The Man Pit Welcomes Sherry and Michelle

Sherry makes good on her determination to improve Michelle's life.

         The Man Pit was not the seedy den of iniquity Michelle pictured. It had all the appearances of any respectable establishment that blasted techno music and had flashing lights. Tables, bartenders, and patrons of all types littered the business. It seemed as if there was a skewed ratio of women to men, though. The waiters, who wore neckties, but no shirt, were the only element that put off Michelle.

         Sherry was a frenzy of excitement, reminding Michelle of a crazed politician meeting and greeting. It was clear Sherry was a regular at The Man Pit. Decked out in bright purple eye makeup, Sherry's eyelids looked too heavy to lift at times, a fact she blamed on the false eyelashes. She wore a sheer charcoal slip dress with a low back while the neckline plunged in the front drawing the eye directly to her more than ample cleavage. The dress itself was ill suited for her squat frame, something Sherry did not seem to notice. She accessorized with a medium sized black handbag.

"God, Michelle, I knew I should have dressed you," Sherry complained.

"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?" Michelle asked.

"Nothing, if you're on your way to the PTA meeting Mrs. Jones," Sherry mocked, "How are you gonna land a husband if you're dressed like you already have one?"

"Speaking of, where's your wedding ring?" Michelle asked.

"Sssshhh! Will you keep it down? I can't have you ruining my good name here. I'm a brand- I have a cachet!" Sherry was horrified.

"I think you mean cache," Michelle said.

"I'm talking about the weight of my reputation Michelle, not how I walk," Sherry said.

"That's sashay," Michelle clarified.

"I know I'm sassy! What are you even talking about Michelle?" Sherry asked in frustration.

"I don't know anymore," Michelle replied.

"Well, make up your mind, are you playing it smart or dumb? Hint: dumb works better," Sherry advised.

"Hey Sherry! What's happening?" the muscle bound bartender asked.

"Not much Chuck! What's the market like?" Sherry inquired.

"Saturated. But it might dry up before the night is out."

"Damn. Give us two margaritas and two; no make that four extra shots of tequila." Sherry ordered.

"No, I don't need a margarita or the tequila, I'm not a big drinker," Michelle objected.

"It's okay, Chuck makes really weak drinks and the tequila's for me," Sherry interjected, shooting Chuck a look that instructed him to play along when Michelle glanced over to him for confirmation.

"Oh, yeah, I get the most complaints about how weak my drinks are," Chuck agreed.

"Okay then," Michelle sat down at the bar, while Sherry took a couple steps back, making room for a running start, and quickly hopped up onto the stool next to Michelle.

"You'd think after nearly 40 years of practice, you'd have found a way to make that look graceful," Michelle commented.

"You take that back right now!" Sherry demanded, looking around to see if anyone heard.

"Sorry, 29 years," Michelle amended.

"That's better. And who asked for commentary from the peanut gallery anyways?"

"You're delightful," Michelle mocked.

Chuck arrived with the drinks and Sherry tipped him with an objectifying comment that horrified Michelle.

"You have got to lighten up Miss Priss," Sherry complained, "Here, it's custom at the Man Pit to take a big swig of your first drink of your first visit."

"But I haven't had anything to eat; I don't want to get drunk," Michelle said.

"First drink from Chuck I mean. They aren't as strong. You won't get drunk," Sherry directed.

"Oh, right," Michelle remembered.

"Cheers!" Sherry toasted, reaching over and turning up Michelle's glass further.

Michelle coughed and gagged on the drink.

"Oh my God, Sherry! I almost drowned," Michelle objected.

"You weren't doing it right! Besides, any idiot who tries to breathe in a margarita deserves to get drownded," Sherry replied, "Hey, look at that beef cake over there!"

Sherry pointed randomly behind Michelle who turned to look. When Michelle was facing the other direction, Sherry emptied one of the shots of tequila into Michelle's margarita. Michelle looked back and asked, "Which one?"

"The one in blue," Sherry pointed again, and dumped a second shot of tequila into Michelle's glass.

"There are three guys in blue over there," Michelle said.

"Oh, darn, I guess he left," Sherry said, "You missed the first man of the night, you gotta take another swig, them's the rules."

"If it'll keep you off my back, fine," said Michelle taking another gulp, and frowning, "Oh my God, this drink tastes stronger!"

"That's just the way Chuck's drinks are. They taste like they're getting strong the further along you get. By the time you get to the bottom, if it tastes like pure tequila, that means you got a good batch," Sherry explained.

         Michelle was already feeling her drink, so what Sherry said made perfect sense. She started nodding to the beat of the music and smiling. This was more fun than she thought it would be. Sherry was waving and greeting people as they passed by or entered.

"Do you know all these people?" Michelle asked.

"Most. You need to drink some more. The longer a drink sets, the alcohol gets stronger, so if you let it sit too long you're gonna get drunk faster," Sherry said.

"Oh that's right," Michelle said, downing more of her drink.

"Oh, my God, look at that tramp!" Sherry pointed in the random direction behind Michelle who turned to see. Sherry dumped the remaining two shots of tequila into Michelle's glass.

"What tramp?" Michelle looked back at Sherry.

"You must have missed her. Total W.H.O.R.E." Sherry said.

"A woe?" Michelle slurred.

"Yeah, Michelle, a woe. It's the newest class of sex worker," Sherry responded.

"Really?" Michelle sounded amazed. Sherry was pleased with progress of her plan, "Operation Loosen Michelle Up."

"Michelle, your drink!" Sherry cried.

"Oh, right" Michelle chugged the last of the margarita with extra tequila concoction like a champion. She started dancing in her seat.

