It had been one of those stinking hot days Chicago has in summer. The Loop was packed with people jostling one another when I went out at lunchtime to get some food for dinner, the L was packed with people being jostled as the carriages rattled when I finished work and even the beach was packed with people and I got jostled as I walked from the car park to the sand.
I wasn’t in a good mood.
I put my bag down near the lifeguard’s booth and made my way to the water. But even that was full of people and someone swam into me. Being jostled in the water was just too much. I fumed. But when the person who had crashed into me - some woman a few years older then me - started to blame me for the collision, I snapped. I grabbed her head, dunked her, held her under while I counted thiry and let her go. She resurfaced, spluttering water and coughing. I told it how it was, "It was your fault you bitch. Don't try to blame others again. Learn your lesson."
She didn’t say much, just glared at me. I swam up to her, "You want to make something of this bitch?" I hissed.
She muttered something and edged away. I wasn’t giving an inch. I trod water where I was, glaring at her till she shrugged her shoulders and swam off. I had won that, I began to feel better.
I swam a bit more before getting out and walking up the beach to my gear, looking forward to another drink and a bite of food. I'd already had a few drinks and some food but after a hard swim was peckish again. I was still edgy, work had been bad, the heat had been worse and the bitch had been worse still. Though, I told myself, she did get exactly what she deserved.
I pulled another beer from the cooler and sat back checking out the scene, not that much was happening at the time. There was a tall blonde bitch stalking back to her towel, I had seen her about twenty minutes before with a group of friends. From the litter of stuff around them and their relaxed attitude I thought they must have been there all day. ‘Damn the idle rich," I muttered when I had seen their designer gear, their vintage wine and the jewelry on the women. Now the blonde was on her own. I guess she had seen her friends off.
I looked further down the beach, there was a group of guys a short distance away chatting and standing round drinking. I brushed my hair with my hand and picked up a trashy novel to read while I waited till something happened to amuse or interest me. I didn’t pay much attention to the book, it was one of those novels that you didn’t need to - kinda the paperback version of daytime TV. The blonde made a detour; she could have walked straight to her towel. "She thinks she must be a boy magnet … look at her … all tits and legs and blonde with it, tight baby blue bikini. I bet she goes and chats up those guys," I muttered quietly looking out at the scene. "She is so obvious! Bah! She smiles at every man."
The blonde was walking straight past me, her eyes fixed on the guys but she turned, putting on a false bitchy smile, "Yes? Did you say something?" she asked pushing her tits out.
She had heard but then I meant her to. It was time to raise the stakes a bit. "Fuck this slut! Well, I’m sure the boys will want to and I am sure she’ll let them," I murmured just loudly enough for the blonde to hear. Then in my normal voice I continued, "No, well not to you anyway, it’s ok. Just musing to myself. Nothing for you to worry your pretty head about.” Stretching back on my towel I picked my book up making a pretence of reading while looking at the blonde out of the corner of my eye. She didn’t move. I put my book down on the sand, "Hey, you got a problem hon? Or perhaps I could help you with something?"
She stood over me, her hands on her hips, looking down. She flung her hair back. "It’s okay, hon” She spat that word out just to mock me, I felt my fury surge and she continued. “I understand that you’re jealous," she giggled, looked me up and down and smiled. "And I can’t blame you for it, not with that body." She started to walk away.
I leapt to my feet my large breasts shook a bit under the cotton t-shirt. "Well, of all the rude and nasty bitches! I just asked you if you needed some help and you insult me. Hey" I called out to the guys "You heard me, all I said was ‘Can I help you’ and she bites back with that sneer." I wanted to put myself in the right with the men, I wanted them cheering for me if there was a fight. I turned to the blonde who was still walking away. "Hey, you, blondie, you apologise for that remark!" I knew that she would do nicely to let my aggression out; the aggression that had been building all day. I took a deep breath, I knew I was breathing out the strong smell of alcohol. "Hey you’re not running out are you?"
