Tag: Sexism

Story

A PIG IN A POKE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

As soon as Briana Jeffries woke up she knew her AC had broken down. Her townhouse was like a sauna. She called the landlord to report the malfunction, then got ready for work. Stepping outside, she was enveloped in a cloud of oppressive heat. 

Briana’s townhouse didn’t have a garage – only street parking was available. Slipping off her suit jacket, she adjusted her shoulder bag and began walking to her car. With every step she took, a bead of sweat rippled down her neck and back until her blouse clung to her drenched body. She cursed her high heels and pantyhose but the real estate agency where she worked demanded appropriate attire at all times. 

“I really should switch to McConnell Realty. They’re much more relaxed than Dalton & Banks” she thought as she got into her car and switched on the AC. Sure, the commission she earned was great but she wasn’t truly happy. And dealing with that smarmy, perpetually tanned Joe del Vecchio was nauseating.

First on the agenda was the Monday meeting, then Briana’s client at 10:30. With five houses to show, it was going to be a long day. As soon as she entered the office, Joe was all over her. “Looking hot, Briana. Nice lipstick. Looks all pouty. I like that. I’m gonna start calling you BJ. Know what that means?” She always hated her initials.

What a dick. The only reason Joe was tolerated at the agency was the older female clients adored him and he could charm the panties off them – and probably did if it meant making a sale. Ignoring him, Briana sat at the mahogany table between two colleagues. 

“Attention!” Charlotte Dalton announced. “We have a large number of senior citizens today who want to see penthouses. Briana and Joe, I want you working together.” Briana sighed in exasperation, already defeated knowing she’d be with Joe all day. Joe grinned and winked across the big conference table, chewing on his pen.

“What a Neanderthal” Briana thought. 

By day’s end Briana was sick of Joe and couldn’t wait to be rid of him but he insisted on walking her to her car. “Let’s get a drink, moisten that luscious BJ mouth.” Involuntarily Briana licked her lips; Joe leaned in for a kiss as Briana slid into her car.

“Stop it, Joe! I just want to go home, take a shower and go to bed.” She immediately regretted her choice of words. Joe bent down and whispered in Briana’s ear. “You read my mind, baby. How’s about we have us a little party?” His fingers played with the delicate chain that dangled between Briana’s breasts. She pushed his hand away and drove off, nearly knocking him off his feet. It was at that moment Briana decided that was her last day at Dalton & Banks. 

Arriving back at home, Briana was grateful to find the AC working and the house delightfully cool. Closing the door behind her, she kicked off her shoes, peeled off her damp clothes and headed for the bathroom. Briana slid open the glass door and stepped into the shower. The warm water was so relaxing. She turned around so the water could run down her back. Briana felt the stress leaving her neck and shoulders and she sighed contentedly. “Ah, this is heaven.”

Funny how your mind plays tricks on you sometimes. Eyes closed, Briana thought she heard a noise outside the bathroom. She stood still, listening; nothing. Reaching for the shampoo, Brianna thought she heard a noise again. She listened intently; this time she was sure. SOMEONE WAS IN HER HOUSE!!

Instinct kicked in and Briana lunged from the shower to lock the bathroom door just as Joe del Vecchio burst in, knocking her backwards into the shower. Briana’s head slammed into the tiles; blood tricked down her face and into her eyes. As she began to lose consciousness, she slid down the shower wall and barely made out the image of Joe running from her bathroom. She fell face down onto the shower floor, blood swirling down the drain. Clutched in her hand was Joe’s monogrammed pocket square.

Briana was right. That was her last day at Dalton & Banks. 

NAR © 2023

FOWC with Fandango — Party
Heaven

From the White Album, this is the Beatles doing “Piggies”.

Please join me today
at The Rhythm Section
for another edition of
Metal Madness 🤘🏼
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

SILENT TEARS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Pamela sat huddled in the corner of the school office, her hands tightly clutching the sweater of her school uniform around her. A few buttons on her blouse were missing and the sleeve was torn at the shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes swollen from crying and she chewed her bottom lip nervously. No one paid any attention except to toss an occasional accusatory glance her way. 

She ran her fingers through her dark hair, realizing her pony tail had come undone. She sniffled and wiped her nose on a tissue in the pocket of her sweater. Staring down at her penny loafers, she was startled by the sudden shrill ringing of the phone on the secretary’s desk. 

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir” the secretary said into the phone receiver, then hung up and called out “Pamela, Principal Hoffman will see you now.”

Pamela rose slowly and gathered her school books, still clutching her sweater. “Quickly, Pamela! You mustn’t keep Principal Hoffman waiting!” the secretary snapped at her. 

Pamela entered the principal’s office and was shocked to see the drama coach Mr. Booker there. She quickly looked away, her face turning crimson. She felt naked standing there before them, their lecherous eyes staring at her. 

