Two Bimbos From Queens Walk Into a Bar...

"What are we gonna do tonight?" asked Carla as she lined her left eye with the Ultraflesh Black Magic Eyeliner that she bought at the dollar bin at Ricky's Beauty Supply. "I think since our husbands took the kids to the game, we should take advantage of it and have a girl's night out. Whadya say, Loretta?"

"Jeez, Carla, I dunno. Ain't it enough that I came over to yous apartment and we ain't gots the kids? Look, I even opened a box of zinfandel. By the way, your ice trays suck, you know that, right?"

Carla began work on her right eye and shrugged. "I just wanna do something crazy tonight like we used to do at Sacred Heart, you know? Live a little?"

Carla and Loretta had gone to high school together and both gotten pregnant at the same time thanks to a pinky swear they had made when they were both drinking shots of Jägermeister. They thought it would be fun to have babies who would always love them so they each allowed their boyfriends to go all the way and were shopping for baby clothes at the Baby Gap within two months. They both got jobs there too in order to take advantage of the 40% discount. Their children were now 10 years old.

Loretta poured herself another cup of wine. "So what, you don't wanna just hang out here and watch Grey's Anatomy no more? Why the eff did I bother bringing the DVD then? Jesus H. Christ on a cracker, Carla, what gives?"

Carla looked in her mirror. She put her hands up to the sides of her face and pulled the skin back. "I just feel like we're gettin' old, ya know? I mean, we're 26 already. Life is flying past us and we never do anything we ever said we'd do with our lives."

"You's crazy, Carla. We have great lives. Our boys are best friends, our husbands both got city jobs and you're next in line for shift manager at the Baby Gap. Whadya want, a freakin' palace?"

"Remember what you promised me in the cafeteria our freshman year, Loretta? What about that?"

"Carla, I was 14 years old when I said that. I am not making out with you. Lemme pour you a cup of zin over ice and we'll watch the TV."

Carla spun around from her makeup table. "Not that promise, Loretta. You told me that we would always be friends and we would always take the road that was fun. I wanna do something fun tonight. Exciting. Just me and you, like the old days." Carla took a deep breath and leaned toward her best friend. She whispered, "I bought a fifth of Jäger and a pack of cigarettes. Crazy enough for you?"

A smile slowly came across Loretta's face. "Is the Jäger in the fridge?"

"Behind the milk."

"Are the cigarettes Virgina Slims?"

"What else would I buy, Loretta?"

The two friends went to the kitchen laughing and pulled the Jäger out from the refrigerator. "I don't have any shot glasses so let's just use sippy cups. And let's go out on the deck before we light the cigarettes. I don't want Anthony to know."

Ten minutes and three shots apiece later, Carla and Loretta were sitting on the fire escape reliving their youth. "Remember how we used to call these Vagina Slimes?" said Loretta as smoke billowed out from her mouth and nose and drifted off into the alley. "We was so funny back then, Carla, we really was. I'm glad we're doing this. I feel like a little girl again having cocktails and cigarettes. It's just like bein' in the bathroom at Sacred Heart all over again."

"Except now we're old enough to do it legally," said Carla. She gently let out Jäger burp that also produced a little puff of smoke. "It doesn't feel as dangerous as it used to. Let's go out and do something bad. Really bad."

"What? What are we gonna do that's bad? Cross against the light? Try to use an expired coupon at the Met Food? What, Carla?"

"I have an idea. C'mon."

They teased their hair and added more eyeliner and headed out the door after taking another Jäger shot. They were on their way to create havoc. They were ready to show the world that life does not end at 26 years old. There is more to Carla and Loretta than just raising children, working at Baby Gap and making sausage and peppers every other Wednesday. As they crossed Queens Boulevard they lit up new Virgina Slims. The wind was cool and breezy. It carried away the smoke but did not move their hair thanks to the Salon Grafix Super Hold Unscented Mousse that was on sale two-for-one at Winn's Discount Dollar Store.

"Jeez, Carla? We're crossin' the boulevard? Where you takin' me, the North Pole?"

"Don't worry, I know a place that we can go and do something bad and wrong and it's gonna make us feel like we're fifteen years old again."

"Well, slow down, will ya? I'm wearing flip flops for cryin' out loud."

Two minutes later they were standing in front of a restaurant. The sign on the door clearly stated that it was closing at 11:00. It was 10:55. "What are we doin' here, Carla? I ain't even hungry and they's closed anyway."

"Wait three minutes and I'll tell you."

Inside, the restaurant was empty except for one waiter who was finishing up his sidework. He had just dumped the coffee and blew out the candles and was about to run his report for the night and get off early. At 10:58, he saw the door open. He watched two overly made-up ladies came in and sat at the bar. "Hi ladies. I'm sorry, but we're closing at 11:00."

The one with raccoon eyes from way too much cheap eyeliner said, "I know you close at 11:00 but according to my watch it's only 10:58. My friend and I would like a drink." The other lady put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. One of her flip-flops fell off her foot when she crossed her legs revealing the remnants of a very sad pedicure.

The waiter looked at his watch. "Are you serious? It's one minute until we close."

"Well then, we made it just in time. One Margarita and one white russian, please." Raccoon Eyes turned to Bad Pedicure and said, "See, I told you we'd do something bad. This is awful, right?"

The waiter looked at his manager, fearful of his response. "Coming right up, ladies," he said.

The bitchy waiter rang in the drinks and handed them to the women. He moved to the corner where he quietly seethed as he watched them sip their drinks for forty minutes. His chance of leaving early was dashed by two bimbos from Queens with cheap ass clothes and bad make-up. When they left, there were three dollars on the bar. As he unlocked the door to let them out, the woman with flip flops said, "Carla, this was the best night I've had in five years. You're my best friend, you know that, right?"

Carla wiped a tear from her eye, smudging her eyeliner into even more of a mess and said, "Sometimes we just gotta get out into the world and shake things up, Loretta, that's all I'm sayin'. And goin' into a restaurant one minute before they close and making the waiter stay way too long and leaving him a shitty tip is just about the worst thing I can think of to do, I swear to God."

"Good night, ladies,'" said the waiter as he shut the door and locked it. "Bitches," he continued once he was sure they were out of hearing distance.