The Big Leagues, Bit 1

(Word count: 968)

    The Louisville slugger felt good in my hands.  The handle was sticky from the pine tar I had used during my final season as a shortstop in the farm leagues (double ‘A’ was the pinnacle of my career).  Low, whispered voices outside my door had awoken me, causing me to reach for the bat.  At the moment, the voices were locked in a low muffled argument, it was difficult to distinguish words distinctly.  I stood listening, bat cocked over my shoulder.

    “I am pretty sure those aren’t our cats,” one of the voices annunciated.

    A second voice replied, “Yeth, and it thmellth like a cat boxth in here.”

    “Hey, I don’t think we have cats?  Do we have cats?”  Voice one.

    Voice two replied, “No we hate cath, remember?”

    “Oh yeah, hate cats, right.”

    There were only two voices on the other side of my bedroom door.  They sounded female, and at least one of them was plastered, the other, if she wasn’t plastered was no intellectual gladiator from the sound of it.  I let the bat’s tip drop to the floor.  They were my sister’s dumb cats, I was just taking care of them while she was off to some exotic locale with some personal injury attorney or something.

    “Thara, it thmellths in general in here, you think maybe thith ithn’t our apartment?”  Voice two, I could tell by the slur, I am good that way.

    “You know the numbers on the door didn’t really look quite right, and it was unlocked, and there are an awful lot of books in here.  Do we have any books Jen?  By the way, my name is Sara, not Thara.”

    Holy crap!!  It was Jen and Sara from apartment 21 upstairs.  They must have had some difficulties in their present condition and settled for my apartment, number 12.  I had never spoken with them before, but I knew who they were, boy did I know who they were.

    Jen’s about 5’-4”, dark sun streaked hair with killer green eyes and a few freckles sprinkled on her petite face.  About 5’ of her is legs, long, smooth, well defined tan legs.  I am no good at guessing weights so I won’t, but if Jen had any extra weight, it was all in her bust.  And they were about perfect from what I could tell, not the over inflated silicone enhancements currently popular.  She was way out of my league.  If I were playing low ‘A’ ball, she was in Cooperstown.

    And Thara, I mean Sara, she’s your typical, tanned blonde goddess, about 5’-2” tall, but only about 4’-6” of her is leg, not as strong as Jen’s legs, but the whole package was there, Va Va VaVoom!  She has the curve’s of a Gaylord Perry greased knuckleball.  Again, way out of my league, not Cooperstown, but most definitely she was in the show.

    “Well, leth jutht thpend the night here Thara, we’re probably clothe enough to our apartment that it would count.”

    Huh?  Close enough to count?  Count as what?  They couldn’t spend the night here, in addition to the place smelling, if they saw it in the light they would know I am the dweeb they suspect I am.  Well I hope they suspect I am, I doubt they even know I exist. 

    “Jen that is a good idea, let’s find a bed.”

    Oh man I only have one bed, and…

    “Leth look in here,” Jen said as she fell against the door, which swung into my face, I felt the cartilage shift, again.

    “Ow, damn-it that hurts,” as I stumbled back.

    “Oh, look Thara ith that cute dweeb from downstairth, I think I broke hith nothe, Are you okay dweeb?”

    “Yeth I am , yes I’m okay thanks, it just shifts when it gets hit sometimes is all,”  Dang she looked good in the dark, “My name’s Hank by the way, not dweeb.”

    “Thorry Hank, I’m Jen and thith uth Thara, I think maybe we are in the wrong apartment, unleth maybe you are, did you break into our apartment?”

    “No ladies, this is my apartment sorry, do you know it is…uh…3:30 in the morning?”

    “Thath why ith tho dark then,” Jen found the light switch and turned it on.  She then exclaimed, “Oh Mr. Dweeb, Hank maybe you want to put on thome panth?

    Holy Moses, Jen looked even better in the light, I can’t function like this.  Man she looks hot.

    “Uh, perhaps we should give Hank a chance to put some pants on Jen, let’s just wait out here.”  With that Sara led Jen from my room, I quickly threw on a pair of pants, and found the women in the living room.

    “Hank, would you mind terribly if Jen and I kinda’ just slept this off here?  The stairs are pretty daunting you know, when you’re…well when you’re a bit tipsy the way we are.  I swear we’ll make it up to you, have you over for a nice dinner or something.”

    “Yeah, Hank Mr. Dweeb, we’ll treat you to a very nithe dinner and thtuff, pleathe?”

    I didn’t really need to think about it, but I did.  I wasn’t going to get any more sleep tonight that was for sure.  “No problem Jen, Sara, I have had problems with stairs myself on occasion.  Why don’t you sleep in my bed and I’ll stay out here on the couch, you’ll be much more comfortable.”  I escorted them to the bedroom.

    Jen turned, and looked me up and down, “You know you’re pretty cute for a dweeb Hank.”

    “Jen, knock it off, if he turns any redder we are going to get sunburn,” Sara said while smiling at me.

    I closed the door and headed for the couch.  The big leagues were in my apartment.

(Word count: 968)