She stopped walking and turned around as I spoke and glared. She took a couple of paces towards me. "Apologise for what? I heard your comments about me, so if there is anyone who should apologise it’s you!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I stood with my hands on my hips/ I felt my breasts out, my nipples prominent pressing in the cotton of the t-shirt. I saw the boys behind us were gazing at us and thought that I just had to put on a show for those dudes. I was going to make the blonde eat her words or fight me. I knew if I fought I would win, she was way too pretty to be a fighter! I walked over toward her. "Did the boys over there hear what I said? What they heard was me being friendly, trying to be helpful. What they heard you say was rude." I stepped closer till I was but inches away from her, I could feel her breath on my cheek; she was panting. "What I may have muttered I said to myself. What you said you said to me and the whole crowd could hear! So apologise blondie!" I glanced back at the men who were standing watching intently now.
She backed away muttering, "Just another jealous bitch."
I looked at the boys, they were on my side, they wanted to see the blonde taken down a peg. Perhaps she was a tease? And of course she was much better looking, the guys would much prefer to see her naked. And as she only wore a bikini there was every chance of that happening. So I could lay it on thick. "Just who the fuck do you think you are, bitch? What do you mean I’m jealous?" I stepped closer still, she edged back as I went on, "Why would I be jealous of a blonde like you? I’ll bet your legs are so often open you sleep that way at night."
That brought some smiles from the guys, I just knew that they were fantasizing about that being true, and perhaps it was. The blonde knew she wasn’t winning this exchange. She was red-faced; I could feel her breath coming in pants on my cheek. I glared at her: "You have one last chance girl, be sensible and say sorry then get on your way. Cuz if you don’t, that pert little butt of yours is going to get kicked!"
She looked at me, flicking her eyes up and down my body. I could she her thinking ‘she’s a loud mouthed bitch, she’s overweight, she’s nasty, but maybe she can fight hard, she looks like it, tats on her arms, a few scars there too.’ She shuffled back. "Look there was no need to get angry with me, I didn’t say anything much," her voice trailed off then started again, "And your last comment was as rude as anything I said."
She wanted an olive branch. She wasn’t going to get one. "Yeah, maybe I was a bit rude, but you deserved it, you brought it on yourself." I stepped towards her again. She flinched I glared at her. "Now apologise and we’ll forget about it." I bit my tongue to stop from smirking, I had this bitch on toast and the guys all knew it.
"Well, okay then, I’m sorry. It wasn’t such a big thing; don’t know why you got so upset." The blonde shuffled back a little more. She lowered her eyes.
"That’s better girl, just remember don’t try tricks like that again." I sat down again and she scurried back to her towel and the other stuff and packed up. I waited for her to walk away hurriedly, her head down. I was sure she wouldn’t walk past me, that she would run off and sulk somewhere.
She knew who had won. And so did I. And so did the guys.
I sat back smiling but inwardly I was almost wishing the blonde had stood up to me or at least not been so darn submissive at the end. I still itched to fight someone and who better then this blonde bitch? First off she was blonde, second she was a bitch, third she was a bimbo, fourth she was a coward, fifth she deserved every thing I could have dished out and more and hell I could have dished out a lot. It would have been an easy, guaranteed win for me. And I’d get a lot of fun from beating the crap out of a cowardly slut like that. But then I had made her back down publicly and I hadn’t had to raise a finger to do so. And I had the guys thinking I was in the right. Oh yes, I had their approval. I knew it from their smiles. I thought about going over to chat but then thought that might be a bit obvious.
I thought Id just glare at the blonde who was still packing her stuff. She was in a hurry. She was nervous and she kept dropping things. I almost felt sorry for her, I knew how she felt, I too got flustered. But it had been too much fun dealing with her for me to really feel sympathise, instead I looked for a way to put the boot in even more. I shifted my eyes back to the guys; they were laughing and looking at the blonde bitch. No doubt making fun of her. They would have even more fun if I tormented her again.
Then as she stepped up to leave I saw an even better opportunity. She had left something behind. I couldn’t tell what it was and didn’t really care I decided to show how nice I was, I’d get points with the guys. I yelled out “blondie, you left something behind.”
