And Some Prefer It Cold… – Homeless

        The first time Ruth got fingered, she was watching The Criterion Collection edition of Some Like It Hot in Sam’s basement.
        Three of Sam’s fingers filled her, an amount that seemed silly, superfluous even, although Ruth didn’t say so. The fingering didn’t feel bad, but it didn’t feel good either as Sam’s fingers sporadically moved around inside her like the mildly gesticulating signs of a third base coach.
        Steal home…
        That’s what Sam’s three fingers were ordering Ruth’s impending orgasm to do.
        To steal home.
        As Ruth kept her eyes on Marilyn Monroe who was singing about being through with love, Sam began kissing her neck, an act of slightly-veiled panicked desperation, Ruth felt, like Sam was purposefully fogging her clavicle with his hot whiskey breath in order to arouse her so she would come faster (or at all), something that only backfired and produced the adverse reaction in Ruth, turning her off and mentally pushing her even further away rather than drawing her in closer.
        On screen, Marilyn Monroe was wearing a sparkly dress and her large, protruding breasts looked like chubby-cheeked, fat children ripping themselves out of layers and layers of wet snow clothes. Marilyn, quite literally, radiated. She glowed out of the TV, and Ruth couldn’t help but wish she felt the way Marilyn looked. She couldn’t help but wish her fingered vagina felt the way Marilyn looked. A sentimental yet touching string-section cried behind Marilyn’s fuzzy singing voice, but Ruth still felt nothing all over, and as pipes that lined the ceiling of Sam’s half-finished basement began rattling and clanking above them, Ruth imagined that the sounds they made were that of her heart trying to turn itself on.
        This was supposed to be a big moment in her life, or at least a moment, but it felt like neither. Ruth wondered what was wrong with herself. Sam was trying his best. He was nice and cute and she liked him, as much as she could like anyone, she guessed, but nothing seemed to be working. Ruth didn’t want his fingers in her anymore. Ruth wanted Panera Bread—a turkey chili bread bowl along with the peaceful and warm ambiance that all Panera dining rooms had to offer—but it was past midnight. Panera was closed and, instead, she had whiskey sloshing around her belly and Sam’s three fingers shoved in her vagina, muddling up the signs to tell her orgasm to steal home.
        Rather than tell Sam to stop, and possibly risk hurting his feelings, Ruth faked an orgasm. She made sounds like the fake-breasted Latina porn star had made that one time when Ruth watched porn at Miranda Hiddleston’s house, and then made her body shake like she’d just electrocuted herself.
        It must’ve worked, because after Ruth was done gyrating Sam finally pulled his wet fingers out of her and leaned back into the couch in a manner that Ruth perceived as “relieved.” Just as Marilyn finished singing about being through with love, Ruth was through with what was left of her hymen, and she told Sam it was late and that she had to get going.
        Slightly holding up his three wet fingers like he didn’t know what to do with them, like Ruth’s vaginal juices were acid that had burned and deformed them, Sam nodded in agreement even though the movie was almost over. Without saying goodbye, Ruth grabbed her purse and showed herself out, doing so in a casual manner, as if all she and Sam had done that night was play a board game.
        A “gentler board” game.
        One with no dice.
        Ruth left Sam’s basement like they’d just finished playing Balderdash.
        Ruth got into her car and drove to a small shopping complex instead of going home. She went into the 24-hour convenience store and grabbed a Lo-Carb Monster energy drink and a Canada Dry ginger ale. Then she brought both to the counter and tried paying with her debit card. The total came to $4 but the card minimum was $5, so Ruth grabbed two packs on M&M’s, one Peanut, the other Peanut Butter, and bought those as well.
        Back in her car, Ruth opened the Lo Carb Monster energy drink. Then she opened both bags of M&M’s. Ruth allowed herself to follow a childish impulse & dropped one M&M from each bag into the energy drink, although she had to nibble the Peanut M&M in half to get it in the can. Even though she couldn’t taste any difference with the M&Ms added, Ruth was glad she tried it anyway, and she sat back in the driver’s seat of her car and ate M&M’s one by one while occasionally taking sips of her Lo Carb Monster.
        Outside her car it was cold, but Ruth didn’t bother turning on the heat. She felt like she didn’t need to. The lights in the parking lot felt like secret handshakes, and the quiet aloneness was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. Ruth thought about getting fingered. Then her thoughts quickly transformed into warm thoughts about Panera Bread. She put her mouth up to the opened tab in her Lo Carb Monster energy drink and whispered, “Nothing makes sense…” inside of it, as if this were some great secret.
        And Ruth was right, she knew. Nothing did make sense.
        But unlike the rest of the world, she, at only the tender age of 15, was beginning to prefer things that way.
        Senseless. Completely and utterly senseless.
        Ruth smiled.
        “I feel the way Marilyn looks,” she said to herself out loud, and added another Peanut Butter M&M into her Lo Carb Monster energy drink as it began snowing outside.