“What a great 21st birthday this is,” I mumbled to myself. The music was too loud, there were too many people and all the women in this club were skinnier and better looking than me. I sat solemnly at the bar with my legs crossed, my black skirt riding up. At one point I remember possibly having a friend with me, but at this point I was too drunk to remember and too drunk to care. “Another tequila on the rocks,” I hissed at the bar tender. He was obviously intimidated by me, I mean I probably was at least three inches taller and forty pounds heavier than he was. He quietly slid the the drink into my hand and scuttered away to the other side of the room where the people were friendlier and less brutally sarcastic. I crained my neck to scan the room for men drunk or insecure enough to come home with me. Just my luck, I accidentally made eye contact with a man twice my age with a quickly receding hairline to match. He was wearing a skin tight nearly see through t- shirt that was not as flattering as he believed. He began strutting across the crowded dance floor and made his way uncomfortable close to me.
“Hey there, sweet thang,” he predatoraly annunciatated.
“Not interested,” my gaze shot down to my drink.
“Come on, baby girl I don’t bite,” he put his elbow down on the bar and winked.
I scoffed. I tried to make eye contact with the bouncer so he could get me a send a little help my way. I ignored the creep as he inched closer to me, placing his hand on my thigh. He brought his poorly shaven face closer to mine as his uncomfortably warm breath harassed my face. I gazed at the bouncer by the door but he didn’t seem to notice me; he was facing the other way flirting with this twig bitch across the dance floor.
His fingers slowly crept up my thigh, and due to my spaghetti arms, I knew I wouldn’t be able to use brute force to get him away.
“Please just go away,” the fear began to grow in my voice. I trembled.
“Come on sweetie, we’re just gonna have a little fun.” His finger began to pull at the elastic waistband of my skirt.
My life flashed. I couldn’t stop what was happening. I was in shock. I was confused. I shut my eyes.
Suddenly the fingers dropped from my leg quickly. A gust of wind. I looked down. Under my bar stool laid the unfortunate looking man laid.
“She said ‘Back off’, you twat.” I saw brown velvet shoes on the floor as I began to take my time scanning the figure before me. Long black skinny jeans, thin legs, white t-shirt under a blue blazer on a long torso, his sleeves rolled up revealing his muscular fore arms followed by a long neck with a thin layer of stubble. Then his face. His gorgeous face. He had a thin face with a long nose, but not too long. Plump lips. Round eyes, green, like the color of a the first leaves to bloom in the spring. His eyes had this sparkle, this innocent sparkle. His hair though. It was brown like a kitten. It had this texture that you could run your fingers through for hours, with droopy curls.
I stared at his face for about ten seconds without saying anything. He had this dopey grin on his face, but at the same time is was charming, suave. He laughed at my astonishment. His laugh was smooth and refreshing.
“Oh oh my god I’m so sorry you just have a really nice face.” I spit out.
He laughed again.
“Oh um that’s really uncomfortable I just mean you’re really handsome. Wait um that’s not right you’re ju-“
“Don’t hurt yourself,” he grinned.
