Drawing on the Dark Side of the BrainChapter 24 Athena Was a Virgin
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Drawing On The Dark Side Of The BrainChapter 19: Test Drive free porn video
I half expected Eva to be waiting outside the door for me again, but it was Mary that stopped me.
“Thank you.”
“Any time,” I said.
“You’ve dealt with panic attacks before. I could tell.”
“Like I said, you’re not alone. My mother was susceptible, though not as much since I hit high school. I have a lot of friends, though, who picked up the slack. People are all different. I try to be calm.”
“Girls must love you.”
I chuckled. Oh, if she only knew.
“It’s not just girls who have anxiety,” I said. “I’ve helped my friend Ford down a few times. Others. We all have different ways of coping. If there are special things that help you, you can tell me about them and I’ll try to incorporate them. When we happen to be in the same place. I’ve only met you twice and we didn’t talk at all the first time.”
“Yeah. Well. It’s hard to meet people. I wouldn’t have talked to you today if you hadn’t been there to focus on,” Mary said. “I’ve got to go. I guess I’ll see you Tuesday.”
I don’t know what came over me. I spoke before I thought clearly. “I’ve got a house and five housemates. We’re having dinner together on Saturday evening. Would you like to come?”
“Me and six guys? I don’t think so.”
“No! I’m sorry. My housemates are all female. We’re ... kind of a family. Oh. And there’s another artist coming over who wants me to paint her. We’re going to discuss the concept.” Shit! I forgot Eva was coming over. Well, so what? It isn’t a date.
“Um ... Uh ... text me the info and I’ll see how I feel. That’s a lot of people.”
“All I can say is that we try not to be threatening. Everyone is different and we don’t get in people’s faces.”
“Unless she’s having a panic-attack?” Mary laughed. “I’ll ... What’s your number? I’ll text you and you’ll have mine so you can send me directions.”
“You already have a date Saturday night! What were you thinking?” Sarah Lynn exclaimed.
“It’s not a date. I just invited a couple classmates over for dinner.”
“Girls,” Kelly clarified. “You invited a couple of girls over for dinner. On Saturday night. Date night. And they don’t even know each other. They’ll think you invited them over for a threesome.”
“I think it would be an octet. I wouldn’t leave the five of you out of it.”
“Je-ett,” Jas moaned out. “This could be serious. Text me their names and numbers so I can call them and make sure they’re prepared. We were all going to slip out after dinner and leave you here.”
“No! Don’t do that. I don’t want any more girlfriends!”
“Are we so bad that you don’t want any others?” Ariel asked.
“Wait! That’s not what I said. I love each of you. I don’t need anyone else.”
“Well, it sounds like at least one of them needs you. What you did in class today is just the kind of thing we love you for,” Char said.
“Okay,” Sarah Lynn said, taking control. “Jett has to work from god-awful until two on Saturday. That means we need to have the house cleaned up tomorrow and Saturday morning.”
“I’ll do it,” I moaned.
“Wrong. You’ll help. We are having guests Saturday. All of us. Will anyone be gone?”
“Char and I are working breakfast and lunch, so we won’t be home any earlier than Jett,” Jas said.
“I’m clear. I wanted to invite my mother over to hear me play Saturday morning. She always wants to make sure I’m practicing,” Ariel said. “But I can do cleaning, too.”
“I’m latest,” Kelly said. “I work ten till six on Saturday. I’m just hoping to be home in time for dinner.”
“Well, if everybody can take a room Friday night and do the vacuum, dust, and empty thing, Ariel and I can take care of the kitchen and bathrooms Saturday morning.”
“Thanks for volunteering me, Sarah Lynn,” Ariel pouted.
“Honey, I’ll give you an orgasm on my tongue for every bathroom you clean.”
Ariel bounced up and sat in Sarah Lynn’s lap, giving her a steamy kiss that I thought might progress into advance payment. Sarah Lynn regained control.
“Two exclusions are Jett’s and Kelly’s studios. You each get a room to clean on Friday, but you’re responsible for your own studios, too.” We nodded. That was always assumed. We had private studio space and we were responsible for keeping it clean. “Jett. You are responsible for dinner at six-thirty sharp. The only thing that might delay it would be if Kelly has trouble getting home. Eight for dinner, unless one of us falls madly in love at school tomorrow and brings home our date.” I started to say they weren’t dates but she scowled at me. That shut me up. “Remember, you’ll have guests to entertain as well. We’ll trickle in and help with that, but dinner is your responsibility.”
We all agreed to our responsibilities, but Jas wasn’t quite ready to let it drop.
“Jett, honey, we love you. We know you didn’t plan dates for Saturday night. We hope the girls will just become good friends, like our bunch back in high school. But girls think different than guys. I guarantee they both think they are your date. Having other girls living with you just means it should be a safe first date. But don’t be surprised if one or both of them are still hanging around at ten, hoping for an overnight invitation.”
