Stealing cars wasn't what I imagined as my ideal career, but I try to take opportunities as they come. When I was a little girl my first career choice was to be Wonder Woman. Unfortunately I never developed a strong second choice. This lack of direction is what led me to my current job prospect. I had never worked in repo before, but I was sure I'd pick it up as I went along. It seemed pretty straight forward. You grab the stuff and go. Now I was realizing maybe it wasn't as simple as I had thought.

Working at a repossession company had seemed like an unusual fit for an out of work actress, but anything was better than waitressing. If I had one more producer asshole order java then patronizingly explain that it meant coffee I was going to kick some serious ass.

My job interview was easy enough. As soon as I stepped inside Harriet Hollywood's Repossessions a Hispanic guy the size of a woolly mammoth gave me a nod and said, "You Stevie Stone?"

I was tempted to grunt, but instead just nodded.

He was wearing long baggy tan shorts, white socks pulled up to his knees and a wife beater tank. He had tattoos covering his arms and a scar that ran down the side of his face. I immediately realized that even the UFC champion would have to butch it up to fit in with these guys.

"Harriet will be out in a minute."

I sat down, looking at my outfit feeling ridiculous in my grey slacks and red blouse. I glanced around the room then rolled my eyes in disgust. There they were. The obligatory signed photos of celebrity clients on the wall. You couldn't even go to your gynecologist in L.A. without seeing touched up, smiling celebrities staring down at you. Head shots at a repo company? Whatever.

The front office was decorated with a couple of cheap desks, linoleum on the floor, some file cabinets and an old looking beige sofa along the back wall. The only unexpected accessory was the abundance of silk flower arrangements scattered around the office.

The woolly mammoth was sitting in the back with two smaller versions of himself. They were having a discussion in Spanish. Being paranoid, I assumed they were talking about me. I was trying to decipher their conversation with my limited Spanish skills when the back office door opened and a gust of flowery perfume exploded into the room. A woman in her early sixties walked in. She had white blond hair stacked on top of her head, too much make up and huge breasts that looked like two missiles ready to launch. She wore a jean miniskirt, a purple top that hugged every mound and purple high heels that were so high they almost looked like stilts.

The wholly mammoth made a gesture in my direction and the woman strode over gave me a big smile, held out her hand and introduced herself telling me to call her Harry. I shook her hand and stood there not knowing what to say. I felt like I had walked onto a movie set and was in the scene labeled "Crazy Characters".

"Come into my office so we can have a chat," she said gesturing for me to follow her. As she passed the wooly mammoth she said, "Hey Hector, go earn me some money and take the two little shits with you."

I took a deep breath and shot my eyes between the two of them. What happened next was totally unexpected. Hector and friends started laughing.

"Okay, boss," he said.

"There are some new repo papers in your mailbox."

Box? Hector had a mailbox? I don't know what I expected, but Hector going to his mailbox wasn't it.

"Now get your fat ass off my sofa and leave," Harry said, with a wave of her hand.

My eyes darted over to see Hector's response. I guess he enjoyed the abusive banter because all he did was chuckle under his breath.

Harry opened the door into her office. I must have looked shocked because she said, "Not what you thought is it sweetheart?"

It definitely was not. It was all white, with a glass desk and a big white fur rug on the floor. The walls had pictures of men in different stages of undress.

"I like to look at a bit of eye candy. It makes the day go by faster," she said, giving me a wink and telling me to take a seat in one of the white leather chairs that faced her desk.

The office's décor was startling, but the real surprise was the row of bookcases that flanked her desk on the side walls. It seemed as if Harry was a charter member of Oprah's book club.

Harry saw me staring at her bookcases and said, "My packaging can confuse people. They think a goddess don't read."

Was I supposed to respond?

"Tell me why a cute little thing like you would want to do repo work?"

I secretly wanted to jump for joy for her calling me small. Considering several casting directors had told me to start smoking and become addicted to highly caffeinated drinks and that extra weight would just fall off. On a good day I can zip into my size four jeans without having to lie on my bed and suck in a pound of flesh. I was normal weight, but by Hollywood standards I was obese.

I didn't have an answer to her question so I blurted out, "It's gotta be better than waitressing." I couldn't believe I said that, but something about Harry made me feel comfortable.

Harry started to laugh.

"You know sometimes this work can get ugly. You understand that?"

I wasn't sure what she meant exactly by ugly, but I knew people weren't going to be especially glad to see you when you were repossessing their car.

"I can imagine." I lied.

"No, honey you can't, but I could use someone like you. When people see Hector coming they tend to take off. They'd never suspect that you'd be working repo."

I nodded in agreement.

"I think you're going to work out just fine."

I felt my stomach tie in a knot. What did I get myself into?

"Harry?"

"Yes, hon?"

"I'm an actress. Would it be all right if I took off sometimes for auditions?"

"Darlin', this is L.A. Everyone's an actor. Even Hector's taking classes. You make your own schedule. I put the repo orders in your box. You get the merchandise back on your own time."

