Lil and Cammie: Phone Convo

[x-diamondlil.livejournal.com]

Lil calls Cammie to try and convince the green-haired girl to join in the fun that is Nate's Birthday Party.


Damn buttons. Why did they have to make them so small? Someone should invent a phone that you could dial with one hand while keeping a hold of your drink with another. After two miss-dials, Lil finally put her glass aside and managed to plunk out the number she wanted. At least, she hoped she had.

Cammie had gotten back from work and was actually curled up with another one of those damn Hitchhiker books. The TV was blaring the Dog the Bounty hunter show and she almost didn’t hear her phone ring. She fished it out of the pocket on the side of her bag and flipped it open after checking the caller ID.

“Cammie’s house of whores, we pick ‘em you stick ‘em.”

"Oh fuck. Sorry." Lil quickly hung up her phone. She frowned and finished the rest of her triple shot that was floating at the bottom of her highball glass before trying once again to contact her absent friend.

Cammie started laughing and answered the phone again, “You know that WAS me you just called, right?”

"Huh? Of course, I know it's you. I'm talking to you," Lil said, rolling her eyes. "Where are you? You should be here. I'm making shots for the Birthday Boy and I'm running outta the ones with X-rated names."

“Kidnapped by aliens from the horrible planet Zork,” Cammie said, settling into her chair and tossing the book aside, “Start naming the drinks after Bond girls. Or girls from the Austin Powers movies. Allota Vagina should work out nicely,” Cammie said.

On the other end up the line, the blonde wrinkled her nose. "Aliens? What the fuck are you talking about, Cams? If aliens got you, I wouldn't be able to reach you 'cause you'd be too far. And I dunwanna name the drinks; they already have names. I just am running outta them. Already made the usual bad ones: Slippery Nipples and Blow Jobs but I wanna do more fun ones."

“They have a signal booster and if you don’t want to believe that, I’m in my room,” she said, “I don’t know the name of drinks. I can come up with names if you want to stick me on speaker, but I’m not coming down there.”

Lil blew a raspberry into the phone. "You should come. He's your boss; you should be here. Come hang out! All the kids are gone and people've starting hitting the karaoke and it's fucking hysterical!"

“Sounds fun, but still not my kind of thing. I don’t do large groups of people that don’t have a mosh pit in them,” Cammie said simply. “Get me video of the karaoke and we can use it as blackmail.”

"Caaaaaammie," she wined, stomping her foot as she rummaged through the booze selection. Baileys and butterscotch schnapps she'd already done. "Come on. Stop being a buzzkill. Oh fuck, jackpot! Crown. Next up, Finger Me Good. You need to come to the party and watch me get your boss shitfaced!"

“Lil, I really don’t like large groups of people in a place where I can’t hit them,” Cammie said in that slow talk you had to use with drunk people. The last time she had been around a large group of people that wasn’t a metal concert had been when everyone had suddenly turned on her. You could count on people trying to kill you at a good metal or punk show so that didn’t bother her. But her arm, her track record and her past experience made large get-togethers one of Her Things.

"Fine. Be a jackass and sit in the mansion watching tv and playing with you little paper balls. We're having fun here and if you dunwanna play with us, you don't gotta come and have fun. But you can't mope and be stupid about it tomorrow 'cause you didn't come when I told you to." She mixed the drinks while holding her phone between her ear and shoulder, enough for three shots. If she couldn't get Jean-Paul to drink the third, well, it wouldn't go to waste.

Cammie sighed, “I won’t mope and be dumb about it tomorrow. I made my choice as soon as I knew there’d be a ton of people there. It’s one of my things, Lil. I wouldn’t send you to a room full of robots, don’t ask me to shove myself around a bunch of people. I’m glad you’re so drunk that you didn’t know the first time you called here that it was me, though. I’ll carry that memory with me forever,” she promised in a fake-happy kind of voice.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop bugging you. Fuck. Still a good time you're missing. Should be here but I'm not gonna ask you again," the blonde promised. She collected the shots in her hands then frowned as she tried to reach for the phone. "Ugh. I'm done making these things and I gotta find Nate now so I gotta hang up. You get bored, come over later when half the group's passed out or in bed, 'kay? Less people, more drinks."

“I’ll think ‘bout it, ‘kay?” she said to her friend, “Can’t promise anything though. Don’t get Nate too drunk. Some of us have to put up with him at work tomorrow,” she said brightly.

Lil's laugh was bright and bubbly. "Sweetie, I do my job right and he ain't making it to work tomorrow. I'll talk to you later," she promised. Putting one of the shots down, the blonde hung up then pondered her problem. Phone. Three shots. Two hands. No pockets. "What the hell." Nestling one of tiny glasses in her cleavage, she grabbed the other two along with her phone and started off to find Nate. "Birthday Boy! I gotta 'nother one for you to try!"