“So what’s new with you? Still sleeping with Tyler the Turkey?” Charlotte asks with a laugh.

I made the mistake of telling Charlotte a little secret about something Tyler does whenever I’m giving him a blow job. Tyler is a talker in bed, and when I’m going down on him, it’s even worse. He likes to coordinate said talking with whatever holiday is closest. The blow job in question was right before Thanksgiving. Tyler really got into the spirit of things, gobbling like a turkey while I had his dick in my mouth and yelling out “Yeah, baby! Suck on those giblets.”

Do you see now why I kicked him out of my bed the other night? How can I possibly continue to sleep with someone who refers to his balls as turkey organs?

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again? And no, I’m not sleeping with him anymore. I gave him the boot and told him to never come back,” I tell her, pouring myself another cup of coffee.

“Didn’t you tell him you would never sleep with him again after he told you to lick his little pumpkins on Halloween?” Charlotte laughs.

“Fuck off,” I mutter. “Change of subject. How’s married life?”

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Shut up. We’re not married.”

“You’re living in sin and finish each other’s sentences – close enough. It’s cute and disgusting all at the same time. He’s probably going to propose on Christmas.”

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “Oh, my God. Do you think he will? No, there’s no way! It’s too soon! We’ve only been living together for a few months. Holy shit, what if he does? What should I wear?”

It’s my turn to roll my eyes. She’s so giddy and in love that it makes me want to punch her in the throat. I’m happy for her and Gavin, I really am. They have been friends since birth due to the fact that our parents are best friends and we all grew up together. A few months ago, they each decided it was time to admit their true feelings about one another. They both went about it the wrong way, making a list of ways to prove their love to each other instead of just coming right out and saying it. Charlotte’s g*y best friend pretended to be her boyfriend and Gavin pretended he was dating some bat shit crazy ex-girlfriend of his who wound up beating the shit out of a dude in the bar one night and calling him a Vaginaman. It was a hot mess, but it all ended well. They’ve been shacking up for the last few months and they work at Seduction and Snacks together. It’s so perfect I want to gouge my eyes with a fork.

I’m woman enough to admit that I’m a little bit jealous. My only prospect for love is a man who lights his farts on fire and has a membership to a  p**n -of-the-month club. I really need to get back into the dating world and forget about Tyler once and for all.

“I’ll take you shopping for the perfect proposal outfit, and I’ll even buy it for you if you help me find a man,” I tell her.

Even though Charlotte and I fight a lot, we still have one thing in common – our love of shopping. Her eyes light up at the idea of going to the mall and she holds out her hand.

I grab onto it and we shake, making a deal.

“Done. I have the perfect guy in mind for you. Don’t make any plans for tomorrow night. Do you have something slutty to wear?”

She looks me up and down, focusing on the tight, low-cut shirt I’m wearing that barely contains my boobs and the short, pleated skirt that stops right below my ass that I paired with black, knee-high stiletto boots.

“Never mind. I see you’ve already been shopping at Sluts R Us.”

She leaves me no choice but to wrap my arm around her neck and put her in a choke hold.

“Goddammit, cut it out, ass**le!” she yells at me as I bend over, taking her down with me.

She begins smacking my legs and I start pulling her hair, both of us screaming and cursing.

“STOP BEING SUCH A BITCH! I CAN’T BELIVE YOU-hey, is this the new Mossimo Pointe Stripe jacket?” I ask, pausing to pull the tag out of the neck of Charlotte’s coat.

“Yes! I got it on sale at Target. Isn’t it cute?” she asks, her head still down by my waist as I read the tag.

“You should have paired it with some skinny Seven jeans and those black Steve Madden pumps you wore to the DMV in August,” I tell her, finally releasing my stranglehold so she can stand.

She smoothes down her hair that was mussed during our tussle and stares at me like I’m crazy. “How is it that you can precisely recall what I wore three months ago but you can’t remember how to use the photocopier at work?”

I shrug, turning away from her to grab my keys off of the counter. “It’s not that I’m incapable of remembering how that machine works, I just choose NOT to remember. It’s boring.”

“What was I wearing when we went to the Pink concert?” she asks.

“September 23rd? You had on a black Max and Mia drawstring waist dress with nude, Valentino couture bow platform pumps,” I reply as I head out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

“October 15th?” she asks, following me outside towards my car.

“J Brand skinny stretch jeans, black Stuart Weitzman knee boots and a fitted, emerald green Donna Karan ¾ length t-shirt,” I rattle off easily as I unlock my doors.

Charlotte stands next to the passenger side door, staring over the top of the car at me in awe. “Jesus Christ, you’re like the Rain Man of fashion. Why the hell are you working at Seduction and Snacks? You should be taking over Nordstrom’s.”