I talked the details over with Harry and agreed to be back in the office tomorrow morning. I was going to be trained by Hector. Something to look forward to.

Chapter Two

I arrived at Harry's on time. I skipped the grey interview pants and wore jeans, a black T-shirt and black sneakers. A girl has to match. I didn't know what to do about a purse. Did I bring one on the job? If not, where did I put all my stuff? I was sure Hector and friends didn't have this problem. In the end I decided on a fanny pack. I knew it was a major fashion faux pas, but I was sure the boys at Harriet's wouldn't notice. I just hid the offending bag at my building because the other type of "boys" in West Hollywood would notice and I would never live it down.

My two closest friends in L.A. were Jeff and Jason. They were always very quick to tell me when I needed to moisturize, wax my eyebrows and when I should use whitening strips. They were high maintenance, but when they complimented me I knew they weren't just blowing smoke up my butt. I knew I earned it. It was great getting a man's perspective. Well, at least a gay man's perspective.

Harry had told me to park my car in the lot behind the office and to come through the back door. I parked next to a white Cadallic Escalade with gold trim and rims that looked like the ones that spun around. There was enough gold to make even a pimp jealous. By its size I was guessing the owner wasn't concerned about the environment. Next to the Escalade was a silver minivan. Obviously that person didn't see the big sign that said in obnoxiously big black letters, "If you don't belong, you will be towed."

I grabbed my fanny pack and cringed hoping no one would take my picture and put it in a magazine with a black bar covering my eyes in the "What not to wear" section. I debated with myself about whether to put my top up on my old Volkswagen. I left it down. Considering I didn't even have a CD player, there was nothing to steal anyway.

I took a deep breath and opened Harry's back door and walked in. I was instantly greeted by the pungent mixture of flowery perfume and hairspray. I walked through a small hallway and passed a bathroom on my right and peeked in. Harry must really like silk flowers. There was a vase of them on the counter, one in the corner on a stand and another behind the toilet. I smiled to myself picturing Hector and friends using the bathroom.

I came into the office and saw Hector and his two minis weighing down the sofa in the same spots they were before. They seemed to be wearing the same clothes. Maybe it was a uniform. Would I be assigned a wife beater tank, baggy khaki shorts and white knee socks?

As soon as Hector saw me he got up, smiled and said, "Hey, I'm Hector." He held out his hand. "And these two are Gus and Victor." He pointed at each one when he said their names. "Don't you assholes know any manners? Stand up and shake hands. Bunch of hicks, don't know nothin'." They both grinned and did what he asked.

I was surprised. Somehow I expected Hector to only know how to grunt.

Harry's office door flew open and she came waltzing out. She was wearing a red and white polka dot skirt, a white blouse and black heels. She looked like Minnie Mouse on steroids.

"Hey, Goldilocks, are you ready to get started?" She said winking at me.

I nodded. Was I Goldilocks?

I wanted to say look at the roots honey. I owe my blondness to my hairdresser's expertise at highlights and my ability to pay him an exorbitant amount of money. Some things you can't scrimp on.

Harry scooted out Gus and Victor by calling them a bunch of shitheads and to go earn her some money. They nudged each other, grabbed some work orders from their box and left. They only get one box? I guess they only work together. She explained the procedures and how to fill out the paperwork while Hector sat on the sofa talking on his phone in Spanish.

When Harry was done explaining she smacked my ass and told us both, "To get the hell out of here." If she had been a man I would have decked her, but since it was her I wasn't offended by the ass slapping.

Before we left Hector grabbed a little spray canister and gave it to me. "Put this in that old lady thing."

Old lady thing? I'm being dished for my fashion choices by Mr. Wife Beater?

"You mean my fanny pack?"

"If that's what it's called. My Nana wears one."

Great! Me and his Nana.

"What is this thing?" I said holding up the silver canister.

"It's pepper spray."

"Why would I need this?"

"You'll see."

That didn't sound promising.

"I don't even know how to use it."

"You just aim and shoot. Just make sure you aim for their face, not yours." He chuckled and shook his head laughing at his own joke. "If you do those blue eyes of yours will be changing into red ones mighty quick." More laughing. At least he seemed happy.

When we got to the parking lot Hector checked out my car. "This is yours isn't it?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Hector started laughing again and slapping his thigh. Was he high? "I knew it. Those two dumb asses owe me twenty bucks."

"You guys bet on what type of car I had?" Not off to a good start.

"Yep, and I won. I knew you'd have one of these girlie shit type cars. Dumb and Dumber said you'd have a hybrid to be all hip to the environment." He got his keys out of his pocket and clicked the alarm of the silver minivan.

I wasn't sure why the three of them betting on what kind of car I drove bothered me so much, but it did. "Cool car." I said hopping into the passenger seat.

"What about it?" He asked looking at me suspiciously.

"Nothing, I was just wondering if you copied all your friends in the P.T.A."

"Hey, I'm sensing some attitude," he said.

"Oh. And nice socks… Are you afraid of varicose veins and need a little extra support?"

