The Whipping Turn

Paris - Present day

Jenna grimaced as she looked toward her two friends. She wasn't completely sure whether their dancing was ironic or if they had given up on trying to hook up and were really just letting loose. After further watching, it was likely the first option, she decided. She knew them well, but she had no intention of joining their dance. She pondered, what was the female equivalent of a cockblock, anyway?

Absently chewing on the straw of her G&T, and leaning on her elbows against the high table, Jenna mentally sifted through French slang and then English. She was so entangled in her thoughts she barely noticed two men approaching her table.

They exchanged a nod of acknowledgement but stood separately from her, continuing their conversation.

Content in her musings, she considered the atmosphere of the gay bar, confident they likely wouldn't be trying to strike up a conversation with her. And with their impressive height and breadth—perhaps they could serve as an unintentional deterrent to more brave patrons.

Jenna glanced back to the dancefloor to see Shawna jumping and waving. It was more of a hello than a 'come here' and while glad her friend was checking in, she remained happy to be here and not on the dancefloor.

"Friends of yours?" the taller of the two men asked, socially.

Dammit, Shawna had given them an in, and now she couldn't be rude. "Yes, though not sure if I want to be associated with that dancing, right now."

The guy chuckled politely. It wasn't really funny. "You're not joining them, then?"

"Ha, no, infact I'm trying not to be a...a...um...what's the female equivalent of a cockblock?"

The chuckle turned into a full laugh and the taller man's eyes crinkled as he broke into a big and real smile.

The shorter man, if short is an appropriate description of someone clearly over six foot, looked amused but quietly offered up, as a question, "I think what you're looking for is Twat Swat?"

To which, both Jenna and 'Mr Tall' properly laughed.

"Where did you get that one?!" he exclaimed, turning to his partner, clearly surprised.

Mr Short looked faintly pleased and bemused. "I spent way too much time in bars with girl friends, being the swat that is." Jenna grinned at his confession, noting Mr Tall pulling his guy closer for a subtle hug.

"So do you come out to be a twat swat often?" Tall directed back to Jenna.

These weren't creeps and they were vaguely funny at least, so Jenna swiveled more towards them, took a small sip from her diminished drink and smiled, which wasn't always her go-to reaction in these places.

"No, I'm along for the ride." The two men laughed and Jenna realised her phrase could be taken another way.

"Err, no that's not quite right. I'm here for moral support. That one," She pointed to Shawna "she broke up with, well, a short-term girlfriend and wants to get laid. And that one, " pointing to a jumping Henri "he broke up with an even shorter-term boyfriend and wants to get laid."

"How short is short these days?" mused Tall. It was slightly rhetorical but Jenna answered anyway, in an effort of maintaining the rules of conversation. "Ah, you would be hard pushed to decide whether it there was a 'couple' thing there or just a series of hookups," Jenna took another sip. "but still, what are friends for."

"Why aren't you over there then? What do you like?" said Mr Tall with what seemed to be inquisition and maybe a small flash of cheekiness.

"Ha! Can you see the dancing? I can't get on board with that. Plus, I really don't want to be a swat thing," She waved her arm and smiled genuinely, "and I like boys so this isn't really my scene."