“Well, Pamela, do you know why you’re here?” asked Principal Hoffman. 

Pamela looked down at the floor shaking her head ‘no’. 

“Look at me and answer the question, you insolent little slut!” yelled the principal, aroused by the feelings he was experiencing for yet another woman-child standing trembling before him. 

Tears ran down Pamela’s cheeks as she looked at both men, the smug, loathsome expression on Mr. Booker’s face filling her with dread. 

He slowly walked up to Pamela until he was close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. “You filthy liar. You know exactly why you’re here” Booker spat out. “You came to me backstage after play rehearsal, rubbed up against me and ripped open your blouse.” He reached out and grabbed her chin. “Admit it now before you get in more trouble!” and obscene thoughts of all the things he’d like to do to Pamela raced through his mind. He was repulsive. 

Pushing his hand off her face, Pamela cried out “No! I didn’t do anything! You did! You’re the liar, not me!” 

Mr. Booker caught hold of her wrist in his large hand. “Then explain why some of your buttons are missing?” The teacher dared her to speak.

Pamela said nothing at first, then looked into Mr. Booker’s dark eyes and yelled “Because you’re the one who tore my blouse, you pervert!”

Booker raised his hand to slap her but Principal Hoffman banged his fist on the desk. “Pamela, this is a Christian school and we do not tell lies nor do we act in promiscuous ways. Now admit what Mr. Booker said is true.” 

She remained silent and shook her head in defiance.

“Fine, Pamela. You’re dismissed. We will be calling your parents this evening to inform them of your disgusting behavior. How disappointed they will be to hear you are following in your sister’s salacious habits. Now, get out!” 

Pamela left the office and ran home. She knew her parents wouldn’t return from work for another few hours. She threw herself onto her bed and called her older sister. “Mia” she cried into the phone. 

“Pammy, what’s wrong?” Mia asked. 

All Pamela said was “Mr. Booker.” 

Mia’s heart sank and she felt sick to her stomach. “That bastard! Listen, Pammy” Mia said. “Mom and Dad didn’t believe me and they won’t believe you either. There’ll be hell to pay when Principal Hoffman and Mr. Booker spew their lies to Mom and Dad. Listen, Pammy. Change out of your uniform and toss it in your backpack with some clothes. Don’t take too much. We want it to look like you were never home. Walk as calmly as you can to the bus stop on the corner and use your school pass to get on the bus to Journal Square. From there, switch to a PATH train to the end of the line in Hoboken. I’ll be at the terminal waiting to pick you up; you remember my car is a blue CRV? Someone might be able to ID you getting on the bus to Journal Square but they’re likely to lose track of you after you switch to the train to Hoboken. You’ll be safe with me and Ronnie, Pammy. Don’t worry; we’ve got big plans to get out of this hell hole. where we can be safe.” 

Pamela did exactly as her sister said. She left her house and got on the bus to Journal Square. She didn’t see anyone and she never looked back. When she finally arrived in Hoboken, she spotted her sister’s car across the street. She ran to it and jumped into the passenger seat in front.

Without even a glance in her sister’s direction, Pamela buckled her seat belt and breathlessly exclaimed “Oh, Mia. I’m so glad to be here.” When the doors locked automatically, Pamela looked up. To her horror her sister Mia wasn’t in the driver’s seat; it was her boyfriend, Ronnie, and he was waving a very sharp knife dangerously close to Pamela’s face. Pamela always had a bad feeling about Ronnie when her sister first hooked up with him but Mia wouldn’t listen to anything people had to say.

“Why, hello Pammy. I’m so glad you’re here, too. Look at you, all grown up now.” Very slowly Ronnie traced the outline of Pam’s neck with his knife and popped off the top button of her blouse, then the second and the third. He stared at her exposed bra as he rubbed his hard crotch. “Oh yeah, sweetness. You’re getting me all excited. Yes sir. We’re leaving here and driving down south where no one will find us. We’re all gonna have us a whole lotta fun.” He reached over and ran his rough hands across her breasts. “I bet you taste like sweet Georgia peaches.”

It was then that Pamela heard moaning coming from the back seat and turned to see Mia on the floor; she was bound and gagged and wearing only her underwear. Just as the sister’s terrified eyes locked, Ronnie tossed a blanket over Mia and drove off.

Ronnie flipped on the radio and started singing along to a country song as Pamela looked straight ahead and wept silently.

NAR © 2023

Please join me today
In The Groove
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

SINS OF THE FATHER

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

A dozen years had passed since Danny Cameron had seen his parents. Perhaps he would have handled things differently had he known this estrangement would be the outcome. He asked himself that question every day and the answer was always “no”.