I took off my fanny pack, shoved the pepper spray in it, threw a Barbie that was on the floor into the backseat and slammed the door shut.

"Whoa, little girl is hitting me with some major 'tude," he said while adjusting the air conditioning before pulling out onto Hollywood Boulevard towards the west side.

"The little girl comment? Not helping." I said wagging my finger at him.

"All right. Calm down. Damn, you're as bad as my wife." He huffed and shook his head.

I crossed my arms and glared at him.

He gave me confused look. "Fuck. I really don't mean to make you pissed off. It's just I hang out with guys, not chicks. Unless of course I was gonna see them naked. But that's different."

"You mean to say that you're not really a complete sexist ass. You just pretend to be."

"Yeah, that's right."

Hector and I parked in front of a house in the flats of Beverly Hills. It was one of those typical McMansions, a huge monstrosity built on a too small lot. A beautiful historic house was knocked down to build a testament to one's ego that practically poured onto the street.

During the drive over my temper had died down. I realized Hector was not insulting me. He just really didn't know how to talk to women. I had come to this conclusion by overhearing his conversations with his wife who had called at least four times. He had talked to her in a mixture of Spanish and English so I was able to understand some of it. I actually felt sorry for him. It sounded like he was getting a considerable scolding for something he had done. Through it all he never yelled and was pretty mellow. It seemed like this was an everyday occurrence. I didn't want him to know I was being nosy so I got out my phone and pretended to sort through my text messages.

"What are we doing here?" I asked. Hector hadn't spoken to me on the drive over. I think he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"See that black Ferrari?" He pointed to the driveway two houses up. There was a big gate, but we could see the car behind it.

"Yes."

"We're waiting for the piece of shit owner to leave it somewhere where it ain't locked up, so we can nab it."

I was confused. I expected to be going to a different sort of neighborhood, certainly not Beverly Hills. My face must have betrayed my thoughts because he said, "What? You think people in this neighborhood can't be deadbeats?"

I never really thought about it before. But yes, I really didn't think my first repo would be in Beverly Hills.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"Sh..ee..it. The Westside is where most of our work is." He said shit as if it was a three syllable word.

"I had no idea."

I had wrongly assumed that I would be hanging out in the parts of town that I didn't frequent very often.

"The more money the repo is worth the more money gets in our pocket. Harry doesn't do any small ass stuff. I'll tell you though these rich dick wad types are more sneaky than any of the homies' in the hood."

Jeez. I hope I don't have to repossess something from anyone I know. That could get a little awkward. I was ready to tell Hector as much when he started up the van and said, "There he goes."

I looked over and saw two men; both had dark slicked back hair and an extraordinarily large amount of chest hair peeking out from the collar of their shirts. They looked like the rich types that hung out on Sunset Boulevard, drinking wine all day, pretending to be in the "business," looking to get laid. I had to fend off quite a few in my previous food service profession.

"I've been following around this ass wipe for a week," he said. "That's why I have my wife's van. He spotted my car on first day."

"Why what kind of car do you have?"

He let out a whistle. "A sweet magenta 1969 Thunderbird. The rims alone are worth two thousand."

No wonder this guy spotted him. That's not exactly a blend in car in this neighborhood.

"Does it have one of those really loud engines?"

"Hell, yes it does! Man it's got as much power as any man need. Sh..ee..it. Is it loud?" He answered shaking his head.

"Does it have more power than this van?" I couldn't help myself. He seemed so serious about the "power". It said it with almost a reverence.

"What? Shit you don't know nothin' about…" Hector looked at me and saw that I was smiling and stopped himself. "All right, all right the girl can give some shit."

We were following the Ferrari from three cars behind. Even though we were in Beverly Hills, the car still stood out. Most of the other cars were somewhat more understated. There were a lot of Mercedes, BMW's and Toyota Prius's for the Hollywood wannabe environmentalists and Hummer's for those who didn't give a crap.

"Didn't you think your loud, magenta car would get noticed around here?"

"Look at me. I wasn't going to blend in anyways. I might as well get some driving enjoyment."

I looked at Hector and acknowledged he was right. It would be hard for a man with his girth to blend in anywhere. The chest hair guys swung around into the valet parking lot of Sunset Plaza.

We waited in the van from across the street at a discreet distance and saw the two men walk down the street. Hector quickly pulled out and drove into the parking lot. He found a parking spot and hopped out. A valet guy that had long brown hair in a pony tail, an obvious spray on tan and teeth white enough to signal a plane, came running towards us.

"Excuse me, but this is valet only," he said.

"I'm not doing valet," Hector said, walking past him.

"I'm sorry sir, but it's not a choice, this area is for valet parking only."

Hector looked more annoyed than angry.

"Man, this is my wife's car and I am under her instructions that no one. I repeat. No one. Can drive this car but me."

The valet parking attendant looked pained. I could understand his dilemma. Hector didn't look like someone you'd want to piss off.

"If you don't want us to drive the car that's fine, but you have to still pay the seven dollars to park."

"Seven dollars?"

The valet guy nodded.

