Rolex Romance

Moist

When Karen and Lydia drunkenly dared me to dance with the handsome stranger across the bar I reluctantly agreed with my forehead sweating. I don't do well with confrontation or social interaction, one could say I am a home body and be completely correct. These two girls drag me to the club every Saturday night in hopes of mending together a social life for me. It's helpless.

Karen was the most beautiful girl of our class. She had long strawberry blonde hair that was not seen before at our small school. Her eyes were a piercing bright green that lit her freckled face. I was nothing next to her. Lydia was a blonde Bronx Barbie, enough said. I was myself, plain Karenina with poop brown hair and blue eyes. There was no distinctive feature I possessed or unique trait I harbored. If you asked a hundred people who I was ten would say kind, ten would say intelligent, and eighty would ask who is she (a few might even ask if I was the one who always let them copy notes) ?

I hated the moist, uncomfortable clubs where drunk blondes who stagger and brunettes who heave until their highlights drowned out. The earth shaking bass and deafening stereo system made me dizzy and the smell of alcohol nearly made me throw up. One of the best things you can remember while clubbing is to stay out of the shadows (never forget the buddy system or to carry the handy pepper spray). Included within the limitation of shadows are dark halls, bathrooms, allies, or abandoned rooms. Nothing good ever happens in the shadows or after eleven o'clock (thanks grandma).

Now my earlier reference to the dare, every week that I went with the girls out clubbing each of them completed a dare. Before this week there were six of us (an even for the buddy system). The five weeks we went they each had a single cycle and completed it. Well this fateful week, one had a bio exam that Monday, another had a family event, and the third had mono. It was down to Karen, Lydia, and myself. Now it was my dare.

Karen had to go to third base with the bartender, which I tried to burn out of my memory, and Lydia had to pickpocket three married men to tell their wives where their husbands were and with whom. It was awful but I finally fit in with these five. Not only were they understanding and kind, but they were my sorority sisters.

So there I sat in a short red dress and pumps uncomfortable, sweaty, and anxious. Even sitting I kept pulling the hem so it would almost reach my awkwardly white knees. Each girl was on one side of me giggling as they sorted through a modest list of dates. They offered to keep it PG-13 for my first time but that was sealed with a tipsy wink. My legs began to stick to the faux black leather that had lord knows what on it when they nodded in agreement. I just wanted to fade into the sticky air quietly.

"See that weird blonde in the corner ? The one with the sideburns and the Metallica shirt ?" Karen's voice shrieked in excitement. My heart slowly sank into agony as my eyes fell onto the clumsy guy. His shoes had more holes then his jeans and his beard hadn't been washed in weeks by the look. I didn't want to judge his character or presume, but it was difficult not to, he didn't even try with himself.

"You're going to grind on him and then tell him you'll meet him in the bathroom." Lydia finished in giggles and I nearly threw up on her silver dress. This is why I don't do social situations.

"I don't have to meet him in a stall do I ?" My voice was loud but shaky.

"No of course not !" I breathed with Lydia's answer. Thank the good lord.

"You have half an hour to charm !" Karen added and shooed me over to him. I tripped over a foot but caught myself with a cold metal chair. Young girls in tight clothes were laughing and men in suits had a tan line around their ring fingers. I tried to not look horrified as I approached the creep-I mean the  blonde male. He was turned to the side facing the crowd as he dances solo but a short distance from him his group stood awkwardly. I could tell by the way they were all dressed similarly. I modestly pulled my dress down and plastered the best attitude I could manage across my face. My hand snakes up his shoulder  but stops at his dread locks. His attention turns to me and he grins.