Danny excelled at football in college and had a shot at going pro but his real passion was music. His dream was not shared by his father, Donal, who constantly pushed Danny in the direction of professional sports. Night after night Danny was subjected to the same diatribe:

“What the hell kind of musical career do you think you’re gonna have?
If you think you’re gonna be the next Paul McCartney you can forget that pipe dream!
Danny, you can be a great quarterback on any pro team you want,
make millions and have women beating down your door.
You’d be a damn fool to let that opportunity pass you by!”

Danny couldn’t stand another lecture and the dam burst. He yelled at his father in frustration:

“Dad! Enough! Football may be your dream but it’s not mine.
I know it won’t be easy but I’m determined to pursue music.
Forget the money and all the women. I’ve met someone and we’re moving in together.
It’s time I started living my life on my terms.”

Before Donal could respond, Danny’s mother Fiona chimed in excitedly:

“Danny! Why didn’t you tell us you have a girlfriend?! This is so exciting!
What’s her name? How did you meet?
We must invite her to dinner. I want to hear all about ……..”

“STOP!” Danny shouted. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I have a boyfriend. His name is Richard. I’M GAY!! Mom, Dad – I’m gay.”

And there it was – not exactly what Danny planned but the words were out and there was no taking them back. Donal was enraged; he lashed out, slapping Danny’s face so hard he almost fell over.

“GAY? Call it what it is, Danny – you’re a fucking queer! You make me sick!
Get out of my sight! Get out and don’t come back!!”

Grabbing his phone and car keys, Danny stormed out. He moved in with Richard, a law school student by day/valet parking attendant by night. Danny had a couple of gigs in a bar but that didn’t last and he eventually got a job as a singing waiter. He hated it but it helped pay the bills.

Fiona secretly phoned Danny from time to time and managed to get his belongings to him, but father and son never communicated.

Richard passed the bar exam and landed a great job. Danny had written several “damn good songs” as Richard called them but he just couldn’t catch a break. Richard encouraged him to be patient and keep trying.

Friday was a busy night at the restaurant. Danny was singing “Something” to a newly-engaged couple when he saw his boyfriend Richard come in with a group of people. When Danny’s song was over, Richard motioned him to the table and said “You have a great voice, man! Do you sing anything other than Beatles songs?”

Curious as to why Richard was pretending he didn’t know him, Danny played along replying that he had written a number of songs.

“Well, how about singing one of your own songs for us?” Richard asked.

Wondering where this was all going, Danny sat at the piano and sang one of his original songs. The people in the restaurant loved him. One of the men at Richard’s table handed Danny his card and said “Call me tomorrow”. The card read ‘Bob Ludwig, Gateway Mastering Studios, Inc.’. Trying to keep his cool, Danny expressed his thanks but his heart was pounding and his head was about to explode; Bob Ludwig was a mega recording producer!

Thanks to Richard and that meeting with Bob Ludwig, Danny’s career took off and he became a sensation. They talked about getting married and having kids some day. Richard and Danny were the happiest they’d ever been.

Then the call came from Danny’s mother; his father was gravely ill. Fiona said Donal was asking for him. After all these years Danny knew it would not be easy seeing him again; he reluctantly acquiesced.

Danny returned to his childhood home where Donal was being privately treated. Waving Fiona and his nurse out of the room, Donal beckoned Danny to come closer. He could barely speak and Danny bent down, his ear next to his father’s lips.

Donal rasped, his breathing labored:

“I hear you’re a star, a real big shot. You’re famous!
You’re living the life you always wanted, aren’t you, Danny?
Everyone adores you but to me you’re still nothing but a disgusting queer!”

Danny stared into his father’s cold, unforgiving eyes; all he saw looking back at his was loathing and revulsion. Devoid of all emotion, Danny reached for Donal’s oxygen tube and squeezed it as tightly as he could, cutting off his air supply. Wheezing, Donal’s eyes bulged and his face turned blue; then he stopped breathing.

Danny straightened the crimped oxygen tube and walked out of his father’s room without looking back. Hugging his mother tightly, he whispering “It’s over, Mom. It’s finally over”.

NAR © 2023

Check us out at https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

THE BATTLE OF THE SEXISTS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

“Debonair, sophisticated and charming” sighed Alice Carter. “Cary Grant and David Niven are so good in that movie. I always loved ‘The Bishop’s Wife’. They don’t make classy movies like that anymore, you know?” 

“And that Loretta Young is some beauty, too” replied Alice’s husband Ralph. “Those high cheekbones, full lips, tiny waist and long legs – a real looker, that one.” 

“And so chic, too, Ralph. You always knew a real lady when you saw one. Well, I better start dinner. I’m making your favorite – sausage and potato casserole.” 

“I hope you made a lemon meringue pie for dessert.” 

“Of course! I know what you like, Ralph.” 