"Man, what a frickin rip off," Hector grumbled then reached into his wallet pulled out the seven dollars and tossed it to him. "Now, fuck off before I get mad."

The valet guy took the money and ran. Hector reached into the back of the van while complaining how L.A. was a fucking rip off and pulled out some small tools. I followed him to where the Ferrari was parked. Luckily, the car was in the back part of the lot. Hector took out what looked like a long stick and slid it down between the window and the door then pulled it back up.

"Damn, this is a mother fucker." He tried it a couple more times. "Take that, bitch," he said. Then he reached for the handle, opened the door and fiddled with some wires.

Was this legal? I couldn't believe I was standing there as look out, while somebody broke into a car. Within seconds I heard the Ferrari's engine rev up. Hector got out of the car and motioned for me to get in the driver's seat.

I shook my head. "I'll drive the van. You deserve the power," I said hoping the sound of the engine would entice him. I thought I would drive his van back to Harry's and he would take the Ferrari just in case this sort of thing was in the grey area of the law.

"What I said to that guy was no bullshit. No one else drives the van but me."

"But how will she know?" I pleaded.

"Sh…ee..it. She knows everything. And I don't want to get into it with her. Now just get in the car and follow me."

He seemed to be genuinely afraid of his wife. She did sound a little scary from what I had heard earlier. I felt a little sorry for him

"Fine," I said and got in the car. It stunk like cigarettes and bad cologne.

Hector started to walk away. I rolled down the window and yelled out, "Hector, would you please bring me my purse. I don't feel comfortable driving without my license." Hector gave me a 'You've got to be kidding me look.'

"You mean that frickin ass grandma bag?"

"Yes. Can you and your wife beater tank top get it for me?" Smart ass.

He walked away grumbling something about women and saying, "Sh…eee…it." He brought me my fanny pack and tossed it in the passenger seat.

"Here's the repo paperwork in case you get stopped," he said.

Stopped? By whom? I started to panic.

"Chill, Goldilocks. Sometimes people call the police. They think they can sweet talk the cops into getting their car back. My cell phone number is on the back of the paperwork if you need something. I'll see you back at Harry's place." He walked back to his car and pulled out of the parking lot.

When I gingerly drove the Ferrari around to follow him I should have known with my luck things weren't going to go as easy as they seemed. As I was waiting for the light, the hairy owners came out of the restaurant, carrying takeout. When they saw me, they started yelling and running towards the car.

Great. I was stuck. The two men started pounding on the car window.

Pretend they aren't there I told myself. I started to look at my cuticles. Man, I could use a manicure. The pounding was getting louder. Thank God the windows in a Ferrari were apparently industrial strength.

I couldn't take the noise anymore.

"I am legally allowed to take your car!" I screamed holding up the repo papers as proof. I kept this up until I got tired of trying to yell through the window. I decided to crack it and tell them that I worked for a repo company. I had just opened my mouth when the more agitated of the two reached through the crack. He yanked my hair making my head slam against the window.

Ow!

"Now what, bitch?"

Whoa! What's with the name calling?

The hair puller had a strong accent French accent. And I presumed his weapon of choice was his cologne. Yuck! He wore enough to knock over a small elephant.

"Let go of my hair!" Paying for highlights was bad enough. I couldn't imagine what fixing a big bald patch would cost.

The guy holding my hair looked at his friend and they both started laughing.

"This dumb bitch wants me to let go."

Again with the name calling!

"I'm within the law to take your car. Now! Let go!"

I was getting mad. The light had changed, I had a bunch of cars behind me. I was getting embarrassed with this guy name calling and holding my hair. I felt like I was eight years old fighting with one of my brothers waiting for one of us to say "uncle".

"If you let go of my hair, I'll give you back your car," I bluffed.

The two them started laughing again. I could feel my temper starting to flare. I had enough of their idiotic cackling. Maybe I should bite him like I use to with my brothers. Then I'd have to actually touch him. No thanks.

The light turned green again. I wanted to bolt out of there, but this guy had my hair and I was not going to lose a hunk of it. I doubted even my expert hairdresser could fix a big bald patch. I searched around for my purse and pulled out the canister my partner had given me. I grasped the lid, yanked it off and started squirting it at the guy's face.

The man started screaming, covering his eyes with his hands. His friend jumped back with his hands in the air.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Hair puller said.

Hmm, a little scary…but overall that was pretty easy. This pepper spray stuff was fabulous.

I punched the gas pedal making my fanny pack fly off the seat. All my stuff fell onto the floor. Crap! I reached down and shoved it all back in and took off down Sunset towards Hollywood. My heart was racing and I was shaking a bit, but for some reason I started to laugh. I was still laughing when I saw the lights flashing behind me.

Crap! I fumbled for my phone and told Hector what was happening. He said his usually "sh...ee…it" and that he would be there in a few. I wasn't sure if the sight of a three hundred pound man with tattoos covering a good portion of his body was going to help, but he was the supposed expert.

