About Last Night…
I looked outside my window, everything looked grey. It has been two weeks since Jenny broke up with me and I still haven’t recovered. The last thing I wanted to do is put myself in a situation to get hurt again.
“Come on bro, you have to come!” George pleaded.
“I can’t, it hurts too much.” I said wincing at even the thought of the past.”
“Trust me, you’re gonna have a lot of fun. What better way to get over an ex than to get a rebound. Who knows, you might find that special someone.” George said as he dragged me outside our house.
The first order of business that night was to find a bar and get some of our drinking done. There we avoided the outrageous amount it cost to drink at the club.
The bar was a short taxi ride from our house and had drink specials all day long. My plan at first was only to have a drink or two. I didn’t want to get drunk, I didn’t even want to be there. But ever since Jenny broke up with me I wasn’t eating much and today was no different.
Usually, with a good meal under my belt, it takes 3–4 drinks for me to start feeling tipsy. I had two and I was already stumbling under my feet. The rowdy ambiance of the bar turned into background noise and in my inebriation, I felt a sense of control. After one more drink, we headed to our next stop.
George got us on the guest list so getting into the club was a breeze.
This was my first time out in over a year and as we strolled past the line I was astonished at the number of attractive girls there were.
Jenny was in the back of my mind, the only thing that I was worried about was choosing which girl I would be bringing home.
On a drunken whim, we took two more shots immediately after we stepped inside the club.
George and I split up with plans to meet up later in the night; he went to the washroom and I jumped onto the dance floor.
I had no care in the world, I was enjoying the euphoric sensation that was taking over me.
I tried to shimmy my way to the front but maneuvering forward was more like competing in Wipeout. As soon as I managed to pass one person’s arm I had to dodge the next person’s leg then swerve someone else’s hip then sidestep another person’s stomach.
After finally managing a way to make it to the front, I instantly regretted it.
The thunderous bass struck my eardrums with such force, it made it hard to do anything but contemplate after how much longer it would take to reach full hearing loss.
Five drinks were perfect for me, five drinks put me in the optimal state. I was drunk enough where I felt I could let loose but sober enough to still be in control. I call this the state of being wavy.
The ambiance in the club was energetic; on the dance floor, people subconsciously divided themselves into different packs.
The group I gravitated to the most was the hardcore dancers. It felt like I was in an 80’s hip-hop dance battle where one person would dance and show a few moves then someone else would jump in and take over.
When I was younger I took some dance classes but I wasn’t as well practiced as the people that were participating.
Standing on the periphery, my heart was beating fast, my pulse was racing. I wanted to jump in, but even in my wavy state, I was hesitant. I knew I had to wait for the right opportunity to showcase what I got.
That was when I heard it.
The DJ switched the track and played my song.
The DJ played Teach Me How to Dougie. If you haven’t heard that song then all you need to know is the song is intoxicating.
As soon as the bass dropped and the treble hit, my whole body was taken over.
I hesitated not a second more. I leaped into the middle of the circle and let the music possess my body.
That night I chose to wear a pair of Nike Air Max trainers. The outsoles gave me enough traction to be able to bounce in and out of every move but were slick enough to allow me to seamlessly glide across the floor.
I’m not sure if the alcohol was making me less self-aware or I was actually was dancing well, but I felt like I was killing it, and the people around me were gesturing as if I was.
During my spontaneous choreography, I noticed a girl on the perimeter taking a keen interest in my dancing and was really cheering me on.
After the song finished, not wanting to lose this opportunity, I shimmied my way over to where she was standing.
For all the things clubs have going for them, striking up an audible conversation is not one of them. Not wanting my words to get lost in the translation I leaned over, placed my hand on the small of her back and suggested we take a shot.
Waving the bartender over, I nonchalantly lifted two fingers and pointed at the tequila.
“Wow! You’re an amazing dancer!” she said.
“Oh that, pffffttt. That was nothing, but thanks. I’m Roger by the way” I said as I reached out and kissed the top of her hand.
“Preece” she responded blushing.
“Cheers to a night to remember,” I exclaimed as we downed our shots of tequila and sucked on our limes.
It turns out the reason why she was there was to celebrate one of her friends’ birthday. There was a whole group of them scattered around the club.
After a few more minutes of getting to know each other and exchanging each other’s numbers, we decided it was time to get back on the dance floor.
Heading back to the dance floor, Preece was rudely bumped into from behind.
Not knowing any kind of martial arts or even been in a legitimate fight before I wasn’t sure if I would be able to protect her from the perpetrator. But, if this meant taking her home tonight I was prepared to do anything.
“Girl, where you been?”
To my relief, it was Preece’s best friend Lauren. She came with Preece to celebrate their mutual friend’s birthday. And to my utter delight, George was with Lauren the whole night.
This was the ideal situation. George and I instantly locked eyes and flashed each other a look because we both knew the opportunity we had for ourselves tonight.
The next few songs were slow jams. Not wanting to waste any time, I spun Preece around and brought her close to me while keeping in sync with the rhythm of the music.
The moist texture of our cheeks made contact as I whispered something in her ear. Our fingers interlocked and her breast pressed up against my chest.
At first, we were doing a pseudo-waltz, two-stepping, left to right. Then, I spun her around again, this time her ass against my junk.
The music started to pick up, and so did her movements.
She began to move her hips left and right while still squeezed firmly against my junk and in a telepathic fashion, in the queue with the music, dropped it low when the music permitted.
As she swayed back and forth, her ass abutted against my junk, she grabbed my hands and wrapped them against her waist. She then proceeded to direct my hands lower and lower and lower.
Wanting to kiss her but not being able to reach her lips, I kissed her neck instead.
At first, I landed a few delicate kisses to test the water. After a few of those, I started to extend the length of kisses on her neck. With my ear inches from her mouth, I heard her moan through the roaring of the crowd.
We danced for a few more songs until she needed to use the restroom.
It might have been the alcohol or my overall tiredness but as I stood leaned up against the wall waiting for her, I closed my eyes for an extended blink.
What felt no more than a few seconds, was in reality 15 minutes.
The time was 1:50 AM and the club closed in 10 minutes.
Knowing that if I didn’t find Preece now there would be no second chance in leaving with another girl, I scurried around the club desperately looking for her. I had no regard for any of the other patrons in the club or what I looked like.
People must have thought I was cracked out. I was rabid in my search for her, I must have done at least two laps around the inside of the club.
Remembering I had her number, I pulled out my phone to send her a message when I saw that I had one already from her. It turns out that she had already left with the rest of her friends to finish the birthday girl’s celebration somewhere else.
At the end of the message, she said we will talk more tomorrow.
Fairly frustrated with not leaving with a girl tonight, I still was satisfied with the possibility of a residual hookup.
The next morning, slightly hungover from the previous night’s escapades, I was optimistic that I would capitalize from last night’s budding romance.
I shot Preece the classic ‘how are you feeling’ text so we could share the suffering from the morning after hangover.
I showered, changed, made some breakfast and when I went to check my phone again I came back to a message from Preece:
About last night… don’t think you did anything wrong because you were great but I actually have a girlfriend, I’m a lesbian. Fun night tho.
