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by Mr. Z
Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #2116712
A humorous look at a first date with a very unusual woman
I wrote this story when I was in grad school many years ago. It was one of my first attempts at humor. Hope you enjoy it.

Mr. Z

Intimidating Women

According to the many daytime talk shows on television, men are intimidated by forceful, aggressive women.
I want to dispute this concept by saying as a man, I am definitely not intimidated by a woman who is self-confident and achievement-orientated. Nor am I intimidated by forceful, aggressive women. I would describe myself as being frightened, scared, panic-stricken, and terrified. Now, before you pass judgment on me, you need to meet Marianne.
Marianne is the kind of woman every man notices, mainly because she can belch like a lion, crushed beer bottles (the beer cans are for sissies) in her hand, and screams at the bartender, “Hey scumbucket, bring me a beer.” Her demure figure is at least six feet tall and some 200 plus pounds. She is usually dressed tastefully in old cowboy boots, dirty jeans, and a tight muscle shirt. Her jewelry consists of things such as hand grenade pins for earrings and a bayonet for a pendant. She always has at least one tattoo, usually something along the lines of a skull and crossbones.
The first time I met Marianne was when I was in traffic court paying a fine for a parking ticket. She burst into the room and demanded to know who was the %*)^*&$&(^% in charge. She immediately apologized to the three individuals in orange jumpsuit and handcuffs. She didn’t want them to think she was insulting them. A bailiff came forward with a taser and told her to sit down and wait her turn. Her response was “Hell no, come one baby, light me up.”
It took a few minutes, but the bailiff was finally able to convince her to sit down and wait her turn. She sat down next to me. I was wondering if I should offer her a piece of gum or perhaps some raw meat. She solved the problem by pulling some raw meat out of her bag and offering me a bite. I politely declined. She told me her name was Marianne, but everyone called her Bloody Mary. She said her hobbies were dirt bike racing, arm wrestling, and watching autopsies. She also informed me there was one taking place later that afternoon and invited me to join her. Fear crept in when I realized the most macho thing I could say about myself was I didn’t like quiche.
I did introduce myself, explaining I was an English teacher and my hobby was watching Shakespeare. She wanted to know if he had ever been arrested. I think I disappointed her when I said no, he had a clean record. I did inform her that the college where I was teaching was performing Macbeth that weekend and if she was interested, she should come. She slapped me on the back and said great, it was a date, and she would pick me up at six.
The next day, the first thing I did was check her out. I got onto the FBI most wanted website and then went down to the post office to check the wanted posters. There were no listings for “Marianne” or “Bloody Mary,” although I did find two John Doe warrants for someone answering her description.
The weekend came and so did she, riding a Harley-Davidson, wearing the same clothes she had worn when we first met, and drinking from a Jack Daniels bottle. She pulled up and turned off the motor before taking a big swig from the bottle. After she belched, she handed me the bottle and told me to help myself. I quickly realized I was going to need all the help I could get to make it through the evening, so I drank about a fourth of the bottle before getting on the motorcycle.
Marianne revved the engine and off we went. As we ran through the red lights, she told me she had to make a short stop. There was a rumble scheduled for that night and she wanted to wish her friends good luck. Also, she wanted to pick up some ammunition in case someone from the other gang came looking for her. We arrived at the garage where the gang was staging before going into battle. We hadn’t been there more than a few minutes when federal authorities and the local police came bursting in to arrest everyone on the scene. I was then attached to someone called “Mongol.”
At the police station, we were fingerprinted and put into adjoining cells. Mongol told me not to worry since it was my first offense; he was sure I would get probation. When we were brought in front of the judge, it turned out Marianne was wanted in another state on several felony warrants. So our date ended with her being remanded to federal custody and me posting bail. Mongol also made bail and gave me a ride home.
I still hear from her, mostly through the parole board. She has already listed me as a character witness for her parole hearing, which is schedule in five years from now. I am however seriously considering a career move to teach English in China. I’m hoping the Great Wall will stop her. If not, I may end up honeymooning in Mongolia on a Harley-Davidson.
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