She looked at me, almost as if she didn’t believe me. I couldn’t really blame her. But one of the guys left the group and raced over to where she had been. Bending down he scooped up the item she had left. I could see it clearly now, it was an iPod. He ran after her and called out to her. Now she stood still. I could tell when he handed her the device that she was going to turn and leave - her body language told me that she was embarrassed. I smirked again. And then he said something, I couldn’t tell what. Whatever it was, she liked it, for she smiled and then they started chatting. "Damn it. He's picking her up. Fuck! She's gonna get what she wanted." I muttered as I threw the book down.
My blood boiled. I was livid. But I didn’t want the guys to realize that. So I sat back and picked up my book and tried to read. But the book really was like "Days of our Lives" - a pretty pointless story. And I got tired of reading. So I thought I might wander off down the beach myself, that I might check out the scene, go for a swim or do something else. After all, I told myself, it wouldn’t get dark for ages yet. And I needed to get the anger out before I faced the traffic.
I started to walk along the still crowded beach. And I saw the blonde again, this time she was walking down from the kiosk with a drink in each hand- probably one for herself and one for the guy who had picked up the ipod – and her as well. She really wasn’t looking where she was going; her head was down, I was sure she was still sulking. And it was then I decided to be a real bitch. Oh yes, I knew, just knew, I could get my jollies by making her back down again.
I changed direction and walked rapidly towards a group of people in front of where the blonde was. I planned to head her off. And it worked. She just wasn’t looking at all. I stopped suddenly as some kid ran past - that couldn’t have happened better if I had paid the kid to do so - and blondie walked straight into me. "What the hell!" I started, still half turned away from blondie.
"What’s wrong with you? You stopped right in front of me!" blondie retorted.
She hadn’t worked out who I was – yeah, this just confirmed she was a bimbo.
"Yeah, what did you want me to do, knock down the kid in front of me, at least I was looking where I was going," and then I turned and looked at her. "Oh, it’s you!" I sneered as if surprised. "I guess you probably did want me to knock the kid down, so you – Ms Blondie - could go on your way. Wake up to yourself. "
Her mouth dropped. She glared at me speechless for a moment. "You again" she half hissed, half whispered.
"Yes, me again. And once again you’re causing trouble. I thought you’d learned your lesson." I stepped towards her, my tits almost brushed hers - there would have been less then half an inch between us. "But I see you haven’t. First time you were rude to me, this time you’re not watching what’s going on and you spill your drink and then you blame me for it. You need a lesson in good manners.”
She looked at me, her face told me she wanted to argue but she was scared. After a moment or two she tried to bluster, "Hey, it’s not my fault. It was an accident, and, anyway, it was my drink that got spilt so where’s the problem?"
"A minute ago you were blaming me, now you say it’s not your fault. Well, it is your fault you should watch where you’re going, this beach is crowded. You gotta expect kids to dash in front of people, kids are like that. And you spilt your drink on me. And now you’re asking me if I got a problem." I jabbed my finger at her tit. "It’s you who’s got the problem!" I jabbed again.
"Hey, stop that! You’re hurting me," she whimpered then shuffled back a little.
"It’s you who need a lesson in manners," I went on, ignoring her protest. I stepped forward and jabbed at her tit again. I was enjoying this so much! "It’s you who should be watching better." I jabbed again harder this time. "It’s you who should apologise to me.”
"Stop it or else!"
"Or else what?" I pinched her tit between my thumb and forefinger and twisted it hard.
She squealed.
"Or else what?" I repeated. "You need to learn manners," I twisted her tit again. "You need to apologise." I twisted her tit harder. "Now!"
"Stop it, please" she squealed. "Please!"
"That’s better, a bit of manners at last." I bit my tongue to stop from smirking; this bitch was such easy pickings. "You could have avoided all of this if you had just been a little more polite." I let go of her tit. "Now say ‘sorry’."
"I’m sorry" she said.
I knew it was time to put the boot in. "What for?"
"What do you mean?"
"What are you sorry for?"
She stared at me blankly until I grabbed both her tits and twisted them. "Stop please don’t hurt me, I said I’m sorry please." The bitch was almost begging me
"Yeah but what are you sorry for?" This was such fun.
"Oh, I don’t know! You wanted me to apologise and I have! Please isn’t that enough? Please let me go."