"Stop that now before someone sees, you look like you're having a seizure," Sherry was horrified.

Before Michelle could come up with a retort, a man popped up beside her.

"Hey there," he said.

"Dammit," Sherry muttered to Michelle, "Too late."

"Hey! Was gonin on?" Michelle slurred with enthusiasm.

"Not much. You look like you're having a good time. I'm Randy."

"Hey Randy! I'm Michelle, and this is my besss fran Surry."

"Nice. To. Meet. You. Michelle." Randy emphasized, then as an afterthought, "Hey Suri."

"It's Sherry. We were just having some drinks and a little girl talk," Sherry's voice was edged with ice.

"Nu uh! We're here to find me a man. Get my stand out of the way. You said it were time to get back on the mannn Surry." Michelle laid all her cards on the table like a slutty poker player.

"Well, let me buy you a drink Michelle," Randy said with a speed that annoyed Sherry.

"No, that's okay. We don't need any drinks," Sherry interjected.

"SpeakforyourselfSurry" Michelle shot out and smiled at Randy a little too wide who smiled back like a rat Sherry thought.

While Randy occupied himself with procuring Michelle another margarita, Sherry pulled Michelle over.

"This is the first nibble of the night, wait for the next one," Sherry whispered through clenched teeth.

"You wait for the nex one," Michelle said, then lowering her voice, "Thisss gude looks like Colin Farrell."

"See, now, the fact that's an in with you is a problem already, and we haven't even addressed the elephant in the room, which is this guy might could pass as the poor man's Colin Farrell, maybe 20 years ago on really good day," Sherry said, "If you were visually impaired and stood really far away."

"I don eve know whad you said, but I tink it was mean," Michelle said with her mouth open to emphasize her disapproval. She turned back around took a gulp of her margarita, and accepted Randy's invitation to dance. Sherry looked on with disapproval. A man in a well-fitting suit approached her.

"Hey baby, you look kinda lonely over here," he started.

"Keep walking Shakespeare or a dentist is gonna have to pull your balls out of your throat," Sherry said without looking at him.

"See ya," he said moving along.

"Catch me when I'm not busy wingmaning," Sherry called.

         Sherry regretted getting Michelle so drunk so fast. Turns out, she must have been telling the truth about not having eaten. Now, she was grinding on the dance floor with a balding 40 something who was wearing a fitted tee and blue jeans and looked as if he could stand to miss a couple meals. Sherry did not like where this was going and that went for his hands as well, which were all over Michelle's body. Sherry noted that Michelle moved his hands whenever they came in contact with her chest and behind.

         The song ended and another came on, Michelle started walking back toward Sherry and Randy pulled her back toward him. Sherry could not make what Michelle said, but saw that she was making her way back over, with an unhappy looking Randy following close behind. As Michelle took another drink of her margarita that Sherry had switched out with a water glass, Randy wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and started kissing her neck. Meanwhile, his hands ran up her abdomen, to her breasts, allowing him to cop a feel.

"Raaaanndy," Michelle giggled, while pulling away.

"Come on baby, let's get out of here," Randy urged.

"Um, Ricky, is it? She's gonna leave with the one who brung her," Sherry said.

"Look, Suri, isn't there bakery you could be closing down right about now?"

"Maybe if I could find one you and your mama hadn't already hit!" Sherry straightened up and replied.

Michelle was finally catching up to the conversation.

"Hey Rude! You can, you can't say that to my bess frand. She's Surry." Michelle slurred.

"Put a sock in it, Michelle. Suri's got this," Sherry said, "I'd comment on what a fat ass raper faced penis head this guy is, but I'm too much of a lady for that."

"We were having a good time until you opened your fat mouth, you dwarf whale bitch," Randy said.

         Michelle gasped and dashed her drink in his face, and before Randy could get his hand up to shove Michelle, Sherry had her stun gun lodged into his rib cage, and he hit floor where Sherry continued to stun him for a bit before resorting to kicking him in the ribs a couple of times. No one seemed to notice the grown man writhing on the floor in stunned agony.

"Come on Michelle, let's get out of here," Sherry directed pulling Michelle in the direction of the door.

"Yeahhhh bish!" Michelle yelled back to the mess on the floor.

"Go easy on him! Don’t use all your best material on that one guy, Michelle" Sherry said rolling her eyes.

When they were outside, Michelle vomited on the sidewalk and thanked the lamppost for catching her. She stumbled a few steps and whispered to Sherry,

"He's cute!"

Sherry looked back at the lamppost, and said, "Yeah, he sure is honey. Oh, you've got good taste! He's tall. I got his number for you."

"Yay!" Michelle cried as she doubled over and puked again.

"Yeah, go ahead and get that out because I don't want in my car," Sherry said as she patted Michelle's back with disinterest, "And Michelle, I love you like chocolate cake, but honey, if you ralph second hand tequila in my car, I'll sell you to the gypsies – and I will take the first offer."

"Did yoou see me? I kicked that guy's azzz," Michelle cried.

"You and me must have been at two different bars," Sherry replied, "But yeah, honey it was like you were an electrical drunk gazelle."

"I know why I kicked his azzzz, but why were you such a rude dog to him," Michelle garbled.

"Because we have standards Michelle, and we don't take the first creep who comes running when he thinks he's spotted an easy drunken target," Sherry said, "Even still, I learned a long time ago anyone who can't hear no, doesn't have your best interest in mind."

"But Surry, you don't hear me say no ever," Michelle said.

"Anyone with a penis who can't hear no doesn't have your best interest in mind," Sherry corrected, "Now shut up, and help me find the car."