Thursday, April 14, 2011

Fever Episode 1


            I’ll start with a quick glance around the room.  I see you. I see your stupidity, your vapid cell phone conversations, your dreams to be famous and every teenage erection or wet spot.  I hear the quick gulps of your undeserved celebratory quaffing.   But I just want to be sure.  Do I hate you?  There that girl, she’s the sexiest thing in this damn bar.  I’ll approach her and I can be the next man she swats away like a fly.
            “Hey Bobby, another round of shots for you guys?”
I swivel my bar stool, skip passed the anxious bartender, and look at a pursed lipped, eyes glazed over, lumbering Don shaking his head, ‘oh yeah.’  We both shoot a double of rum.
“Don what do you think of that girl over there?  This is the last girl I’ll try tonight I swear.”
I point out that dazzling gourmet sex dish.  She’s laughing and wildly gesturing with her pink cocktail in hand.  She wants to be noticed.
“Why do you do this to yourself?  You know she’s going to say no.  Why do we even come to these clubs? We don’t fit in with the sexy shiny crowd.”
I’m bolting from my seat with a fever of bravery, I’m moving towards the goddess.  I hear Don shout something over the droning club music.  He’s probably ordering another drink. 
I can tell I’ve got her attention and her little club clique’s gaze as I’m walking over.  I know she’s going to say no.  I’m within a possibly audible distance but I don’t think that’s enough.  They pause their conversations and turn their lopsided faces at me.  I give them all a smirk and dart in with my mouth delicately close to her ear. I whisper.
“Do you think your boyfriend would mind if--”
Those eloquent words slowly slurred and fell from my drunken gob.  Suddenly some bumping and grinding couple or maybe someone behind me scooting their stool out, or maybe it was my own drunken stature threw my open lips into a glorious wet contact with her pretty little ear.
Don is standing over me with his hand out.  The music has stopped and I’m flat on my back.  Don gets me back on my feet and a spinning room quickly pans by as the exit sign is growing larger.  I can hear the bar owner.
“Bobby if I see your face around here again—after pulling that shit!”
We’re out the door of the Nova Club and it’s now a muffled roar, or maybe that’s my head.  Don is laughing his ass off as we head down the alley.  He’s sort of wobbling to the right as he looks back at me and holds his stomach as he laughs.
“Okay now I’ve never seen you come on that strong before!  Did you just give up on your lame ass pick up lines and just hope a little tongue would get you in?”
“I think I might have chipped my tooth on her earring.”
 “Oh you’re fine!  Besides if anything chipped your tooth it was Mr. Spray-on-tan’s gold watch.”
“Who?”
“Uh the guy who back handed you when you started tonguing that chick’s eardrum.”
            I’m not really interested in learning the details of my downfall.  Then I recognize Don’s signature drunken stagger.
            “Don you’re not turning over garbage bins or pissing in the street.  We need to hit another bar.”  

    
 

At sea

There are very few worries on a steerable cardboard boat at sea.