I tried to explain to the police officers what happened, but they didn't seem to hear me. Instead they asked me to stand away from the car with their guns drawn. I told them how I was a perfectly within my rights to be driving this car because I was a repossession professional, but they weren't listening. When I admitted to them that I didn't own the car. And yes I had sprayed someone with pepper spray. They slapped handcuffs on me and we headed towards the police car.

This was not good.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing?" Hector yelled from across the street. He trotted across Sunset Boulevard holding out his hands daring the cars to not let him pass.

I looked at the police officers to see what they were going to do. I didn't want Hector to get shot. To my surprise they started smiling.

"You motherfuckers are arresting my assistant man."

I was his assistant? I don't think so.

The police officers looked me over and started laughing.

"I told you," I said wanting to stick my tongue out. My maturity level was at a new low.

"Did Harry recruit her at the sorority house?"

I didn't like their sorority comment. They didn't even know me.

"For your information I was never in a sorority. I found them completely archaic and discriminatory."

They laughed even harder. I looked at Hector in disgust and turned around showing him I still had the handcuffs on.

"Hello! I'm sorry to interrupt your little I'm a bunch of assholes meeting, but I'm still handcuffed here."

The two cops looked almost identical. Both were Hispanic, medium height, with dark hair and eyes, except one looked like he had been eating more donuts than the other.

"I don't know. We got a call that she sprayed pepper juice in some guy's face," the donut one said.

Hector looked at me for an answer.

"The guy grabbed my hair through the window and wouldn't let go," I explained.

"See the dick head had it coming," Hector said to them.

"All right Hector, show us your papers," the skinnier one said.

I told Hector the papers were still in the front seat of the car. When Hector went to get them, donut cop unlocked the cuffs. I looked down at my wrists and instinctively started to rub them. Ow!

When Hector was walking back a generic looking white sedan pulled over to the curb. A guy who was a major hottie stepped out and greeted Hector. He was a couple inches taller than Hector had longish brown hair and had a drool worthy body. Even though he did the complicated hand shake thing he wasn't wearing the wife beater uniform. He had on baggy jeans and a long sleeved, grey top. I heard them talking in Spanish. They both looked at me and started smiling.

Great! Now I was being made fun of in two languages.

The mystery guy looked at the two cops and did that recognition nod that men do glanced my way again, got in his car and took off.

Hector walked over and asked, "Goldilocks, you okay?"

I nodded.

I couldn't believe I was actually responding to the name Goldilocks.

Hector gave the paperwork to the cops. They saw it was legit and after apologizing to me took off.

"Hey, Hector who was that guy in the white car?"

"A friend."

Duh, I figured out that.

"Is he a cop?"

"What's with the twenty questions?"

"Twenty? I've asked two." Jeez.

"It seems like twenty. Let's get this car back so you don't have to get all jiggy with your pepper spray again." He did a little karate move when he said this and then laughed at himself.

"You're hilarious." I said giving him a bitch look.

He looked guilty then mumbled something about me following him back to Harry's place. I could hear him saying, "Sh…ee…it," as he drove off.

Chapter Three

I sighed when I clicked open the gate to my apartment's underground parking garage. I was glad to be home. My tires seemed to squeal in agreement as I pulled into my parking spot. I grabbed the fanny pack and walked to the elevator hoping that none of my neighbors were around. I was too tired to talk to anyone. I debated about whether to knock on Jason and Jeff's door. I knew they would baby me and make a fabulous dinner, but they would also ask a zillion questions. I wasn't sure I wanted to get into the hair pulling, pepper spraying story. Better to just go to my apartment, get on my pajamas and zone out in front of the T.V.

When I walked down the hall I saw a familiar figure waiting for me. He was leaning against my door with a knowing grin on his face.

"Anything new you want to tell me about?" Bryan asked putting his arm around my shoulder and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

God he smelled good! I had to keep chanting to myself that we were broken up.

"No, nothing to tell," I said. He obviously already knew about what happened. He had friends everywhere in this city and they were never shy about reporting my shenanigans.

Bryan and I met in my senior year at UCLA when I broke into a science lab and freed the animals they had been doing experiments on. I was running from the campus police when I saw Bryan walking by and shoved the bunny I was holding into his messenger bag. I was smitten when he helped me ditch campus police and didn't even get angry after the bunny ended up crapping all over his law books.

He was from one of those families that seemed to have their fingers and money in everything. His family wanted him to go into politics like his father and grandfather. He wanted that too, but not for the same reasons they did. He actually thought he could make a difference. I thought he was battling a hopeless cause. He worked in the district attorney's office as a prosecutor, which was the first step in his carefully constructed future.

Six months ago he had asked me to marry him and I turned him down. I loved being his girlfriend, but being his wife sent me into a panic. There was no way I could see myself going to fundraisers and having that fake smile plastered across my face that his mother had permanently glued onto hers. If I married him I knew I'd have to change and I didn't want to change. I liked me. After rejecting his proposal we both agreed to take a break and figure things out.

"Why didn't you use your key?" I asked.

