Disclaimer: If you've heard of
them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please.
"What the hell was that?" Junior burst out once he'd been released from his clip-on microphone and stormed into the green room, where Alana was also being de-wired.
"I might ask you the same thing!" Alana burst out, her cheeks flushed as she looked at him with a mixture of amazement and horror.
"You just called me out on national television!" Junior argued. Alana threw her hands up in the air and huffed loudly.
"You just accused all women of being subservient and at your disposal whenever the spirit moves you!" Alana cried. "I don't I can't I'm so stunned and disgusted, I'm speechless."
"Well, get unspeechless, sister, because you got some explaining to do." Junior barked, his eyes glowing with anger. "You just told me I was from the Dark Ages! Now you're gonna tell me I'm a backwards hick."
Alana raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Junior growled and threw himself down on the same couch he had commandeered earlier. "Talk. Tell me what the hell you were talkin' about out there. Because I ain't buyin' it."
"First of all, don't ever call me, or any woman, 'sister'. Second of all, I'm guessing any conversation we have right now would go in one ear and out the other. Third, I have a plane to catch so I can't stay and discuss your neuroses." Alana grabbed her shoulder bag and dug around for a moment, pulling out a tasteful business card. "Here's my card. Call me when you're ready to discuss your aggressive attitude towards women."
Junior swiped the card out of her hand. "Aggressive? I'm aggressive towards women now?" He squeaked angrily. "I've never hit a woman in my life."
"And while that makes my heart sing, that doesn't mean you aren't aggressive." Alana said, sweeping on her coat and grabbing her bag again. "My number and my email are on there. Really, call me if you want to work through this."
Junior scoffed but shoved the card into his pocket.
"Mr. Earnhardt, it's been an experience." Alana said, extending her hand. Out of reflex, Junior shook it then quickly dropped her hand as though it were on fire.
"Stop calling me Mr. Earnhardt." Junior muttered. "That was my Daddy. And he taught me about women, so if you accuse me, you accuse him."
"Fine." Alana relented, her tone softening as she watched Junior shove his hands in his pockets with a scowl on his face. "I apologize."
"I ain't aggressive." Junior pouted and Alana sighed slightly.
"Dale." Alana said, making Junior's head snap up to meet her eyes. "In my experience, the most chauvinistic of men are the most insecure. You aren't a misogynist, but you are a chauvinist. My offer is genuine - if you want to discuss this further, contact me. It's been interesting meeting you. Take care."
And then she was gone.
Junior pulled out her card and turned it over and over in his hands, mulling over her words.
And wishing he had a dictionary so he could look up a few of them.
He moved towards the trash can in the corner and dangled the card over it for a long moment. With a heavy sigh, he retracted his hand and shoved the card into his pocket reluctantly.
Maybe he should keep it.
Just in case.