Tell him to fuck off!

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Brandi, her anger and frustration bubbling over, couldn't hold back her retort. "You're a slimy pervert, Marty, and you can go fuck yourself!" With that, she stormed past him and headed straight for the front desk. Members turned to watch the commotion. The receptionist, a kind-hearted woman named Melissa, watched the intense exchange between Brandi and Marty with growing concern.

She had been working at the fitness club for years and was all too familiar with Marty's inappropriate behavior. Brandi, her face flushed with anger, stormed away from Marty's office and headed straight past the front desk, towards the door. Melissa, without missing a beat, stopped her. "Brandi, let me help you file a complaint against that pig and let's call the police on those boys who were harassing you," she said, her voice filled with empathy. Brandi, grateful for Melissa's support, accepted her offer. Together, they quickly filled out the necessary paperwork.

Melissa, sensing Brandi's vulnerability, offered her a reassuring smile. "Don't let them get to you, Brandi. You're stronger than you think, and you've got people who have your back." Brandi, feeling a surge of gratitude, nodded her thanks. She knew that with Melissa's help, she was on her way to putting this ordeal behind her. Once the complaint was filed, Brandi left the pool without a backward glance, looking forward to her birthday party.

"Happy birthday, Brandi!" her friends cheered that night as she entered the room. The walls of the Mexican restaurant were adorned with brightly colored tapestries, and the air was filled with the tantalizing scent of spices and sizzling meats.

"Thanks, guys," she said, taking a seat at the table. The room was filled with laughter and chatter, and Brandi was happy to join in. "This place looks great, Kyle!" Brandi smiled, taking a seat at the table. She was grateful for their company.

"I know, right? I've been meaning to bring you here for ages," Kyle replied, flipping through the menu. Brandi wondered if that meant that Kyle wanted to bring her here on a date. Her stomach fluttered. "What do you want to drink, Brandi? They have some amazing margaritas."

"Just a Dr. Pepper for me," said Brandy. "I'm turning eighteen, not twenty-one." She smiled though.

"I have a fake I.D.," Kyle whispered conspiratorially, "And besides, they don't really care too much here. I'll tell you what, you can share mine."

"Sounds perfect," Brandi said with a grin. They got two straws and she felt a bit like Lady and the Tramp. As they perused the menu, the mariachi band began to play, their lively music filling the room. Brandi's friends cheered, and the waiter approached their table with a large sombrero.

"Happy birthday, Brandi!" they all chorused as she reluctantly put on the birthday sombrero. The mariachi band then began to play "Happy Birthday," and Brandi laughed and blushed, feeling the warmth of their love and affection.

"So, have you heard anything about those jerks who stole your bikini bottoms yet?" Kyle asked, his voice filled with disdain.

Brandi nodded, her smile faltering slightly. "No, I haven't. But I'm not too worried about it, as long as I don't see them back at the pool." The others nodded in agreement, and the conversation turned to other topics.

The meal was filled with laughter, good food, and even better company. Brandi savored every bite, grateful for the simple joy of being surrounded by her friends. As the night drew to a close, one by one, Brandi's friends began to leave.