We were in that awkward phase where we were friends, but still wanted to jump each other's bones.

"You never gave me another one after you lost yours and I had to let you in," he said.

I didn't remember, but that sounded like me.

"Stevie you can't be serious with this job. Working in repo is definitely not a good fit for you," he immediately launched in.

I ignored him. This wasn't the first time he didn't approve of my career path. I unlocked my door and threw my keys on the kitchen counter.

My apartment was a small one bedroom in a building built during Hollywood's golden age. On the plus side it had high ceilings, wood floors and crown moldings. On the negative side it had no air conditioning, old appliances and bathroom fixtures that looked like they had been left over from the silent film era. The best part of the apartment was the balcony that overlooked the pool. In the summer it was liked watching a George Michael home video with the large amount of gorgeous gay men working on their tans.

"Don't start," I said.

"You know this job isn't right for you," he said. "How are you going to take someone's car?"

"Actually I'm surprisingly good," I challenged.

He gave me a doubtful look.

"I am," I insisted.

"Come on Stevie you graduated at the top of your class. You know you can get a better job than this."

"I like this one."

This was the basis of most of the fights we had. I did something…unusual and he tried to convince me not to.

"You need to quit," he said, making an effort to keep his voice controlled.

"No way."

"I can help you find another job."

"I happen to like my boss and my co-workers are quite pleasant. So forget it."

He glared at me knowing it was a lost cause. I crossed my arms in front of me.

"Stevie," he said. "I deal with these types of people every day. You're just too…nice for it."

I saw my answer machine light blinking and slammed my hand down not believing what I just heard. Nice my ass!

It was Jeff. "Stevie we need you to bring us some maxi pads and come up as soon as you get home."

What! I had to replay his message three times to make sure what I had heard was right. Maxi pads? What's up with that?

I heard Bryan groan behind me. I turned around and smiled. I had a feeling Jeff's message would stop him from nagging me about my job. Maxi pads would definitely not be on Bryan's top things to talk about.

"I don't want to know," he said.

Jeff and Jason lived in the apartment above me.

"You don't want to come with me and find out what's going on?" I teased.

"No I don't."

"I know they'd love to see you."

"I'm sure they would."

I started laughing.

Jeff and Jason loved Bryan almost as much as I did. They thought I was crazy for turning him down. Bryan genuinely liked them, but sometimes got uncomfortable when they looked at him like he was lunch. I didn't blame them. Sometimes I would stare at Bryan and find drool slipping out the side of my mouth. He was a foot taller than me and his body looked like one of those after shots in an advertisement for a gym. He had eyes the color of chocolate and dark blond hair that hung to the side and was always getting in his eyes. There was also something hard to define about him that made people anxious to bask in his aura.

"Scared?" I asked.

"Yes," he said smiling. "The last time I saw them Jason kept accidentally bumping into me and touching my ass."

True. Jason was tipsy and couldn't resist.

"You could take it as a compliment," I said.

He came closer to me and tilted my chin up to look at him.

"I'd rather get compliments from someone else."

Yikes!

"I'm sure you've gotten compliments from lots of people lately," I said accusingly.

He grinned. "Maybe…but not from the one I want," he said kissing me lightly on the lips.

He had been baiting me like this for the past couple of weeks and I wasn't going to give in…even though I really wanted to. Having sex wouldn't be good for either one of us. The during was guaranteed to be fabulous. But the after wouldn't. We'd still have the same problems. At least being friends we could still be in each other's lives and not have the pressure of trying to fit into each other's worlds.

I never asked if he had slept with other women and he never told, but I suspected he wasn't staying home watching chick flicks with his two gay neighbors like someone else we both knew. But I tried not to think of Bryan with anyone else. It wasn't good for my psyche.

"I better go see what they need," I said giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He pulled me close and hugged me.

"Your hair smells different. And what's this?" He asked touching the side of it.

I reached up and felt it. It was definitely a little crunchy.

"The pepper spray was more powerful than I realized," I explained.

"I should have known," he said shaking his head.

He gave me a quick kiss on the lips goodbye. No tongue. Like a good friend and left.

Within five minutes I had the requested box of maxi pads, and was knocking on Jeff and Jason's door.

Their apartment looked like a magazine spread, whereas mine looked like a dorm room in training. They shouted for me to come in the bedroom. Jason and Jeff didn't have a T.V. in their living room. They said it ruined the aesthetics. I interpreted that as meaning they thought it was tacky. They don't even bother commenting on my place anymore. I told them it wasn't that I had bad taste it was just that I had bad funds.

Jason was a red haired, blue eyed good ol' southern boy who just happened to be into dark, exotic looking men. That's were Jeff came in. He was half Columbian, half Japanese and gorgeous. Jeff worked as a make up artist in the entertainment industry and Jason was an entertainment lawyer. They'd been together for five years and were perfect for each other.

When I got into the bedroom I stopped in my tracks. "Oh, my God, what have you two done?" I was sure my eyes must have looked as if I they were ready to spring out of my head.

