Fully Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil

Exhaustion had set in. I reached for my sugar-filled Pepsi and took a swig. It was a long, wonderful, bubbly swig. I could nearly feel the caffeine coursing through my body. I knew it was bad for me. I had seen The Biggest Loser.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore my tired body. I ran a hand through my short-cropped, black hair and picked up the binoculars. I popped a hand-full of roasted peanuts into my mouth and watched for the sleeze-bag to emerge from the hotel room.

I had been on this stake-out for two days and I was about to nail this guy. I only needed a couple more photos to bring back to his wife and then I could call it good. I had some pretty damning evidence already, but I needed the money shot. The one that would have this guys stuck like I had poured molasses on his head.

The door to the hotel room opened. I whipped out my camera, tightened the shot and waited for the right moment. In the darkness of night, I hadn’t been able to get a good shot of the woman’s face. I knew his wife would want to know who the other woman was. They always wanted to know. I didn’t understand that. I thought it was enough to know they were cheating. Anything more was like pouring salt in their wounds.

But I was just the hired hand. I kept my opinions to myself.

Mr. Sleez-O walked out of the room onto the balcony. I began to fear I would be here for several more hours waiting for the mistress to exit. It would be so much better if I could get them together. He left his hand on the doorknob and turned to blow a kiss. I sat up a little straighter and held out for the money shot. The door opened a little wider. I held my breathe. And there she was. I zoomed in as a ruffle-haired blonde woman wrapped her arms around my current victim.

I pulled back in shock. He was kissing none other than his wife. I felt as though I was slipping down a slope of fully hydrogenated vegetable oil. My gig was up. They must have made up, which meant my job was done. For now. I packed up my camera and my binoculars. She’d call again in a few months. I was sure of that. But I had wasted two days and now I headed home for some much needed sleep. The Missus and I were going to have a long conversation later, you could bet on that.

This piece of fiction was written for a new blog I have come to love, The Red Dress Club. The writing prompt was to choose an item from the pantry and write a piece using everything in the ingredient list. I like me a good challenge!