Just Another Tuesday

I rol l over and groan into my pillow as the doorbell rings. Today is my day off and the last thing I want to do is leave the comfort of my bed. Choosing to ignore it, I grab the blankets and pull them over my head, concealing myself in the stale warmth of my own body heat.

The bell chimes again and then again as if an intrigued toddler had discovered something new and couldn't stop pressing the button. With a growl boarding on primal, I throw back the blankets and march to the front door in my oversized shirt and underwear, prepared to completely destroy the hopes and dreams of whomever has deemed themselves worthy of disturbing my peace.

Nearly tearing it from it's hinges, I yank open the front door with words of fury on my tongue and stop short as a camera flashes and several strangers cheer. The majority of my porch is taken up by a giant white cardboard check--the kind you only see in the movies and commercials and don't actually believe are real--with three heads peeking above it and three sets of legs below it like some sort of mythical creature. In unison the creature moves forward, raising the check as if I hadn't seen it the first time.

I close the door and reopen it, to make sure I'm not imagining it, but there in plain block letters is my name AMELIA BLAKE and the bold words TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS.

A ridiculously girly squeak escapes my lips and in all honesty I might have peed myself just a little with all of the excitement.

Everything next happens in a blur, I'm asked to stand outside on the porch and hold the check so they can post a picture on their website. (Later on I will discover that my lack of pants and with my torso covered by the vastness of the check it will appear as if I'm naked in the photo.) I'm given the large cardboard check to keep as a memento and then handed a thin envelope with the real check inside.

The cardboard check is set against the wall. The real one on the table. I float to the bathroom, still dazed in this trance of disbelief. I turn on the shower and move my body beneath the stream of water so hot the bathroom steams up and my caramel skin begins to pinken and sting. As I'm standing there, enjoying the feeling of my own flesh being burnt off it dawns on me.

I just won twenty thousand dollars.

I JUST WON TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS.

I scream one of those obnoxious high pitched fan girl screams like I'm seeing my favorite boy band in concert.

Running through the apartment like a completely naked and dripping headless chicken, I find my phone and call my sister, Katie, and incoherently scream the news to her until she is incoherently screaming with me.

While I wait for her to come over I get dressed in a simple sunflower covered sundress, truthfully the nicest piece of clothing I own that doesn't have stains or tears or fading, and pull out my black Moleskin notebook that I keep track of my finances in. It's a bit worn around the edges, but sturdy and reliable. I've had it for months and hopefully will have it for several more.

Katie's letting herself into my building less than twenty minutes later and we indulge into some more incoherent screaming and jumping before I start laughing so hard that I cry and sink to my knees in the middle of my living room floor.

"Is this really happening?" I study the frayed carpet fibers in the area rug I picked up three years ago as if it's wear-and-tear will hold all the answers.

"Totes ma goats!" Katie cheers, picking up the cardboard check. "Dude, these things are real?"

"Apparently." After peeling myself off of the floor, I slip the real check into my purse and slide into my shoes. I don't know where I'm going but now the possibilities seem near endless.

Katie suggests the bank is probably a good place to start.

The entire way to the bank she's asking me what I'm going to do with the money. What's the first thing I'll do? What will I buy? Where do I want to go? And I just nod along to all of her suggestions because I don't know what I'll do with the money. I've never had this much money at once and I never honestly thought I would. Working on a cashier's salary you don't really expect to be carrying around this kind of dough. You don't plan for things that you don't think will never happen.

At the ATM I splurge and spend the $6 upcharge fee to make the funds instantly available because guess what, I can afford that now.

We go for massages and I indulge in the two hour session at this new place that opened up a couple months ago. It has raging reviews and prices to match. It is expensive but Katie just shrugs and says "What's a couple hundred for a full body rejuvenation massage with hot stones and deep tissue?" Despite my initial reservations, I went along. I selected this particular activity first because my sister would be forced into silence for a little bit and I'd be able to think about how to spend this money.

I'm in desperate need to replace my beater of a car which is now more rust than it is actual car. I can spend a good $7500 on a nice used car. I would also like to pay off the $1000 on my credit card and put a good $5000 toward my remaining student loans. And then probably $2500 in my savings because let's be real, it isn't every day you randomly win $20,000. So that leaves me with $4000 for "fun money." I could go on vacation. I could redecorate my apartment. I could get massages every other day. I could eat at that five start restaurant downtown and order whatever I wanted without having to worry about not being able to afford groceries.

A long pleasurable moan trembles from my lips as the masseuse digs his palms into my shoulders. He has large strong hands and for the briefest of moment I indulge the thought of his hands sliding down further and further over my back until he is just at the edge of the sheet before his fingers slip under and massage the roundness of my buttock before going down further and his warm strong fingers follow the curve of my thighs in until they are touching the dampness between my legs. I'll moan, my body aching for more.

And then he'll whisper, "ma'am, we're all done."

"What?" I mumble into the headrest, I couldn't have heard him right. We were just getting started.

"We're all done. That's the end of your massage."

"Oh." I'm thankful that I'm face down so he can't see the violent blush that burns my neck and cheeks. "Yes, um, thank you."

"Of course." He steps out and I quickly dress, attempting to ignore my aroused body, and join my sister in the lobby.

After a filling lunch at our favorite little dinner, we head to the outlet mall and I go into shops that I've never even glanced at before. I buy a gorgeous navy blue dress with a golden trim that probably costs more than half of my possessions and a pair of killer studded stilettos to match. I buy us both a new wardrobe consisting of the softest blouses and sexiest jeans I will probably ever wear in my entire existence.

Next is the furniture store and I leave will a stylist inspired living room set complete with soft green sofa and arm chair as well as a deep oak colored lamp and matching coffee table.

Despite my sister's discomfort, I drag her into an adult store and head straight for the vibrators. I've had my eye on the Turbo Lover 3000 for quite some time now with it's dull action dildo and clitoris stimulator (supposedly feels like a tongue) and with twenty different settings and the added bonus of a heat feature and rechargeability, who wouldn't want it? But at the hefty price of almost $500 I've never been able to buy it.

Not until now.

My panties grow wet just thinking about getting to use it tonight and I can finish that masseuse fantasy.

To make up for dragging her to a sex shop, I treat us to a nice dinner at the upscale place downtown. We start off with warm soft bread that has the perfect crunchy outer shell with a fluffy garlic butter. Next come creamy soups and crisp salads that have just the right ratio of cheese and dressing. She gets a heavenly smelling pasta dish and I go for the seafood platter in a red cream sauce. Both dishes are beautiful and taste even better, the food practically melting in my mouth. We finish off our meal by splitting some kind of fluffy cake with fruity notes to it. It's probably the best meal I have ever had.

Half in a food coma, I bid her farewell for the day.

I lounge on my brand new sofa with a glass of my favorite red and browse for cars as I wait for my new vibrator to charge. I find a bright green SUV that looks promising will no rust spots and low mileage and go to click on it when this soft beeping begins playing in my head. I glance up wondering where it's coming from, but it's probably just a car alarm down the street.

But as more time passes by, the beeping hasn't ceased. If anything, it's increasing in volume and I notice the edges of my vision are going blurry like a camera lens trying to focus. I've barely had enough wine to be that drunk.

My vision continues to blur, the beeping near unbearable now as my body grow heavies.

Then like lifting from the depths of the ocean, I rise and blink away the heaviness. It's 6am on Tuesday morning and my alarm is going off.