The Big God-Help-Me by Judy Colella (shoe dog free ebook txt) 📖

trying to figure out what the Greek letters stand for. Unable to fathom what they could mean, I ask her.

“Best Bods Anywhere,” she tells me, standing up and striking a pose.

Someone needs to strike her, if you ask me. I so wanted to tell her how incredibly lame that name was, but figured she might not know what the word “incredibly” means. “Ah. So you naturally assumed I was this other Sierra, even though I’m in my late twenties, and obviously not a college kid.”

“Hey,” said the Amazon, “lots of girls go back to college when they’re older.”

“Hmm. And agree to hazing?”

“Sure.”

“So.” I down some soda. “What form did this hazing event take?”

The blonde pauses long enough to look a little embarrassed. “We had a friend of ours put a little something in your drink. It made you all woozy and stuff, so we told the club manager you’d been drinking all day, and that we’d get you back to your hotel.”

“Great. You gave me a date-rape drug? Then had some orangutan of a guy haul me off to – I didn’t even have a hotel room yet!”

Gina puts a hand on my arm. I really hate when people do that. I shake it off. She puts it back on. “Calm down, sweetie. Nothing bad happened.”

“No? Were you there? Are you absolutely sure? Besides, even if nothing did happen, it bloody well could have!”

“Anyway,” the bleach-queen continues, “we helped you into his shirt, put you to bed, and left. Ta-da!”

Ta-da, eh? “Er, who, exactly, undressed me and put that shirt on me? The owner of it?”

The terrible trio actually look horrified. “OMG! No!” The girl’s black bangs shift wildly as she shakes her head. “He was long gone by then!”

I’m amazed. Someone actually said “OMG” out loud. “What about the ring?”

“I found that in a Cracker Jacks box once,” Percy tells me.

That did it. I spit my soda in his face as I’m overwhelmed with a sudden, totally unexpected tsunami of laughter. I was right about that ring! OMG!

Wait – did I just think “OMG”?

Out of the corner of my ear I hear blondie say, “So…which Sierra is she, then?”

“Sierra Collins,” Gina tells her (I’m still gagging on soda), and adds that I’ve never even been to Vegas before.

I almost interrupt to correct that misconception, but think better of it. After all, the idea of going back to college had been my mother’s, not mine (hence me calling that road-trip “unproductive”). She’d been in a sorority once, too, at the University she’d attended up north and had insised I try getting into on, too.

You know, now that I think about it, I guess I never did tell Gina my maiden name. What’s strikes me even more, though, is the fact that these three sorority babes didn’t recognize me…or maybe they did. Either way, I sure didn’t recognize any of them. Well, I’m glad I didn’t stick around and go through with the enrollment. My mother, naturally, wasn’t at all happy about it.

Good old mom. You know – the Mrs. half of Mr. and Mrs. MacKenzie.

Imprint

Text: Judy Colella
Publication Date: 07-19-2013

All Rights Reserved

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