Chapter 1

Monday April 18

A weird thing happened to me at work today, so I guess that means it’s time to start another journal before I stumble onto some secret congressional wife-swapping scandal, or whatever it is this time around. My life is like that.

Work, right now, is waiting tables at a bar/grill where we waitresses wear ridiculously short skirts, ridiculously revealing tops, push-up bras, and knee socks. This was supposed to be my fourth semester of college, but my parents are spiteful hypocrites so college is on hold until I can earn enough money for a car, apartment, tuition, and a little buffer. I had hoped to get a programming job, but those are hard to get with no work history, and the only sample code I have would get me thrown in a federal prison. So the plan for now is waiting tables while I build up my credentials on an open source software project.

I guess the story starts last Friday: After grabbing a bite to eat, Kiki, Monica, Brian and I bought some beer and hung out at Monica’s place. Monica was showing Kiki and me some belly dancing moves and one thing led to another. Pretty soon Kiki and Brian were pawing at each other and asking to be dropped off at Kiki’s place, alone. I was the designated driver, so I drove my horny coworkers for forty minutes in Monica’s car, pretending I didn’t notice the slurping sounds from the back seat.

I was sitting in the car checking my email after dropping them off when Kiki reappeared and knocked on my window. “Lexi, I’m so sorry!” She told me. “We have to go back! I left my keys at Monica’s!”

I didn’t want to spend another hour and a half driving, and Brian was looking at me desperately with a boner distorting the shape of his pants. “Let me see what I can do,” I told them, and walked to the door fishing my lock picks out of my purse.

The door knob opened in thirty seconds; the deadbolt took forty-five. Kiki was ecstatic, and Brian was ... I don’t know the word for it: the way guys get when they think they’re about to lose their chance to get laid, but then it’s back on. Anyway, they scampered into the apartment, and I made a quip about naming the baby after me if she gets knocked up tonight.

So that leads us to today. Kiki told me that she had described my lock picking stunt to one of her customers, and now he wanted to meet me. Socializing with the customers is a big part of our job, so that was no big deal. I mean, the food is pretty good, but the price obviously includes a premium for talking to pretty girls.

The guy’s name was Oliver. He was middle aged, kind of stocky, with black hair and gray temples, and a kind face. He wanted to know how I had learned to pick locks, so I told him the version of the story that didn’t involve burglary, blackmail, and sex tapes. He was a pleasure to talk to, so throughout the rest of my shift we talked whenever I had the time and he drew out some of my other stories of amateur espionage.

When he finally settled up - leaving a generous tip for Kiki - Oliver surprised me with a change in topic.

“Have you ever tried dying your hair red?” He asked.

“Mmm, not really,” I answered. “I’ve got nothing against bottle-redheads, but on me I think it would look like I was trying too hard.”

“I bet you’d look great,” he stated. I shrugged and smiled, and wondered if I had read him wrong and he was about to ask me out of something.

“I’ll tell you what, let me give you some encouragement,” he said. “If you’ve got red hair when I come back on Thursday, I’ll give you forty dollars.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, trying to seem pleasant and mask the suspicion I was feeling.

Tuesday April 19

Today was my day off. Tuesdays are the only days I can count on spending time with my roommate Juliet. She has been letting me sleep on her couch rent free for a couple of months, so I figured I’d show my appreciate today by making up some lasagna from scratch. That meant a bus trip to the grocery store - a pain - but Juliet is worth it.

After that I put in some time writing code for “IP-Morlock”, an open source network tools project. I’ve learned so much from working with the pros on this project. School teaches you a lot, but there’s nothing like writing real code that the whole world can look at to make you a better programmer.

I told Juliet about Oliver’s weird hair dye proposition over dinner.

“You know you have to do it, right?” Juliet said excitedly. “Don’t you want to know what his game is?” Juliet is about to graduate with a journalism degree, so she’s professionally skeptical.

“I suppose,” I said, secretly glad that she supported the idea.

“Great!” Juliet replied. “Now let’s talk about those glasses. You know you’d be five to seven times hotter without them, right?”

“You think bloodshot eyes and a puffy face would turn guys on?” I ask her. “Because that’s what happened both times I tried contacts when I was fourteen.”

“Fine, be that way,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I guess the world needs a few geek bombshells.” It’s actually kind of too bad. I sometimes wish I could wear colored contacts. Brown eyes are just so boring.

Wednesday April 20

I dyed my hair today: a medium auburn, so it’s not a whole lot different from my normal brown. I like it.

I was already asleep on the couch when Juliet came home late tonight. She was drunk and so nowhere near as quiet as she thought she was as she lead a guy through the livingroom and into her bedroom. I tried to go right back to sleep, but between the giggles, moans, foreign vulgarities, and sounds I couldn’t identify, I just couldn’t. What the hell was she doing to that poor boy?

A few months ago, I had helped Juliet wire her apartment with hidden cameras. I tried to resist, but since there was no way to ignore their noises, my growing curiosity and arousal lead me to brake down and open a live feed from her bedroom.

Juliet and her lover were naked, scissoring on the bed: their heads were at different ends and their legs were interlocked, allowing their groins to mash together. Juliet was doing all of the work: ripples seemed to move through her body until they reached her hips, smashing her pussy on his dick like ocean waves. All the while, her breasts were standing out proudly from her chest, with nipples that looked like they could cut glass.