Perched atop a tall barstool, I awaited Amanda’s arrival. We had set out to have a fun girl’s evening filled with drinks, dancing and perhaps some harmless flirtation. Instead, Amanda was late and I---lost in thought.
“Maybe I should accept Music Man’s invitation” I pondered, stirring my vodka cranberry. When he asked me out earlier that week, Nice Alex nearly leapt at the chance. But as tempting as it is to “fling” with the same manic musician I always fall in love with, I am on a mission to improve my picker. It is a personal decision based on more facts than I can share with you---but please trust me, readers---it’s the right call.
Nice Alex baulked of course, so I sent her to the naughty step for a time out.
Having come to terms with my decision, I leaned in to take another sip. But I was suddenly shaken when two men [quite literally] descended upon me.
To my left was a short stocky ginger in a red cut-off T. His eyelids were burdened with beer, and it seemed to take all his energy to slur a drink offer. I declined by pointing to my already purchased libation, but that didn’t stop him from offering a second and third time.
To my right was a thin man in a […wait for it…] grey cut-off T. As his lips parted I became simultaneously aware of both his breath on my neck and the toothlessness of his smile.
Did I mention I was upstate?
And you wonder why I don’t write fiction!!
Mere moments later, an alleluia chorus began to sing; a bright light poured through the bar door; and I looked up to see Amanda prancing in. I swear I love that girl, but I had never been so glad to see her in my entire life.
Though we immediately relocated to the other side of the bar, the Tweedles (Drunk and Dumb) were miraculously able to transcend their intoxication and hone in on our coordinates. Amanda (a little more vocal than I) asked them to give us some space. When that didn’t happen…
“Al, maybe we should go check out Handshakes.”
“Handshakes! Grea, we’ll definnnnitely go wit yous!” chimed Tweedle Drunk.
Sad but true, we were in a classic trap: Two young women trying not to start a problem, and two inebriated men with no concept of their own creep factor.
Unfortunately, most women will find themselves in this situation at least once in their lives.
Amanda retreated to the bathroom while I remained to watch our drinks and guard our bags. Just when I thought staying behind was the wrong choice, a familiar man walked into the bar. He was tall, and strutted with some authority; his big brown eyes surveying the scene. Instinctively, I scooted closer.
I breathed a sigh of relief when we struck up a light conversation---perhaps now the Tweedles would mosey on.
But just then…
“Hello my friend!” Amanda greeted, returning from the powder room.
“We know him?!” I thought. “Even better!”
At that moment, I remembered who this person was. This was Airforce Guy…a military man whom Amanda had dated a few months before. I heard stories of their intrigues and though I wasn’t sure how I felt about them as a couple---I knew I was okay with him standing between us and Deliverance.
We’re safe! I thought. A military guy who has loyalty to Amanda will surely be able to intimidate these hicks. But like most things in my awkward life---it couldn't be that simple.
To Be Continued…