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Doctor Alchemy inadvertently caused a surge in women hitting on Renee when he branded her with a double venus, so at least there was that. Now that she was single again, there was no reason to deny them.
There’s a blonde sitting on the barstool across Renee, swinging her legs. “My friend says girls give better head. That true?”
Oh, brother. Renee was too old for this; entertaining straight girls was only acceptable for co-ed dykes.
Then again, she’s unemployed, despondent, and how often does one come across a size 6 with triple D’s?
“Bartender,” Renee shouts. “Two shots, please.”