Romance of the Plastic Scenes

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"Come on, the night's just begun!" he called after me. The door caught on his foot and he stood watching me, his arms outstretched. I continued to walk without looking back. He was right, the night was young, but I would spend it at another club, another bar, away from him. I wasn't quite sure where I was going but I needed to get away from him. I angrily walked, making sure my heels echoed on the sidewalk. The outside air was thin and cold, and I was beginning to wish I'd worn more layers, or maybe driven a car. The streets were busy, and people walked in every direction. I kept a straight walk, like I had some place to be and a short time to get there. It wasn't long before I saw the half operating, half blinking sign of a cheap bar up ahead. Outside stood drunken men with cigarettes in hand, talking loud and merrily. Was this really the kind of place I wanted to spend my Saturday night? I walked between the men and slipped inside the tavern.

It was dark and unaired. The thick air smelled of sweat and booze. I shook my head and walked to the counter. The bartender spun and looked me up and down. He grinned, a terrifying sideways grin, and rubbed his stubbled chin. I stepped back, into a man three times my size. He reeked of beer and urine. I smiled a forced smile and turned towards the door. I hurried my way out, between the groups of men and back onto the sidewalk. I took a sharp breath of the cold air, and wiped sweat from my forehead. I looked over my shoulder to see if any of the drunken men had been following me. That's when it happened. That's when I walked into him.

He stood just about 6 feet tall, though the hat he wore added more height. His hair was tangled and to his shoulders. He had sharp green eyes and prominent cheekbones. He caught me as I fell backwards and smiled a nervous smile. "I'm so sorry," he blurted out, his arm around my back. I stood back on my own feet and looked up at him. "Are you alright?" He asked me. It took a minute for me to register what had happened.

"Yes, I'm sorry," I told him. My face had gone red, and I looked to the ground. His hand slid from my back, as I was now standing on my own, and he took a step back.

"Don't be sorry." He said with a crooked smile. "Do you know of any bars that uh," he paused, "don't check ID?" he asked me, pointing to the sketchy pub I'd just forced my way out of.

"You absolutely do not want to go in there," I laughed. The large men among the doorway continued their cheerful chats. I pointed down the sidewalk, "there's a bar down that way, where I just told my boyfriend he could fuck himself, and about a mile down from there is -"

"Wait what?" He stopped me and chuckled. "Let's not go there."

It took my mind a second. Had he said "let's?" as in, the two of us go together? "Oh. Who are you going with?" I asked, stupidly.

"Well, uh." It seemed he hadn't gotten that far yet. "No one, yet. But I'd be honored if perhaps," he held out one hand, the other scratching the back of his head.

I took his hand. "Oh, why yes."

Now I know, going off with some guy I'd literally just run into on the street was not one of the brightest decisions I could've made, but there was something about him that made it feel okay. I walked close by his side, and admired every piece of him. I watched the way his arms would sway as he walked, I noticed the robe he wore flow behind him like a cape, and I listened to the click of his boots on the sidewalk. Now, I won't lie, he had an odd sense of fashion. His pointed boots had large brass buckles up the sides, and his tight fitting pants were too short for his long legs. He dressed in a long, tight black tank tops that had many rips and tears, and over it hung a loose fitting floral robe-like garment that was ripped at the shoulder. A dozen necklaces swung from his neck, and atop his head sat a large-brimmed hat, not unlike that of a pirate.

I followed as he walked me through the groups of upscale women who escaped the expensive Italian eateries, and passed the sinister looking men who piled outside the convenience stores. He was quiet, and seemed focused on the world around him, as if he were taking in every inch of the city. His mouth was open, as if he were in awe, but I looked ahead as if I hadn't noticed.

"This city is beautiful," he finally said.

"Well, I suppose, if you take away the people," I replied.

"If you take away the people, every place becomes beautiful."

I shut my mouth and thought. He was right. Humans were ugly, and without them, even the most hideous of places would be beautiful. As I went after him I thought of tall cities crumbling back to nature. I thought of moss taking over the half standing Empire State Building. Or only two letters of the Hollywood sign still upright. I saw in my mind trees rooted in the foundations of old suburban homes. A world without people.

He stopped in front of me, and looked up at a flashing sign over a crowded bar. I came back to reality just in time to avoid running into him a second time. He turned and looked at me., with a face that asked, "is this place good?" Truthfully, I'd never been inside, yet I nodded, as if to say, "we could give it a shot."

He smiled his sideways grin and walked towards the door. We were greeted by a dark room that smelled of liquor, and loud music that just barely covered the sound of clinking billiards balls. I sat next to him at the bar, and watched as he flagged down the bartender. He whispered something to the man. The bartender nodded and pulled two glasses off the wall behind him. Perhaps I could have seen what kind of drink he had prepared, had I not been mesmerized by the green-eyed prince beside me, but sooner than later a mystery drink sat before me. He took a large sip from his glass, and suddenly stood up, as if he'd been surprised. He visibly struggled to keep his drink from spewing out his mouth. He swallowed hard.

"I nearly forgot," he said, loudly, holding out his right hand. "I'm Emerson."

I took his hand in mine and smiled. "I'm Nicole," I replied.