"Perhaps I’d better remind you" I tugged at her nipples and went on, "You crashed into me, you should say sorry for that." I twisted her nipples,
She squealed. "Okay! I’m sorry for crashing into you … now, please, please let me go."
Ignoring her I went on. "Oh no, not so fast. You told me it was my fault, you should say sorry for that too." I twisted both nipples again.
"Please, I’m sorry let me go please."
"And you should be sorry for back chatting me and being rude to me," I twisted her nipples again.
"Oh!" she bit off what she was about to say – I wasn’t sure if she was going to swear at me or beg me. "I’m sorry I was so rude please … let me go, I won’t bother you again. I won’t bother anyone again."
I dropped my hands. "Yes you can go; you’ve learned your lesson." She almost ran through the small crowd that had been watching. I smiled at one of the guys who I had seen when I had bullied the bitch earlier.
"You sure knew how to deal with her," he smiled back. "You’re one feisty babe. Would you like a beer? I saw you drinking Millers before, can I buy you another?"
"Sure thing." This was more like it, a guy who was buying me drinks. And I’d got that bitch where I wanted her. At last my day started to improve.
Half an hour later I was on my third Millers, leaning against the counter of the beach bar, the sun on my face while the man, who’d introduced himself as Bruce, had his hand gently kneading my butt. I was having a good time now. Bruce was kinda handsome in a rugged sort of way, personable and had a good sense of humour. We were getting on great. The, out of the blue, there came the sound a motorcycle coming down the beach road; I knew it had to be some high powered machine. It was so noisy. It got closer, the engine note altered as the rider changed down, slowed, then stopped. Instantly Bruce’s hand detached itself from my body and he took half a pace away from me. "Hey! What’s going on, Bruce?" I asked him. He didn’t say a word. He just walked away another pace.
I turned to follow his gaze and there was the owner of the motorcycle coming towards us. She was tall, slender, clearly very fit and walked with a confident swagger and she had a rack that must have cost someone several thousand dollars. There was more silicon in those boobs than there was at my local branch of PC World. She was wearing a baseball cap, a heavy black leather biker’s jacket that was fully opened to reveal a turquoise lycra boob tube – those falsies were clearly self-supporting – and what, if they had been made of denim and not black leather as they were, would have been called Daisy Dukes. Her legs were encased in fishnet tights and a pair of ankle length black leather boots completed the outfit. She slinked her way towards the bar and the tender, seeing her coming, opened a bottle of Bud in readiness…
As soon as she arrived, she grabbed the chilled beer in her left hand, kissed Bruce, then draped her right are over his shoulders, throwing me a dark scowl. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to for her body language said it all – he’s mine, bitch, now back off!
"What you doing here, Jan? I thought you were filming all day and most of the evening…"
"We were until the damned generators failed – again. I told them I’d take a look at them but no-they don’t listen to me, I’m just a woman. Instead they have to call in the suppliers ‘cos they’re under warranty. Anyway, the good news is that we all got sent home. The bad news is that I have to work Saturday now so we can get the thing back on schedule." The woman paused to take a slug of beer while I pondered where her strange accent came from; eventually the coin dropped – she was a Cockney, from the East End of London. And then I wanted to know where I had heard it before. I looked her up and down.
"To bad about Saturday, Jan…" Bruce sympathised.
"That’s the movie game," this Jan muttered as her eyes kept flicking in my direction.
‘Movie business?’ I thought to myself. ‘Yeah, right … looking at you, you just got to be in the porn side of things … sure would explain the surgically enhanced figure.’
After taking a long swallow from her bottle, she used the neck to point at me. "So who’s the Tellytubby?" she asked the man stood beside her…
And then I knew her. This bitch had betrayed herself, she called me tellytubby, just as she had before."Forgotten me Janet Brown, yeah I picked you, you had a good make over didn’t you. But then you needed it , you were a scrawny bitch back at the basement. And you were a rude and nasty one, I see that hasn’t changed. I always knew that you hadn’t died, like they say only the good die young. And you, bitch, were never good. And it was just so convenient you disappearing like that. So how’s Mikey these days. Or don’t you see him, after you cheated him out of his house, you threw him away." I remembered how this bitch had cheated me in a fight, I remembered how I had tried to get my own back by tricking her into going into a bar- off limits to people training at the old Basement gym. And then how she had gone on to bigger and better things for a while.
