Tara and I had been watching Bridgette Jones. It was girl’s night and we had been talking, laughing, and drinking our way through the whole movie. I was wasted even by my own standards and Tara was at least as far gone as I was when the movie ended.
“I fucking love that movie,” Tara set her wineglass down and laughed. “I mean, I’m not a huge fan of Hugh Grant, but I would fuck the shit out of Colin Firth.” Her eyes were swimming.
I clicked the remote and leaned back on the couch. Tara had come over to my place because she was at the bottom of her rope. She had lost her job as a hostess a few weeks before and she hadn’t been able to pick up another one. Of course, her boyfriend, one of the cooks at the restaurant before it closed, had also just broken up with her. And I seemed to be her only friend.
“Yeah, he’s yummy,” I smiled and held my glass out for a refill.
“I have a confession,” Tara finished filling my glass. “I am going to be a cam girl.” She leaned back on the couch.