seat.
“...and resisting arrest,” she concluded. “Don’t
make me shoot you,” she cautioned. He stopped
resisting. She told him casually, “We’ll see if we
can tie any of the previous assaults to this one.
We been looking for you for a long time, Toots!”

As she fixed the narrow twist tie round his wrists,
she said, “It was the rainbow that sold it, wasn’t it?”
He grunted. “You know what did it for me?” she went
on. “It was the suit. It reminded me of the Robert Hall
suits my step-father used to wear back in the day.
And he was a nasty piece of work, too.” The man
held his tongue, but he couldn’t resist one last barb:
“I might’ve straightened you out, Bitch. Been the best
you ever had!” She pulled the tie a notch tighter.

Yeah, my husband would probably agree with you
there,” she said. She stepped out of the automobile,
leaving the man immobile on the back seat. Taking
the wallet from his trousers, she pulled out her
phone, called in the bust. The invective was flowing
copiously from the man now. Concluding her call, the
woman leaned back into the car and remarked, “I
don’t think I want you for my boyfriend anymore.”

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