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    DATING MY VIBRATOR (and other true fiction)
    DATING MY VIBRATOR (and other true fiction)
    DATING MY VIBRATOR (and other true fiction)
    Ebook70 pages1 hour

    DATING MY VIBRATOR (and other true fiction)

    By Suzanne Tyrpak

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    About this ebook

    This is a collection of nine short stories, all based (unfortunately) on my own experience. Dating, divorce, desperation--all that good stuff! After nineteen years of marriage, I was suddenly thrust into a brave new world of dating--online, offline, standing in line, listening to lines--and I've survived to tell these tales.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuzanne Tyrpak
    Release dateNov 21, 2010
    ISBN9781452344478
    DATING MY VIBRATOR (and other true fiction)
    Author

    Suzanne Tyrpak

    Adytum publishes:Suzanne Tyrpak, award winner writer of historical and contemporary fiction. Works include: Vestal Virgin (suspense in ancient Rome), Hetaera (suspense in ancient Athens), and Rosy: a Novel. Short story collections include Ghost Plane and Other Disturbing Tales, and Dating My Vibrator (and other true fiction).Zané Sachs has worked for several large corporations (including a supermarket), and those situations have, in part, inspired Sadie the Sadist. Sadly, she has found, that the current work environment in the U.S. often treats workers as expendable units, comparable to robots. Every day automated systems and machines are replacing human workers. Zané expects to be replaced by a robot any minute. She is currently working on a prequel to Sadie the Sadist, titled Sadie's Guide to Catching Killers, and a psychological suspense novel, Jayne Just Watches.

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    • 3/5


      A couple stories didn't have anything to do with dating. I wish she had more stories in this book.

    Book preview

    DATING MY VIBRATOR (and other true fiction) - Suzanne Tyrpak

    DATING MY VIBRATOR

    AND OTHER TRUE FICTION

    by Suzanne Tyrpak

    Published by Suzanne Tyrpak at Smashwords

    Copyright © 2010 by Suzanne Tyrpak

    Cover art copyright © 2010 by Jeroen ten Berge

    All rights reserved.

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    DATING MY VIBRATOR is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    For more information about the author, please visit www.ghostplanestory.blogspot.com.

    For more information about the artist, please visit www.jeroentenberge.com.

    Table of Contents

    Introduction

    Downhill

    Rock Bottom

    Not Nirvana

    Dharma Dan

    Dust of Souls

    A Tiny Romance

    Double Date

    Phantom Love

    Dating My Vibrator

    Introduction

    This is a collection of nine stories, all based (unfortunately) on my own experience. After nineteen years of marriage, I was thrust into a brave new world of dating—online, offline, standing in line, listening to lines—and I've survived to tell these tales. Caution: if you're contemplating divorce, these stories may convince you to consider marriage counseling. If you're out there dating, chances are you will relate. OMG! Here's a scary thought: maybe you've met some of these guys! Names have been changed to protect the guilty.

    - Suzanne

    Downhill

    You're gonna freeze your hooters off.

    Don't worry about my hooters.

    I zip my jacket to my chin, plant my poles and scoot along the trail.

    THIS IS NOT A DATE.

    I'm here to ski, and nothing else.

    I weave through towering spruce and fir. Rabbit tracks disappear into the snow. The schuss of skis tells me Barry's closing in. He's wheezing, like a guy who spends too much time at a computer, too much time in front of the TV, too much time behind the wheel of his fully loaded SUV.

    I push harder, wind whipping my hair, chilling my face—numbing like a blast of Novocain.

    Numb feels good.

    Better than feeling mangled, like I have since the divorce. Like I got sucked up by a snow-blower and spit out on the discard pile.

    Where's my ex right now?

    Probably with her, sitting in our hot tub at our house.

    And here I am in Purgatory. Guess I took a wrong turn and landed in the underworld.

    I dig in my edges.

    Wait up, Barry yells.

    I slow down. After all, he did give me the pass.

    I pause at the headwall. The trail opens to a run called Paradise.

    Pair a dice.

    It's all a crap shoot in this world.

    Jagged mountains bite into a sky, so blue that it bites back. I scan the slope, a snowy sheet unfurling on a bed of rock. One wrong move and you could die.

    Barry whooshes to a stop, his skis spitting chunks of snow, his cell phone performing Beethoven's Fifth. Crap. It's work. He turns it off. I don't give a rat's ass if the whole system goes down. I'm not going in.

    He grins at me. I force a smile.

    The hooter remark pokes me like a broken underwire.

    Need a break? Barry asks, breathless like we've done something.

    We just got here.

    How about a cocktail.

    At 10am? I ask. But, right now, I could use a drink.

    Steam curls from my coffee and brandy warms my toes. Maybe I've been too hard on Barry. Maybe I if I get to know him I'll get past the hooter thing. I take another slug.

    So, I say, what else do you do for fun?

    I'm learning the guitar.

    Really? My ears perk at this hint of creativity.

    He says, Got a book that teaches you the chords by color. I could be good, but I don't like to practice.

    I write.

    I watch his face for a modicum of interest.

    His eyes shift to

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