Luck Be a Lady Tonight

''They call you lady luck, but there is room for doubt. ''

I always hum that song in my head when I’m looking to get lucky. It’s an excellent way to gain some confidence in this harsh world of good-looking guys. You know what I mean. I mean Mr. GQ model who spends his free time volunteering for the fire department. Yeah, that guy – the guy who’s apparently allergic to shirts but doesn’t seem to mind much.

At times you have a very un-lady-like way of running out .

Then I saw her. She was perfect: great legs, red lips, long swinging hair. I bet she even had green eyes. Just perfect. And she was walking right into my bar. I steadied myself on my stool, watching her discreetly as she neared the back of the tiny pub. She walked as if she had a purpose; kinda like a runway model. Tossing her hair back over one bare shoulder, she asked the bartender for a rum and coke.

You’re on a date with me; the pickin’s have been lush .

Well… not really, Frankie. But tonight was different. Tonight, this blonde, green-eyed girl actually smiled at me. It didn’t take much to strike up a conversation, either. All I had to ask was if she was from around here. After the look she gave me, I knew she was just putty in my hand. She must have been on the rebound or something.

''And yet before the evening is over, you might give me the brush. ''

It’s happened to me before. I’ve been so close to taking a girl home, but then she just got nervous and said no. Sandra – as was this one’s name – talked me up and down. I guess tall and lanky was her kind of guy. I sat there nice-like and sipped my beer, listening to her boring story about the stupid son of a bitch who just broke up with her. What an idiot. Didn’t he see she was gorgeous?

''Luck be a lady tonight! Luck be a lady tonight! ''

And that she was, Old Blue Eyes. After just one hour, Sandra stood up and walked out the door on my arm. She was soft, curvy, smelled like lilacs, and stupidly drunk. Nearly tripped three times on the way out, you know? It took a little longer than normal to get her into my car, but I knew I was getting lucky tonight. Just when we were about to take off, she did that thing all girls do when they’re about to go home with a guy. She asked me if she was pretty enough to have a boyfriend.

''Luck if you’ve ever been a lady to begin with. Luck be a lady tonight! ''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">

<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"">For Christ Sake! Why can’t women think like men? So, I did the only thing I knew how – I gushed uncontrollably. I told her she was out of her mind. I said she was gorgeous beyond belief and any guy that dumped her was a moron.

''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Luck let a gentleman see just how nice a dame you can be. ''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">

<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"">I let a stupid chuckle escape me at that last one; mainly because Sandra was trying to stick her hand down my pants on the drive home.

<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"">“Not yet, honey,” I cooed, wrapping my fingers around her wrist and pushing her arm away. “You’ll get everything you deserve in a few minutes.”

<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"">My apartment was across town, but it only took a few minutes to get there since it was nearly one in the morning. Sandra couldn’t keep her hands off me. I had to snap at her once! Of course, I felt instantly guilty and made sure that I told her pouting face that she was still gorgeous.

<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"">When we got to my place, I pulled her out of my car and slammed the door, smiling like a madman all the way up the front steps. Of course, she had no idea what was in store for her on the other side of my big mahogany door.

''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">I know the way you’ve treated other guys you’ve been with. ''

<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"">Which is why I think I cut off her tits first. Yeah, she was a dirty whore like all other women. The face usually went first, but Sandra had one of those innocent faces. Her tits were the great attractor. I’m sure men looked at them like they were an oasis and they’d been crawling in the desert for a hundred years. Yep, they had to go first. They’d make a nice addition to my collection.

''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Luck be a lady with me! ''

<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"">In the end, Sandra didn’t scream much. She begged for some guy named Collin toward the end, but after I cut her throat, she stopped all that nonsense. I made quick work of her fingers and toes, sealing them in jars and setting them next to mother’s on the shelf. Then, I stood back to admire my work. Yes… tonight luck was on my side.

''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">Luck be a lady tonight! ''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"">