Hello everyone! This is Part 1 of a fictional short story that I wrote and thought I would share it with those of you that enjoy tales of scandalous romances and things of that nature. I hope you enjoy it! I will be posting the other sections daily.
“Are we going out tonight?”
I turned to consider my best friend as she analyzed her reflection in the mirror and made her lips a bright cherry red with a tube of lipstick. I was lying in her twin-sized bed in a stupor from Friday’s drunken fiasco.
“You must be kidding, Christina, I’m not going out again. I can’t stand being in the bars with guys dancing on me. I’m hung over as hell.” I retorted. My sour stomach churned in protest. “I’m in abject agony.”
“Stop it silly. We’ll go to the gay bar tonight. I’ve wanted to check it for a while and see the vibe and you might meet someone cute. I’ll be your wing man for the night.”
“Downtown. Portland. I think it’s called Triangle Lounge.”
“How classy. Why don’t they just go ahead and name it the Taco Shop and make it more obvious?”
“Come do you hair girl, we’re leaving in thirty.” Christina fluffed her blonde wavy hair before turning to slip on pair of bejeweled Miss Me’s that were strewn across the bedroom floor.
“Two hours tops. I’m not kidding, Chris.”
“Hair of the dog, Raelene, I’ll buy you a couple drinks to take the edge off your hangover and we’ll have a girl on you in no time so you’ll stop being such a bitch.”
The warm, cheap vodka stung the back of my throat and stung the hairs in my nostrils as I choked down each sip of liquid poison from the silver flask I had snuck into the club. Triangle Lounge smelled like old beer, the lights were dim and there were women in every direction, I scanned the room for a male face, if I found one I was certain he would look as uncomfortable as I felt.
“Come outside when you’re done.” Christina yelled into my ear before breaking away to the outdoor smoke lounge, leaving me standing up against the wall. It had only been 30 minutes and I was still not in the mood. I wanted to leave. I gazed toward the bar; PBR was on tap for a dollar until 11:30 p.m..
“Maybe I should just get fucked up” I said to myself and folded my arms over my chest.
When I turned my head back to the right that is when I saw her.
The one with the long legs and masculine movements and Janis Joplin swag. Janis Joplin dripping from every pore. I could see she was slightly weathered and older looking even from afar, but had beautiful brown wavy hair that came from her scalp in luscious plumes and stopped just past her tan shoulders. She had to be around 45. Frozen and staring at her, I must have sent vibrations across the 30 foot expansion that separated us from one another. She looked toward me. Eyes locked. “I looked at you, you looked at me…” The music was blaring and there were girls everywhere, I felt intoxicated and disoriented but new I looked like a beautiful doll with my leather mini skirt on, big, fake eyelashes and red mouth. My head of brown ringlet curls silhouetted my face in a sexy poof. “Be confident! Just walk past her and go outside.” As I began to move it felt like my heart was trying to escape my ribcage. I could not even breathe. I walked past her and she followed my eyes the entire way until I disappeared to the outdoor patio.
Christina was at a table near the back sucking the life from a Marlboro Red. My back was turned away from the entrance to the lounge. I started explaining to her about the dream girl that had locked eyes with me.
“She looks about 45? Damn! I know you like older women but you’re pushing it don’t you think? You’re 23 she’s not going to go for that. She’s going to think you’re too young. I’m straight and I can say there are a lot of cute girls in here that are our age, so go talk to one of them, dude.” As soon as the words left her mouth the woman suddenly appeared to the side of me. A circuit of stabbing shock raced through my feet to the top of my head. She was leaning in close to me but was gazing at Christina; I quickly looked her over and was mesmerized by how young her body was despite her aging face. She was lean and beautiful in blue jeans and a cut off grey t-shirt that said ‘LGBT UNIVERSITY CLASS OF ’69.’
“Hey, girls” She had a lazy, Southern drawl. “How are you doing tonight?”
I kicked Christina under the table. That’s her, that’s the woman! My eyes were trying to tell her.
“Why did you just kick me?” Christina spat the words at me.
The woman put her beautiful, sparkling blue eyes on me and smiled and then laughed and told me her name was Karen and asked if I would like a beer. In the light, I found her roughness to be startling but her movements were incredibly confident and sexy. There was a tribal style tattoo right in the middle of her lean bicep.
“Sure. Yes” I manage to croak out the two words and I was quickly led away from Christina and ushered into the bustling night club. Time started to move faster as we guzzled a Bud Light before she pulled me to the dance floor, next thing I knew, my head was on her shoulder and she was holding me in her arms as we twisted and swayed to the country music.
“You’re beautiful. I saw you across the bar, and I was like is that young girl looking at me? No way!” she issued a deep, satisfied belly laugh: haw haw haw haw haw.
“I was.” The liquor in my system was making me more confident. “I’m young, but I know what I like when I see it.”
“Is that right? Well how young we talkin’?”
“23.” I replied and put my head back on her shoulder. I was spinning and we were spinning and her body was soft and I was actually touching her. This reality, I could not believe.
“Hmm. Well I’m 47.”
I lifted my head to offer a smile in reply and stared into her eyes, “You remind me of Janis Joplin”
“Whatchu know ‘bout Janis Joplin?” she asks.
“I know you resemble her and you move like her and you talk like her.”
Karen laughed. “You’re cute; you should come over to my place for a swim. You can bring your friend and we can hang out ‘n have a few beers.”
It was midnight and even though she had me transfixed, I did not know this mysterious woman and I was trying to avoid getting murdered. I told her that Christina probably did not want to swim.
“Ask her then!” Karen persisted, smiling broadly.
“I’ll text her I guess.”
DUDE. She invited us to her place to chill out and have beer and go swimming. LETS GO. I NEED YOU TO DO THIS FOR ME.
Within 30 seconds my phone alerted me of Christina’s responding text message. No. She’s old and creepy. She could kill us.
I HAVE MACE AND IT WILL BE FINE IF YOU DO THIS WITH ME. WE’LL LEAVE IMMEDIATELY IF IT’S SHADY. I WANT TO TALK TO HER. PLEASE CHRISTINA.
She replied quickly. YOU OWE ME YOUR FIRST BORN FOR THIS ONE RAELENE.
Ten minutes later, the three of us went out into the night.