They were wearing only pajama bottoms and were on the bed lying on their stomachs with pillows propping up their butts. Their asses were huge and looked like they had been inflated with an air pump.

"What do you mean?" Jason said giving me a wide eyed innocent look that I was sure he practiced in the mirror.

Jason was the crazy one of the two and always seemed to get Jeff wrapped into his schemes. Jason liked to put on a little man's tough guy attitude. I didn't even realize he was gay until I met Jeff. Then the gig was definitely up. It's wasn't that Jeff was particularly effeminate, it's just that if he got you a glass of water he brought it to you in a wine glass, with crushed ice, a lemon wedge on the side and a cocktail napkin. Not a normal hetero guy thing to do.

"For God's sake Jason it looks like your butts are ready to explode."

"We just worked out really hard today," he said.

"Yeah, right! Why do you need my maxi pads then?" I held them up in the air as a witness to his insanity. "Is it to wipe the sweat off your swollen asses?"

I hated when Jason tried to bullshit me. He must have gotten away with a lot as a child because he would say the most outlandish stories and people would believe him. He wasn't necessarily a liar only a really big exaggerator. Jeff was the sane one. They were the gay version of Ricky and Lucy.

"I told you she wouldn't believe us." Jeff said accusingly at Jason.

"Dammit! Miss Nancy Drew has to notice everything."

"Jason, anyone would notice those asses."

"I told him you would be suspicious when he asked for the pads, but he," Jeff pointed at Jason, "Didn't believe me."

I rolled my eyes at Jason. He blew me a kiss back.

"So what really happened?" I asked.

"We got butt implants," Jason blurted out.

I stared at them with my mouth hanging open.

"You did what?" I shook my head in disbelief. Of course, I knew about breast implants. This was L.A. even the meter maids had gigantic boobs that stuck straight out, defying gravity. But butt implants? Who would want their butt bigger?

"Why?" Was all I could get out.

"Our friend Omar got a new boyfriend, who gave him a credit card with no limit and he offered," Jason said.

"And you know Jason can never turn down a freebie," Jeff said rolling his eyes.

Jason was known to be very careful with his money and was a fanatic coupon clipper.

"He offered to buy you new butts?"

"You wouldn't understand. You've got a big enough ass."

Was that a compliment?

"Stevie, you know how hetero men like big boobs. Well gay men like big, round firm butts," Jeff said

"Well, you too certainly are asses." I gave Jason the maxi pads. "So, why do you need these?" I knew I probably didn't want to know the answer, but I was too nosy not to ask.

"We're having a slight reaction the implants," Jeff said

I looked at Jason, wondering what kind of reaction would require maxi pads.

"Are asses are leaking," he said.

I blinked my eyes a couple of times and looked at Jeff who nodded. I was trying not to get grossed out and kept pushing out the image that kept popping into my head.

"You asked," Jason said smirking at me.

Jerk.

I walked down the stairs back to my apartment in a daze. My thoughts were clouded with visions of the boys using my maxi pads. Yuck! I was also trying to stop the words, ass leaking, from polluting my brain. Not exactly an image that would lull me to sleep. At least they were too distracted by their implants for me to explain the faint smell of pepper spray still lingering around me.

When I got inside my apartment I did a head shake in the hope that I would rattle my brain into forgetting the vision of the two of them in all their swolleness. After that was accomplished I went straight into the bathroom and hopped into the shower, doing a little extra hair scrubbing to get rid of the pepper spray residue. Then I did a quick towel off, pulled my wet hair into a pony tail and headed straight to bed. When I was putting on some undies and a t-shirt I heard my front door creak open.

Don't get freaked out I told myself it could be Jeff and Jason. Then I started thinking there was no way it could be them. Jeff and Jason would fall backwards from the new weight of their posteriors. They could barely move.

My heart started to pound. Where was my purse? Crap! It was lying on the counter by the answering machine. For someone who never even saw pepper spray until this morning, I was a total pepper junkie now.

I could hear foot steps walking around. What should I do? I picked up the phone and tried to dial 911, but it was off the hook. I tiptoed into the hallway to take a look.

"Where are you bitch?"

"Yeah, come out bitch," another voice taunted. "We know you're here."

Oh, my God! It was the hair puller and friend from this afternoon. I ran to my bedroom window, yanked it open and screamed my head off. I was so loud I was sure people as far away as the valley could have heard me.

Not exactly the action woman I thought I was. I ran back to the bathroom and locked the door. I heard them run down the hall and flinched when I saw the bathroom door handle turn. I held the handle and pushed all my weight against the door. I was so scared I felt like I was going to throw up.

"You sneaky bitch," hair puller said. "Fidel shoot the handle off the door."

"I didn't bring the gun. You were supposed to bring it."

"No. It was you."

"You're always blaming me."

"Fine, just forget it. Let's just break the door down."

I braced my feet on the floor and pushed my back against the door just as they both started to ram into it. With each hit I felt myself getting angrier. After all I was just doing my job. They should have just paid their bills.

"Bitch we're going to get you bad. You're going to be our little bitch girlfriend," said hair puller.