Not a chance in hell.
Slaughtering 101. Not my favorite course in the world.
Richelieu Processing Plant is not the biggest slaughterhouse in the country by a longshot. Big houses can process as many as ten to a hundred-fifty head of cattle an hour. Sound like a lot? Well, consider the fact that over thirty million head of cattle are slaughtered for food in the United States every year. Richelieu is capable of processing up to twenty-five head of cattle an hour, but seldom reaches that capacity. They also slaughter hogs and sheep. The number is dependent more on their staffing levels than on the capacity of the plant itself. There are over a thousand head in the feedlot.
We’re lucky. The Richelieu family bought an existing operation back in the seventies. They’d heard a lecture by Temple Grandin and hired her to redesign the pens and slaughterhouse for the best in humane animal care. Look her up at Grandin.com if you really want the details of the process. I’ll just say that the animals were calm when they were put down and the butchers were efficient. Our first class was a walk-through of the entire process from transportation through to hanging carcass.
I’m not squeamish about meat. Grandpa had been a meat cutter before he bought the grocery store where I work as an assistant meat cutter now. Once when I was little, I declared that steak was my favorite animal. I knew the relationship between moo-cows on a farm and hamburger on the grill. Like many people who are half-intelligent, I was amused by the Facebook meme that made the rounds in which an animal rights activist declared that hunting and ranching were evil and we should get all our meat from grocery stores where it’s made. People are so disconnected from what they eat. They think it came from a Star Trek replicator.
Nonetheless, I viewed the process that first day with the awareness that sometime in the next few weeks, I was going to participate directly in the karma of my food. It was a sobering thought.
Thinking of the incredible serpentine path that the cattle follow to their death, though, reminded me of the rest of Temple Grandin’s research and study. Geez, the woman is older than my Grandpa by a few years. She’s one of the country’s greatest animal behaviorists. And she was autistic! For years, she couldn’t stand to be touched and crowds and strangers made her extremely anxious. She actually invented a hugging machine that was based on the same philosophy as the chutes she designed to calm cattle. A lot of what we know about dealing with anxiety came from her research.
When I got home after class, I showered first and then started work on cleaning. My responsibility was the dining room, which was kind of a give-away. Vacuum and dust. I put out two folding chairs for our guests the next day along with the six mis-matched chairs that came with the mostly furnished house. When I finished vacuuming, I just carted the machine upstairs and did the floors in all three bedrooms to relieve Char and Kelly. In addition to dusting, they had to change all the beds and then Kelly had to do her upstairs studio, too. Of course, we all knew that it wouldn’t take her long to do her studio. She kept it immaculate for her camming.
My studio was a little more complicated. I had a big piece of canvas on the floor and it was too loose to vacuum easily—at least with the big machine—and moving all the supplies and furniture off of it to take it outside and shake was a hassle. I swept it with a broom and made sure everything was dusted with non-allergenic dusting spray to clean all the surfaces in the room. I knew if the Dragon Lady was coming to listen to Ariel play the piano tomorrow, she’d run her fingers over every surface to check for dust—including the tops of the door frames.
With all six of us working Friday afternoon, the cleaning went quickly and was pretty much fun, too. We chatted and there were more than a few kisses shared with pats and fondling tossed in. I got to thinking, though, about what I learned at the slaughterhouse and the fact that I’d invited a high-anxiety girl to dinner with seven other people the next night. I was trying to figure out how we should prepare in case she had a panic attack.
On Saturday after work, I shopped for dinner groceries. It was only fair that I was springing for dinner since I’d invited the guests. But I didn’t feel so flush that I could buy steaks and lobster for eight. Good old reliable meatloaf was on the menu. I did pick up four pounds of ninety-eight percent fat free prime ground beef. I bought baking potatoes and salad makings. I stopped by the bakery and picked up a chocolate and strawberry cheesecake. Even being conservative, dinner was costing me close to eighty bucks and I was thankful that we didn’t drink any alcohol. Bottles of sparkling water were expensive enough.
I got everything ready to put in the oven at five o’clock, had the salad made and in the refrigerator, and had the table set before I heard the knock at five after four. I wondered which of the girls would arrive first. All my girlfriends were at home except Kelly but they were staying discreetly in different spaces so they wouldn’t overwhelm the guests all at once.
They were both there. I hoped I’d managed to get the door before they started talking to each other.
“Hi, Eva. Welcome, Mary,” I said brightly. Eva stepped forward and gave me a hug—sort of possessively, I thought—before Mary got through the door. I let go of her and had to sort of push her out of the way so Mary could get in.
Vera
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