Turds in the Punch Bowl (A Story of No Ordinary Friendship) by Jen Ashton Page A

something suspicious. His hands were under the counter and his shoulder was gyrating. It was peculiar and I was curious. So I stood up and walked over.
    Joe and Jane were seated at the end of the bar near the back of the restaurant. Jane had her head down on the bar and never saw me coming. Joe’s eyes grew wide as I approached and he kept nodding his head at me to scram. I took the hint and sauntered on by, but not before I caught a glimpse of him finger-banging Jane under the bar. Part of me wanted to cheer him on like rooting for my favorite team. “Let’s go Tiger, let’s go!” or “He will, he will, rock you!” while clapping and stomping on my way past them. But like the wonderfully considerate best friend I am, I refrained. Instead, I pretended to trip over his bar stool.
    “Ooops!” I gasped. “Don’t worry, I didn’t see anything.” Then I hurried off to the ladies room.
    Jane never saw me coming because she was. She jolted up quicker than lightening, pulled Joe’s hand from her crotch and zipped up her leather pants. When she lifted her head, her face was beet red. I would’ve guessed from embarrassment, but I think she was just flushed from her orgasm because she seemed pretty comfortable on the car ride back to our place after she clocked out mere moments later.
    “This is so cool!” she squealed from the back seat. “I’ve always wanted to hang out with you guys. You two always seem like so much fun!”
    She had clearly been drinking. There was no we in this party. We weren’t bringing her home, Joe was. I just happened to be driving.
    “This is so exciting!” she exclaimed, still a little too enthusiastic for my taste. “Oh my God, I didn’t know you guys lived so close,” she continued as we pulled into the neighborhood. “We could’ve been hanging out this whole time!”
    “I know,” I responded, “like totally!” Joe kicked me for mocking her. “What?” I whispered, nudging him back. We engaged in a brief stare down. I was almost proud of him, but still a little disgusted by what I saw at the bar. “I hope you washed your hands, young man.”
    Joe chuckled and slid his fingers in his mouth to make me puke. I shouldn’t have said anything.
    “Seriously,” she interrupted, “I could just walk over after my shifts, or we could all drink at my bar and walk home without driving.”
    She was getting on my nerves already. What happened to my favorite waitress?
    “Last time I drank and drove,” she kept on, “I got pulled over and the cop was such a jerk to me. I was just driving home from work. It wasn’t like I was going out to party or anything.”
    “Wow,” was all that escaped my lips as I looked at Joe and gave him the good old you picked a winner look.
    “I had to take a breathalyzer and say my ABC’s. It was so stupid. Then he made me walk a straight line. When I fell, he tried to help me up and I punched him. I got arrested for DUI and assaulting an officer. Jail sucks.”
    I thought she was joking, but she just kept on blabbing. While I tuned her out and pulled into the driveway, I recalled a couple weeks when we didn’t see Jane at Sierra Gold. We had asked about her a few times, but all anyone would say was that she was on sick leave. I even remember asking her when she returned if she was okay. That explained the look she gave me. No one is okay after spending two weeks in jail.
    She was quick to hop out of the car once I put it in park. I took my time pulling the keys from the ignition and grabbed Joe’s elbow.
    “She’s a criminal, Joe. Keep an eye on your valuables.” I glanced down at his nipples and reminded him about the last time he let someone he didn’t know near his diamonds.
    I let them walk in ahead of me so that I could keep my own eye on her. She never admitted to being a kleptomaniac, but a criminal is a criminal as far as I was concerned. They didn’t linger long downstairs. I made sure my purse was hidden, smiled and bid them adieu. I