Rachel took one last lingering look over her living room. Her worn cozy couch with her blanket draped over the back. A half finished book on the coffee table with its bookmark between the pages peeking out almost pulled her back in. She'd spent too many Saturday nights curled up reading a good book with a cup of mint tea. It was so easy to stay home, but she would never find a real man in the pages of a book no matter how well they were written.
She had agonized over her appearance in the mirror turning this way and that. Rachel realized that she didn't really have any 'going out clothes' anymore. She mostly dressed for work and lounging. She did have that new black dress, but of course she couldn't wear that. She'd worn it to Sean's dad's funeral. Besides it was too fancy for the likes of The Beef.
Did people still wear scarves? A discarded pile of clothes began to build on her bed, "When did I become so ... out of it?" she asked herself. It was too late now, she chose dark wash jeans and a navy semi fitted shirt. She had heard a television show once talking about dressing as a column of colour once and she wondered if this made her look pulled together and lean or if it made her look like a literal column.
"Is that what you're wearing?" Angela had asked when she had picked her up from her apartment building. "Ya," she shrugged, "I guess I'll have to wow him with my sparkling personality. Is it that bad?" Angela laughed, "Well no one will accuse of you trying to hard. I'm pretty sure I've seen you dressed the exact same way at the grocery store." Angela flipped down the mirror checking her makeup.
To be honest Rachel didn't mind the assessment. Sometimes in a bar like that it was better to be underdressed than overdressed. Trying too hard was definitely embarrassing. It was bad enough that there would probably be dancing, she didn't also need to be watched. "So I'll park, but we're ok to take a cab home?" Rachel wanted to clarify the plan, but she really wanted to remind Angela that she had agreed to drive Rachel back in the morning to retrieve her car.
"So does Sean have any cute friends?" Angela had been quizzing her for the last few days, but Rachel had to admit that she didn't really know. She thought about the guys he was hanging around with at the funeral, some old friends from maybe, but Dan was married with kids, Craig still lived in their home town so probably wouldn't drive. Rachel almost wished Randy would be there just for the entertainment, but knew he had gotten his license suspended.
The girls walked into the bar. Rachel had her ID handy, but the bouncer merely glanced at them before deciding they most certainly did not need to be carded. Rachel realized how long it had been since she had been in The Beef, or a bar of this type in general. There was a lot of adjustments that needs to be made quickly to acclimatize to the dark, the noise, the stickiness of the floors.
A slow lap around the bar revealed a few empty booths, but no sign of Sean. "Do you see them?" Angela shouted over 'Living on a Prayer'. Rachel shook her head, "No, I guess we beat them here. Let's get a drink." They settled into a booth with a view of the door and sipped their drinks. Rachel, even though she didn't love beer, ordered a bottle. She was always a little squeamish about the liquids that came out of the bartender's spray hose.
One beer came three and Rachel was feeling the music. "Let's dance!" she yelled across at the Angela. I love this song! Any worry about being seen on the dance floor had vanished after that third drink and the crowd was festive and light. She was surprised how many people she knew. "Why don't I do this more often," she yelled at Angela. "I don't know!" Angela yelled back moving her body in time with the music.
Rachel and Angela had already been at the bar for an hour by the time she felt a hand on her hip from someone behind her. She had almost forgot about Sean as she whipped around to see who's hand it was. "Hey!!!" she was using a real life of the party voice, "you made it." "What'd I miss," he slid in easily to the group and began dancing along side them.
When the song ended, Sean led the girls to the bar for some shots. "Porn stars," he yelled holding up three fingers. "This is my friend Angela." Angela gave a little wave before the three of them three back the drinks. Sean abruptly left the bar signalling to the girls to follow. He led them to a long table along the wall ushering them to sit. "Guys," he shouted, "this is Rachel. She's my old friend from high school so back off, and this is her hot friend..." "Angela," Angela said waving down the length of the table.
Servers were coming and going taking orders and clearing empty bottles and glasses. It was getting hard to keep track of how many drinks she'd had. The first few chords of 'Fishing in the Dark" blasted over the speakers and almost immediately everyone at the table stood and filtered their way to the dance floor. One does not simply sit through a Nitty Gritty Dirt Band song.
Rachel sang. She danced with Rachel. Sean tried to two step, poorly mind you, for a few measures, and then an ultrasound tech she knew from the hospital gave her a twirl. Because everyone was in motion she didn't realize that Sean's dancing had turned to pushing until multiple people were involved. The dance floor because a swarm of limbs tangled and heaving. Rachel and Angela from the fringes watched as dancing turned to fighting.
The bouncers flew into the melee, pulling Sean and the tech apart. Sean yelled but it was lost in the sea of guitars and "ohhhh ohhh ohhhh, feels so good to be with you." She could tell that the words were venomous as she watched the techs face, as she watched spittle form around Sean's mouth.
"You come here often?" A familiar voice came from beside her. She had been so transfixed on Sean, who had now been restrained by a bouncer for quite some time, try to squirm and twist out of his hold. "Oh my god, no," she said as Officer Chris Banks smiled at her. His partner was now speaking to Sean in the middle of the dance floor. "Do you?" she asked desperately trying to extend the conversation. "When the asshats act up I come a running," he used a thumb to point at Sean. "That guy is basically my bat signal."
His partner began leading Sean off the dance floor towards the exit and gestured for Chris to come. "Looks like I have a date with an idiot. It was good to see you. You look good in these police blues." Even though Rachel was flushed from the dancing and the beers she was sure he could see the colour running into her cheeks. "See you Asshat Man," she called after him as he left to join his partner and Sean.
CITEȘTI
Salad, Sandwiches, Dainties and Punch
Ficțiune generalăI'm probably writing about your hometown
