[center][img]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Doris%20%22DJ%20BoomKitty%22%20Goldhirsch&name=Dustismo_Roman.ttf&size=35&style_color=8882be[/img] [img]http://25.media.tumblr.com/85183389c5f7631aa7b49c39742b7d10/tumblr_mmal49Ou7r1s85m9lo2_r1_500.gif[/img][/center] [hr] Doris ended her shift early last night. After the usual on air shenanigans that she regularly deals with, naive kids asking for relationship advice, conjuring up sarcastic comebacks on troll callers and die hard political enthusiasts plus a nightly encounter with death threats. Always the death threats. She had talked to her boss about this, and of course to comply his employee's safety concerns, he gave her a coupon for a three week self defense class taped on a box of a brand new rechargeable stun gun as if to make sure if the self defense classes wasnt enough. Nonetheless she rarely worries on such things, aside from some pissed off republicans she's confident that most of her on air horswhipping is unlikely to make anyone be capable of murder. At least, none so far. At 11 : 30 that night she left the air with her traditional "This is DJ Boomkitty, signing off." tagline and a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dx1XtKbEtfE]Roberta Flack classic[/url] to groovy up the airwaves. The night was in it's usual gloomy charm, as she walked out of the lonely alleyway to her car parked a good fifteen mins away from her office. They reaally need to fix the parking in this area. The night poured a gentle drizzle on her skin, and [i]this time[/i] around she had brought an umbrella with her. As much as naked driving was a refreshing experience, getting DUIed by a greasy cop while on her birthday suit isnt exactly listed on her bucket list of sexual fantasies. Dropping by at the Vibe for a quick drink or two like she regularly does, seeing the same people like the other night she was there. Except that one hottie skulking by the bar. Nice hair, scruffy looking, slacks n' suspenders goodness. She remembered chatting him up, got a little comfortable in between bourbon shots and next thing they're going at it in the lavatory. And like a customary routine with all the men in her romantic life, quoting that one Enrique Iglesias song, they all just "Come and Go.". It happens so frequent to the point it doesnt upset her anymore. Yet Doris fears of this feeling, the incapability of being loved by anyone. A statement that would sometimes go on and on in her head whenever she gets a little too much to drink ,specially during the monthly "crimson wave". [hr] Despite deep in hang over hell this morning, Doris woke up at 6 and went on with her reading. Prelims was right around the corner and she isnt planning on wasting away a semester by failing a major. A good tomato juice usually stops the torturing throbbing in her brain, which it did. That's when she only noticed she's almost out of milk, but was too [s]lazy[/s] occupied to get out and get some herself. Then she remembered, she have a Lewis. Grabbing her phone, she sent a quick text. [center] [b]To; Lewis Hey, was wondering if you could pick up a few stuff for me at LoVee? I'm sorta in the middle of something. Cant go out. And yes, I'll pay you back. Kiss kiss. [/b][/center] When her brain started numbing skimming through a wall of text on civil law and legal references, she paused, folded her glasses and gave a good stretch. "Get a full load of subjects in a three month term. What a good idea!" she muttered irritatingly, while massaging her temples to relieve the escalating throbbing. She took a quick break and gazed out the window, a mug of tea in her hands, she caught a sight of Alex looking all adorable and charming, unknowingly making her smile as she took little sips of her tea, just watching the scenery to relax her tensing braincells. A good couple of minutes later she went back to her desk, flipping through the pages of her 3 inch of civil law only to ruin her pace and overwhelming Alex's guitar tunes by a wailing banshee. Or was it just someone singing. "Cassandra," At this point anyone who's anyone could tell that it's Cassandra with how much that woman talks, at times it's not really a problem for Doris but goddamn it she needs to get a grasp of this three chapter reading and this isnt helping her at all. Doris took out her phone, skimmed through the contacts for Cass, [center][b]To; Cassandra Can you tone down a bit, Mariah Carey. I can hear your hardcore belting from here.[/b] [/center] Well, as if she could get anything in her head after 4 hours of reading at this point now that her brain's a bit scrambled. A good excercise usually livens her up, so now she changed costumes from an oversized Michelin man shirt to a work out attire. [i]""Everybody in position, and one! Two! Three! Looking good!"[/i] Doris went full on Pump-it-up on this cheesy fitness video she scoured at the dankest parts of the video store. Her hair head banned and tied into a bun, wearing a skin tight two piece work out outfit, her impressive energy and vigor could start a forest fire. [i]"Ok now bend over, yeah that's it! Now lets do some squatting. Aaaaaand One, two, alright!" [/i]She's now shamelessly thrusting her butt, complying at the overtly muscular man in a crop top shirt and a pair of leggings on the T.V screen. The volume tuned up that it's now equally blaring to the sound of Alex's guitar and Cassandra's singing, way to start everyone's morning with some 80's synthpop dance music whilst a man encouraging to "go lower" in the background. [hr]