Aitches, Charleston Sunday

Geoffry brushed his teeth. He brushed them slowly and deliberately trying to hold on to one action so that he wouldn't vomit. His mind was a dull throb barley having been able to force his feet into his Homer Simpson head slippers. He spat into the sink and took a palm fool of water splashing his face with it. His bathrobe loosely tide he stumbled into the kitchen. 'Bacon?' he thought as he held onto the door frame.
"It;s your turn to take the trash out." Geoffry's room mate chirped. Henrietta, had been named after was four eight but perpetually pranced on her tiptoes. At times she was painfully cheerful.
"What's for breakfast, Hen?" She just kept dancing around the kitchen stirring eggs and putting toast in the toaster oven. "What? Did I do something last night?" Instead of responding Henrietta stopped and just looked at Geoffry. He thought what she must see. His disheveled hair and suntanned skin. If only she were a little taller and maybe not such big hips but then again-
"Geoffers!" Came a muffled yawn from his bedroom behind him. Henrietta smirked and resumed her breakfast. Geoffry turned and saw a girl curled up in his bed she seemed to be just starting to realize that she had a hangover.
"Hen, who is that?" Geoffry breathed between his teeth. "Hen, come on I seriously had no idea when I came in here."

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