Short Stories

A Saturday Night

It is Saturday and the friends Iris and Inês are going out. A shock to all that know them.

As they always do, this night out was scheduled weeks in advance, and by some miracle nothing has come to pass to stop them this time. Well...nothing except their own personalities. Will they beat that?

The friends decided to have dinner at home, since last time's plan to be out of the house at dinner, so they were not tempted back, ended with them back home by eleven thirty in the evening.

This author knows that until the last possible second the friends weren't certain they were leaving the house at all. After all, it's midnight already and they still haven't gotten dressed.

But alas they start to move.

Is it correct to say they went out Saturday if they left home at 1am? Perhaps not, but it is what it is. The bar they wanted to go to closed at 2am. Was it even worth it? They will soon find out.

Iris and Inês get in the uber, and the man is already shouting at the bus driver that was passing thru, like portuenses often do.

He gets the path wrong multiple times, or did he get it right and the GPS was wrong all along? What matters is that the friends got close enough to the bar safe and sound. They would walk the rest of the way.

The popular bar was located in a really narrow street and was crowded. For two antisocials such as these friends, was almost enough to turn them back. However, Inês wanted to try the pink shot she saw online.

They entered the bar and stand around awkwardly...they are not in their comfort zone. After exploring the place and more awkward standing they approach the bar. They have no idea what the name of the drink is or how to behave in these situations, but they are determined to persevere. Well, Inês was determined to persevere, Iris not so much.

A bartender notices them before they are mentally prepared but Inês leans in and tells him they want a shot, one with cream and sweet. And the bartender says, "the sweet one?" to which Inês nods. He then says a name, presumably the name of the drink but all Inês gets is that it starts with a B. That's nothing like what they had read online, wasn't it supposed to start with an F?...but she nods, just to avoid further interaction.

Iris is certain she's going to hate this drink, since she hates sweet things, and pink, but Inês is very insistent that they have to at least try. What are friends for except to suffer thru the unknown together?

The bartender arrives with their shots and miracle of all miracles it is the correct one. Sometimes a leap of faith takes you to the right place...or shot.

Iris asks Inês how they are supposed to drink it, since it has cream on top and Inês answers "theoretically you do it like a blowjob".

To which Iris promptly responds, "No. I'm not going to do that in this establishment.", which is fair.

So, they ate the cream first and downed the shot. It was sweet and tasted like cinnamon, except the final part which tasted like vodka. Inês hates vodka. Inês liked it except for the vodka, it probably won't become her new shot of choice. Iris didn't like it except for the vodka, but the biggest surprise was that she didn't hate it.

They decided to grab a drink for the road but since they don't really know drinks and the shot was already a Hail Mary, they settled for a bottle of Somersby and hightailed out of there.

Through the streets of Porto the friends went. They passed crowds of drunk young people singing loudly and dark streets, and thought about home, warm blankets and series they need to watch. Fortunately, their destination wasn't far, and the rain had heard their prayers and hadn't show since they left the house. The weather was, shockingly, pleasant.