Meeting Zemm the Mattress (My Ode to Hitchhikers)

If I had a Altairan dollar for every loser I found on, I would be prematurely melting at the SuperNova countdown that new years. But mathematics never worked in such favorable ways, and this is how I found myself instead at another of Mother’s meteor shower, with all her barmy friends who had turned up for the event. The room was alight with bling. Mother’s parties were legendary, and once she’d even got a friend to do a private supernova for her guests entertainment.

So it wasn’t surprising that the party was a quite the cosmic blast. Quite a few stars had turned up, all looking appropriately bored, though not entirely bummed out by the planets that clamored around them for attention. Groupies, I thought looking back at the Haggunenon sitting across me, feeling up my right thigh. I sighed and swallowed his beer as well and got up.The asshole’s right hand had evolved a bit too much in the span of twenty minutes.  Obviously, it was not just his chromosomes that were restless.

“Darling, have you met Zemm” I cringed. I knew this was coming. I often wondered if Maa threw these parties just for the pleasure of setting me up. The last time, it was a rich cousin, a few times removed, into constructions, planets stars and the like, who spent the entire conversation discussing how he could remodel me. A few extra mountains here. A bigger sea. Heck, I knew I wasn’t perfect. But I didn’t want to spend my first date discussing my bust size.

“Oh, hello. And what do you do?”

“He’s a mattress, can you believe it”, said mother “And a rich one at that!” She was breathless by her discovery. A mattress. This was interesting.

“I see”, I said, “And where…?

“From The swamps!”, replied mother again, “All the way from Sqornshellous Zeta. A true swamps to riches kind of a tale”. I could see why Zemm had his charm. Mother could never resist a good story.

“Nice to meet you….” I said looking about him for something to shake. Zemm stood there tongue-tied and self conscious. “Would you like a drink?” I offered, more to fill the silence than out of interest. He shook in the affirmative.   He was quiet, this one. But then, it was hard to find a man that could agree with you.

Mother stood there, as if she’d had more to say. I hoped she wasn’t planning on chaperoning him all the way to bed. If it came to that, I corrected myself. I sneaked a glance at him, standing there, lost and bashful, with no clue what to say. I suddenly pictured myself over him, his luxurious firm body, as I squirmed over him, trying to get a good position, Zemm flopping and groaning below me. The quieter ones were always the loudest.

I shot a flurry of glances in my mother’s direction.

“Well, I will leave you too to it” she said finally. As she left, she bent close to my ears, pinching me, her eyes glittering in mischief.

“By the way, just so you know” she whispered, “I hear he’s king sized!”

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