I heard Fidel laugh.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"You just love that word don't you? You know that bitch means a female dog. So actually it is not really that insulting to me. I love dogs."

"Shut up, bitch," hair puller said.

"You just proved my point. Your repertoire is very limited," I grunted while pressing against the door.

"You're one crazy bitch!" Shouted hair puller.

"There you go again."

"She's right you know," said Fidel. "You do always use the word bitch."

"What? Just break down the door!" Hair puller said "You got us in a lot of trouble today…whore."

He learned a new word!

"Yeah you're going to take us to our car," Fidel said.

"I don't know where it is," I answered.

I didn't either. We just brought it back to Harriet's and she had someone else take it wherever it needed to go.

"We'll you're going to find out and then we're going to have some fun," Hair puller said. "You're going to find out what it's like to be with a real man."

"When you find one let me know," I said.

"She just insulted us, didn't she?" Fidel said.

Duh!

I heard other foot steps run down the hall towards my bedroom.

More of their name calling friends?

"Stevie, are you all right? Where are you?"

It was Jeff and Jason.

"Call the police!" I screamed.

I exhaled with relief and slid down to the floor.

"Let's go!" shouted Fidel.

I heard them run down the hall towards the front door. I looked around for a weapon. Nothing. As a last resort I grabbed a flat iron and hair spray, took a deep breath and flung open the bathroom door. I immediately stopped when I saw Jeff and Jason blocking the hallway. They were crouched down in attack position with their eyes squinting in anger.

"What the hell is that?" asked hair puller his eyes wide with disbelief.

"I don't know, but it looks like they're wearing diapers," Fidel answered.

I shook my head and did a double take. I was so shocked to see Jason and Jeff looking so fierce I didn't bother to notice what they were wearing… or rather not wearing. They stood there with white bun huggers, designer of course, with very large maxi pad bulges. I probably should have told them that they only needed to use one at a time.

"Jeff you block the door until the police come," Jason said. "And no you ignorant men in desperate need of a good waxing, we are not wearing diapers. Haven't you ever seen women's maxi pads?"

"Yeah, we're gay and even we know what they are," Jeff shouted from the front doorway.

"What kind of craziness did you get me into Emil?" Fidel said.

"Just shut up and let's go before the police get here."

"I don't want to get near those guys. It looks like they have some disease. Their butts are like a baboon's. What if it is catching?"

"Just don't get near their asses. We must leave. Now! " Fidel shouted.

"I know where you live." I put my hand over my mouth when I saw them swing their heads around. Why don't I just hang a sign on myself that said, "Kill me!"

The hairy beasts seemed shocked to see me out of the bathroom and charged towards me. Jeff and Jason wasted no time in propelling themselves after them. I stared stunned at the sight coming towards me.

Emil grabbed my wrist and raised his hand as if he was going to hit me. I had the hair spray in my hand and squirted him in the face. He covered his eyes and started screaming. I heard sirens in the distance. Fidel looked confused. He lunged toward me, but was pulled back by Jason and Jeff who had by now grabbed him by his arms.

"You stupid bitch!" Emil screamed still clutching at his eyes.

The last bitch was just too much. I grabbed my flat iron, walked towards him and smacked him as hard as I could in his privates. Emil grabbed his crotch and fell to the floor moaning. Seeing his friend lying on the ground in agony sent Fidel into a panic. He wrenched his arms away from Jeff and Jason screaming, "Don't get your asses on me!" He tried to bolt. All three of us went running after him. He got as far as the door when Jeff jumped onto his back.

"Don't touch me!" Fidel screamed while moving backwards smacking Jeff and his swollen ass against the wall. Jeff screamed and fell to the floor. I ran towards him and tried to help him up. Jason whose face showed he had enough, reached out and pinched Fidel's nipple, twisting it until his hand turned red. I thought Fidel's eyes were going to pop out of his head.

"I don't want to be your boyfriend," he begged in a high pitched voice.

Jason looked at me and rolled his eyes.

"Listen, you hairy ape, I'm going to let go, but if you try to go out that door I am going to rub my infected ass all over you. You got it?"

Fidel looked at him in horror and nodded.

We heard what sounded like elephants coming down the hallway. Jason, Jeff and I blew out a collective sigh of relief and looked at each other.

"Great," said Jason. "A bunch of hot uniformed guys and we're not even close to looking our best.

I tried to smooth down my hair, which by this point was hanging in pieces all over.

"Oh honey, forget it," Jeff said taking my hand away from my head. "There's no hope."

We looked at each other and started to laugh.

"Maybe they won't notice," Jason said which made us laugh even harder.

Screw it! I opened my front door and yelled down the hall, "We're in here!"

I didn't care that the three of us looked freaky. We stopped two psychos with nothing but hair spray and a flat iron. Jason and Jeff even did it while wearing an abundance of women's feminine products.

To show my appreciation tomorrow I was going to buy them a boat load of maxi pads, order them a nice take out dinner and rent them their favorite Broadway musical.