Absolute Smokeshow

I Wanna Take You To A Gay Bar

Smoke escapes into the night air as you exhale. A soft, warm breeze makes the cloud dissipate as you bring the joint up to your lips again to take a long drag. Hopefully, it wouldn't take much more to calm you down. You tried to avoid crowded, social spaces when you could, but a couple of your friends had convinced you to go to the newly-opened queer bar with them. "I guess it's better than a straight bar," was your defeated response, unable to argue with a friend who had recently gone through a bad breakup.

The moment you stepped into the bar, your anxiety began steadily increasing. It seemed like the city's entire queer community was packed into the building; drinking, dancing, and enjoying the night. The cacophony of music and chatter made the bar seem all the more crowded as you followed your friends toward the only available bartender. You looked around at some of the women on the dance floor as your friends order and anxiously wondered if any of your exes were there. After downing your water, you let your friends know you're going to get some air before pushing past several people to get to the door that let out into the alleyway. Now here you were, cursing the fact that you only brought the one joint to what was already a far more popular bar than you had bargained for.

A loud burst of music and chatter hit your ears as the bar door swung open, depositing an angry-looking woman into the alley. Swinging back around at the door, she kicked it closed with a grunt. Pushing her dark hair out of her eyes, she notices you for the first time. You try to put on what you really hope is a harmless smile that conveys you don't intend to anger her further and give a little wave.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," the familiarity of the Australian accent catches you off-guard.
"No worries," you pretend to be casual in case this was someone you'd met already, not wanting to deal with more social awkwardness than necessary if she realized you didn't remember, "I'm sure that door had it coming."

You re-light the joint you had instinctively put out earlier in response to the sudden noise. The woman sighs and leans against the wall next to you, "It's not the damn door, it's..." she watches you take a hit, "Can I have a bit?"
"Sure," you hand her the joint - it looks like she needs it. You fidget with the hem of your skirt as she takes a hit and you try to remember where you might know her from, "So what's wrong?"

She hands the joint back and you place your mouth carefully around the black lipstick now smudged on one end as she sighs again, letting out a steady stream of smoke, "My boyfriend is in there hitting on some fucking twink," she kicks a nearby rock.

You cough despite not having inhaled very much. Whatever you thought you were about to hear, it wasn't that. Noticing your confusion, she places her open palm in front of you, "Let me have some more of that and maybe I'll tell you about it."

Another big hit and she starts explaining, letting smoke come out as she spoke, "So we got together, blah blah blah, it was good, y'know?" - another hit from the joint - "Then one night, he sees me checking out this gorgeous woman and the next thing I know we're in an open relationship so I can 'explore my sexuality,'" - she flicks away some ash - "meanwhile he's always known he's bi, so he's off chatting up men while I'm on the sidelines trying to figure out how to fucking flirt!"

She offers you the joint back but you shake your head, "Sounds like you need that more than I do." It was starting to hit you a bit anyway, and you tried not to stare as the embers of the bud illuminated her features. Suddenly, a light floods out into the alley and the noise returns. You look over to see the silhouette of two of your inebriated friends peering out into the darkness. You call out an amused "Hey guys" in response to your name.

"Come dance with us!" they insist. You shake your head, "I love you guys, but I am NOT going back in there."
"Ooo, she's with someone!" one of your friends whispered loudly to the other, "Wait, is that...?"
"Shhh!"
The door slowly closes behind them as they duck back inside, "Isn't that Rhea Ripley?"

You tried not to let the realization phase you, instead focusing on the relief that you definitely hadn't met this woman before and didn't have to keep worrying about remembering how you knew her. A dry cough brings you out of your thoughts and you look over to see Rhea flicking the roach in the general direction of trash bin.

"Got any more?" she asked.
"Not on me," the apology was evident in your voice, "There's more at my place if- I mean you totally don't have to- it's just that I have a bong and-and-"
"Are you asking me over?" she seemed surprised.
"Yes?" You held your breath.
"Let's go, then."