How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Twenty One: The Bird's Nest

Cinnamon pretzels were something to behold.

Sparkly cinnamon and sugar coated my fingers and the napkin. My newspaper I kept tucked under my arm while I walked toward the Bird's Nest. It had to be after seven by now and I could see some kids lining up at the door and walking inside. This was my chance!

But...was food allowed inside? I thought I'd better wait until I was finished with my-

Splat.

I stared down at the mess of cinnamon and sugar at my feet. My pretzel, being almost ungodly large and delicious, broke in half and went tumbling onto the sidewalk. Right next to my mustard shoe. I must have stood there for hours, staring down at my wasted meal. Sure I still had a good bit left in my napkin. But that didn't make up for all that I lost in the street! 

My heart wrenched in two, just like the pretzel, I picked up the pathetic mess and tossed it in a trash can. Also swarming with flies. Shooing them away, I moped towards the club, eating what little I had left. After cleaning myself off I held my newspaper in my hands and looked inside the open doors to the club. 

It was dark. 

There was some music playing but it sounded like disco. No one standing by the door turned me away so I figured I looked young enough to get inside. The kids all ignored me and I kept to myself. This was all for research. Making the most of my spontaneous time traveling adventure. 

Even with the loud disco music I could hear and feel my stomach growling. Half a pretzel just wasn't enough. Thinking about it covering the sidewalk soured my mood so I shook it off. There were teens of all ages here, just hanging out or dancing on the floor. One of them I swear wore a pair of roller skates. A couple of them drank out of what looked to be cans of beer. So far there were no small children chugging juice boxes. Probably a good thing. At the sight and the smell of the thick marijuana smoke, I realized this was not at all a good place for children. 

Or a pregnant woman. 

I wormed my way through the crowd of teens and found a nice quiet table to sit at. There was some kind of bottle on the table but it faced away from me. I took out my paper and pretended to read. All the kids at the club seemed intent on dancing to the music or socializing. Really, just like any other club or party. 

Kind of boring, actually. I'd rather have been at a backstage party interviewing the boys. Watching Bon make friends with everyone in the room, quietly observing the genius passed between Malcolm and Angus as they played their guitars together, and have a pleasant conversation with Cliff and Phil. All of us had been so busy it felt like I barely said a word to any of them! That was it. Tomorrow I'd stay up all night if I had to, socializing with those men at whatever party they threw. I'd make a terrific story. I would!

"Excuse me?" I snapped out of my daydream and saw a young girl, maybe sixteen standing by the table I was sitting at. "Could you hand me that bottle over there?" 

I looked at the bottle I couldn't see very well and picked it up. Twisting it around I saw the label on the front and froze. They were Quaaludes. 

I couldn't believe it! I was holding a bottle of drugs!

The girl looked at me expectantly and I assumed they were hers. But...my chest tightened and my stomach twisted. I really didn't feel comfortable handing anybody drugs, let alone a minor. My conscience writhing in pain, I pushed the bottle across the table and let her pick it up. "Thanks," she said and walked off. 

I probably killed that girl. What if she overdosed and died because of me? It was all my fault! 

I collected my newspaper and just left, worming my way through the crowds again. Maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing but I suddenly felt very uncomfortable and out of place. Hoping not to get stepped on by anyone's platform shoes or be drenched in stolen beer I slipped out the door and back into the evening. I could still see some sparkly cinnamon and sugar on the ground from my pretzel. To really rub salt in the wound. 

I just gave a teenage girl a bottle of drugs. Perhaps they were hers and she bought them. But I shouldn't have sat at that table. That girl still had braces for God's sake!

Wait...I had braces....

Another harrowing thought filled my mind. 

My retainer!

On instinct my hand reached for my mouth. I could feel my teeth behind my closed lips and with my tongue. They still felt straight. How could I have been so careless?? It had been days since I wore my retainer! My teeth could have been all crooked by now since I didn't have it with me! And I am NOT going through braces a second time. 

But maybe the time travel halted their movement. Like hair didn't grow, perhaps teeth didn't shift. I could only hope and pray. And just when I thought things were bad enough, I remembered I stole Malcolm's toothpaste.

I raced away from the club, hoping to make it back to the hotel before it got dark. I checked my pocket to make sure I still had Stelle's spare key. Although losing it wouldn't be far from my luck. Retracing my steps I reached the hotel and walked inside. Several people were waiting in line for a room and I hurried around them, still feeling my teeth with my tongue to make absolutely sure they hadn't moved. I needed a mirror. I needed a meal. I needed a nap!

Not bothering to wait for an elevator I climbed the stairs and turned the key in the lock. Inside Stelle sat on the chaise lounge, a spread of photos sitting before her. "Oh, you're back," she said barely glancing at me. "Get your kicks?"

I set my newspaper on top of my notebook and set the key on the counter. Feeling my pockets for my money I headed for the bathroom. "I guess so," I said and checked the mirror.

Perfectly straight, all twenty four of them. My heart raced and I let out a sigh of relief. Although I needed a good floss. There was sugar everywhere! 

"Stelle?" I asked. She rifled through some more photos, rearranging the order. 

"Yeah."

"Do you have any floss I can borrow?" I asked. 

"In my bag," she said nodding toward her suitcase. I turned to get it when she crossed her legs and set her photos down. "There's another party tomorrow." That got my attention. "This one is a bit more intimate, it's going to be at someone's hotel room." I found the floss and waited for her to finish, my heart racing. "Band, road crew....photographers, journalists..." I beamed as she gestured to ourselves. Stelle shrugged. "And since you're a groupie I'm sure they'll love to have you around."

I swallowed. 

"I have enough concert photos, you and I will just skip it!" Stelle, with a growing smile on her face tossed up a handful of photographs, letting them fall to the floor. "Parties are much more exciting anyway, don't you think?"

I took my floss to the bathroom with me and jumped in excitement. This was my chance! Another party! I'd stay up for this one, I promised myself. I'd take down notes, I'd see the boys in their most human states! Not just idols onstage showing off their godlike talents. But real human men who just liked to have fun in their downtime. 

That's what I was here for. 

And I'd make the most of it.