Two guys came over to ask us to dance. Of course, pretty Patty got the good-looking one and I ended up with the big lump who had a face like the back of a bus.
He wasn't much of a dancer either. I suppose it's hard when you're such a hulking lump.
Oh, stop it, you cranky bitch. The guy's actually built like a brick shithouse and some might say had rugged good looks, but they would be in the very small minority and that didn't include me.
The bloody lump kept getting in the way as I tried to see what my arsehole ex was up to. It was saying something. 'Do you come here often?'
Oh, fabulous. How original. What would the next line be: 'what's your star sign?' I could hardly wait.
"Occasionally," I yelled back over the loud music.
"I've never been here before."
"Really," this was scintillating stuff.
"The bloody music's loud."
Of course it's loud, you lump. It's a nightclub. The music always loud (too loud?) in a nightclub. Where've you been, living in a cave I suppose?
I caught a glimpse of Tony and red dress snogging in the middle of the dance floor. Shit.
"Let's have a drink," said the lump.
Hey, you could've at least waited for me to answer. But no, my hand was swallowed up in the lump's great fist and he was manoeuvring me (quite deftly, I have to admit) through the press of dancers to the bar.
YOU ARE READING
Thea (and the hunk)
Short StoryThis is a story about finding love as a transgender female, and perhaps finding yourself as well. In many ways it is rather aggressive and abrupt, but it's still a love story. There are sardonic touches, wit and irony, and of course, discovery. It's...
