Would You Rather

1 - WYR: box or dragon hunt?

FINLEY

I had no distinct interest in romance.

Never did.

I think my personality gets in the way.

I had my first kiss at fifteen, first boyfriend at sixteen, lost my virginity at seventeen and have had mingled hookups since then. All that, and I never really found it to be what my friends did. I never really wanted it. I always found the thought more of a burden than anything.

I just don't care about it.

I like sex, in the right mood, and I sort of like having close friends, so it's not some sort of emotional intimacy thing, I'm just not distinctly interested in partnership, I would guess.

Okay, maybe somewhat interested. In a far-off sense, like having someone around the holidays, or a travel partner or something.

Just. Not now. There is no real interest now.

That doesn't change one fact: I'm applying to med school, potentially the hardest and scariest thing I've ever done in my entire life, and if there's one thing that four years of college has taught me, it's that sometimes the easiest way to reset the stress, to clear your head, is to have a good, sturdy, mind-numbing hookup.

And on Saturday night, four weeks into the semester, I had one thing on my mind: getting hot and heavy. Getting my head off of school and on a pillow, preferably with some other emotionally troubled stressed-out person that needs something quick. It probably won't be good, but that's fine. I don't need it to be good. I just need it to not be school.

"Fin!" My roommate, Nat, breaks into my view, arms crossed over her chest. "Who are you staring at?"

I tip the mouth of my glass, some sort of malted grapefruit something-or-other with a tastefully high alcohol content, toward a pack of guys in the back arguing around a pool table.

"Oh, jeez," Nat gets up onto the step I'm standing on. It's at the bottom of the wide staircase that leads up to the second level of Casey's Bar. The second level, a quieter part, is a ringed balcony around the joint, looking down on pool tables, screens showing sports games, and high-top tables full of bustling college kids and some older clientele. 

Casey's is the best, and the best hidden, place to visit in Regina. Being just outside of the college area, it's not all college students, but it's still in the more youthful section of Regina, which keeps it from being an old-goer's bar, despite the dated decorations, dart boards, and the pool tables. The one especially jarring thing that keeps it younger is the loud music and the dance floor that's always a bit packed and a bit sweaty. With not a ton of places to go in Regina, the places that do exist have to get creative with what they have to offer. Bar, nightclub, pool club, darts tournoment, and western sports bar all in one? Casey's has you covered. 

"See the one with the kind-of mullet?" I lean over to whisper in her ear. "Talking to the guy with the long black hair."

She nods. "With the crooked nose?"

"Yeah."

"He's... hm. I see it." Nat mumbles. "Kind of. Maybe it's your rural jumping out to play."

"Don't make fun of me." I nudge her with my elbow.

"He's the type of guy you sort of have to preface before you show your friends a photo. Like, having to tack on details. He looks a little funky but his dick is huge or he looks a little funky but he can cook! But I get it. I completely get why you think he's hot." She smiles at me. "You got a plan or do you want me to walk with you?"