She slammed her bottle down on the bar counter and glared as me, "I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!" she snapped. "The name’s Jan von Brun and I don’t think I know anyone who has a cellar anywhere … Now, I suggest that you run along and walk into the sea until your cap floats, which, in your case, wouldn’t take long. Come on, Bruce, let’s get out of here. This place has started to bore me. Besides, I’m looking forward to giving Charlie a little present."
The man’ face lit up; clearly ‘Charlie’ was their little pet name for his cock. I had her worried. I knew that, she knew that . She just had to be Janet Brown, Jan von Brun was just too close to Janet Brown. The only person there who didn’t know what was gong on was Bruce and he had no idea what undercurrents were raging just below the surface of this conversation
"First time I’ve ever heard of a cockney with a German name, and not just a kraut but an aristocrat Kraut. But then it would suit you Janet K Brown, you always were power mad, always were obsessive. And what have you got to hide, why are you under a false name?" I turned to the man, "Bruce don’t be fooled by this bitch, she’ll use you suck you dry and throw you away. She’s done that to a few men already, you might be lucky and end up like Mikey, he only lost his house to this thieving bitch, but then you might be unlucky and be like Dalton – he lost his life. And he’s not the only one either."
"Oh come on Jenn, you gotta be imagining things here. You were a feisty girl on the beach and l loved chatting to you but you’re just throwing wild stories about now. " Bruce shook his head and looked at the Brown bitch who had said nothing. She didn’t need to. I knew I had yet again shot myself in the foot. And yet I knew I had her worried.
She slipped her arm through Bruce’s
I turned to her. "Bitch, you know what I’m talking about, and you know I’ll find you. Chicago isn’t that big a place.." I turned back to Bruce, "nice knowing you but I guess you’re on so short a leash that you won’t be back." He flinched a bit, no man likes being told he is tied to a woman’s skirtstrings. " And Janet, you need to keep him on a short leash too, he was just about to feel me up. Look at him, see how red his face is, that tells you I am telling the truth!"
Janet K Brown, Jan von Brun or whatever she wanted to call herself started to move away from me. Bruce came with her. She looked at me, her eyes were cold, as cold as her heart. No they weren’t cold they were blank as if there was nothing inside her. But that look told me she knew that indeed Bruce was about to feel me up, I wished I could have seen what happened when they were alone together.
I was sure this was Janet Brown, the cold hearted bitch who had tricked me, who had always come up smelling like roses no matter what I did, the emotionless scheming bitch who had fucked Dalton the owner of the basement until she had no more use for him and then cast him aside. He died in a bomb blast a few weeks after that. And this blank eyed bitch with no soul, no heart, had pretended to love a really decent guy – Mikey- who ran a small wrestling group- the kick ass angels- and had cheated him out of his house.
I had hated her for good reason. And I knew she had hated me because I tried to expose her scams. And now this bitch, this Janet Brown reborn didn’t do anything, she didn’t say anything. She just glanced at me as if she was reminding herself who I was. Then she shook her head "You got it wrong girl, I'm not Janet Brown" She turned and walked off with Bruce. I shuddered, I ’d forgotten just how focussed, how cruel Janet Brown could be. There were still rumours in the wrestling world that she had killed people in the past…
A few moments later, the bike’s engine exploded into life … then roared up the road heading back towards the city. Chicago was a big city but people in the acting game always found work hard to come by and they had agents, listings a whole network. And it wasn’t a big one either. An actress with a London accent but pretending to be German and a chest she didn’t mind flaunting wouldn’t be hard to track down.
And that I would do soon. But at that moment in the beach bar I was as mad as hell. All my bad day came flooding back to me. And this had made it even worse. I had just started to feel good again, I had put that blonde cowardly bimbo in her place and met up with a decent seeming guy only to have him taken away by Brown. I spat on the sandy floor.