Returning to the den after starting dinner, Alice found Ralph was watching the news. 

“Why aren’t there more delightful men on the news, men like Peter Jennings?” 

“Because he’s dead” replied Ralph.

“How about Mike Wallace?”

“Also dead” Ralph reminded Alice. 

“Look at this clown, Glenn Beck, wearing jeans and sneakers on a news program! Give him a beanie and he’d look just like one of those little rascal kids. What ever happened to that nice Matt Lauer?” 

“Fired for sexual misconduct” replied Ralph.

“Good Lord! I don’t believe it! Well, what about Bill O’Reilly, Eric Bolling and Charlie Rose?” 

“Fired, fired and, oh yeah … fired. Alice, can I please have a moment of peace and quiet to watch the news?” 

“Well, pardon me for living!” she sniffed. “I’m going to check on the sausage casserole.” 

When she returned Alice stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh my God, Ralph! What on earth are you watching now?” 

“It’s still the news, Alice. In fact, it’s called ‘The News Channel’. I didn’t change the station.” 

“The ‘X Rated News Channel’, you mean! No wonder those poor men got fired. What red-blooded guy could resist floozies like that showing off their goods on national tv? They look like hookers! And look at you sitting there in your underwear all bug-eyed. I’m sure as soon as my back is turned you’ll be jacking off to these little twats. Disgusting!” Alice harrumphed. 

“Talk about disgusting! Since when do you talk like that, Alice? Just be quiet. You don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about. I bet you didn’t even know Russia has topless newscasters? These women are professionals. They’re lawyers, professors and judges, not bimbos with sketchy unspecified qualifications who just walked in off the street.” 

“Yeah, they’re highly qualified alright … as teasers and flirts!” Alice snapped. “Take that one on the end with the blonde hair, fishnet stockings and spike heels. Look at how skimpy her dress is. Did they run out of fabric? Her boobs are straining to break loose from her top and the bottom is so short – if she uncrosses her legs we’ll all find out if she’s a real blonde or not! Her other job is probably pole dancing!” 

“Woah, woah, woah! That’s enough, Alice. Look, this here is Megyn Kelly. She has a law degree, is a journalist, an author and a world-famous political commentator as well as a news anchor. The dark-haired one on the end is Kimberly Guilfoyle. She’s a political analyst, an attorney and former First Lady of San Francisco. Now she’s engaged to Donald Trump, Jr. I’m sure their families are very proud. Besides being absolutely stunning, they’re brilliant. Why don’t you just run back into the kitchen like a good girl and let me enjoy my one indulgence.” 

“Indulgence??” Alice countered. “So you admit it’s all about cheap thrills and nothing to do with the news. You’re such a pig, Ralph!” 

“Whatever. How’s that sausage coming, anyway? I’m hungry.”

Alice saw red. “Here’s an idea for you, Ralph. Get Kimberly whats-her-name to heat up your sausage. I’m sure she’s highly qualified!”

NAR © 2019

Uncategorized

HELLO, GOODBYE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

RITA’S STORY


It was the night of the office Christmas party and I was dreading it. I knew Kevin was going to be there. After our breakup, I couldn’t stand being around him. I thought he was a great guy; I was wrong. He was only interested in sex. Kevin never missed a party, a chance to get drunk and hit on me. I wasn’t there long before he spotted me. I turned and headed for the restroom. When I came out, Kevin was waiting…..drunk, leaning against the wall, drink in hand. He stumbled towards me slurring “hey, baby”, pushing the drink in my face. I walked past him but he grabbed my arm and dragged me into the supply room. He spun me around, smashing his lips against mine, tearing at the buttons on my blouse and shoving his hand up my skirt. Somehow I managed to push him off me. Kevin was so drunk, he stumbled and fell backwards. I ran out into the street, gasping as the cold rain washed my body of Kevin’s stink. I couldn’t go to my apartment. Hailing a cab, I fled to the safety of my parents house…..safe from Kevin. 

KEVIN’S STORY

It was the night of the office Christmas party and I was dreading it. I knew Rita was going to be there. We had a ‘thing’ once which ended badly….for her. These parties…..I only go to them because it’s expected but they really aren’t my thing. I pop in, make the rounds and take off. I was set to leave when Rita snuck up behind me at the coat closet. Wrapping her arms around my waist, she tongued my ear whispering incoherently. When I turned around to free myself, she pulled me into the closet, fumbling with my belt buckle. Rita was grinding against me, her dress riding up to her waist. I was trapped by a drunken sex machine reeking of cheap perfume and bourbon. This is not how I like being with a woman and I was disgusted. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Suddenly Rita went limp in my arms and crumbled onto a pile of coats. I grabbed my jacket and made a beeline for the door. The air was cold  but I knew it would clear the smell of Rita from my clothes and out of my head. 

NAR © 2017