METANOIA

COCKTAIL

"A barbershop?"

When Misha said, "This is the place," the guys assumed he was joking about the fact all three of them could obviously use a shave. They were standing in front of a tiny barbershop called "The Rusty Barber," hardly an appealing name for a barber. There was two punk looking guys standing there that looked more like junkies than barbers. There was only one barber's chair inside the tiny barber shop, which looked pretty old and worn down. The place had more archaic switch blades and rusty razors than any real scissors or clippers lined up along the walls. It was when Misha walked in that the two began to really worry.

Misha shook hands with one of the two guys and introduced them. The taller of the two, who looked more Emo, stamped their hands. Pete and Silas were royally confused by this point, so when the guy then pushed the entire back wall aside to let them inside the hidden bar, they were literally gob-smacked.

The Rusty Barber was a bar that paid homage to the secret underground bars of the Prohibition era. The place had a rustic feel, but the bar and the music were quite modern. It was also packed: the crowd was tight, and the guy-girl ratio looked good for our single duo. There was a crazy cocktail list and a good selection of imported liquor. Needless to say, the majority of the people inside were not unattractive.

Misha turned to the other two, "So guys, there is this girl, Samia, I made out with a few days ago. She's half Egyptian or something, and I am not really, totally sure what she looks like, though... I was pretty wasted. I think she looked ok." They smiled at Misha's antics. "Anyway, I texted her, and she's coming here with at least two other girls. I remember the one friend was hot, and since that's not Pete's cup of tea, Pete here is not gonna do much, I presume." Pete rolled his eyes at this, "So, you're on!" Misha said to Silas. "I want to give my brother a warm New Yorker welcome," he added, winking.

They had already knocked back a few more drinks down by the time Samia arrived. Silas was genuinely surprised at his tolerance; although he could feel the alcohol in his system, it would be a stretch to say he was tipsy. He had half expected to be hugging a toilet seat by that point.

Misha saw Samia at the other end of the bar, and he recognized her. She nodded back at him in acknowledgment. The Barber was packed, so it was hard for them to get to her. The two parties remained on the opposite sides of the bar, despite having made constant eye contact. Misha gave his beer to Silas and told the guys to wait for him, and then disappeared into the lively crowd.

Pete was dancing minimalistically, "I fucking love this place, man."

Silas said, "This was a great place to start the night. I missed this."

Pete asked, "Why? You don't go out anymore?"

Silas pointed to the healing cut on his lip. "This place is nothing like the bars I go to." He had not enjoyed being at a bar in a long time. He would rather sit at home and work for hours. A night out never seemed to end well.

Misha came back alone, frowning, and he waited until he was certain they were disappointed, and then toyed with them: "They're here, but there aren't two other girls with her;" he paused for a bit to see the letdown, "There are four!"

Silas handed Misha his beer back, and the three guys toasted. The girls still didn't come for another minute or so, and Silas became a little agitated. "Should we go over there?"

Misha smiled at him, "Things are a little different in New York, Brother. If you know what you're doing, girls come to you..." Just as he said that the girls arrived beside them. Misha winked:

"Welcome to New York!"

There was a Middle Eastern looking girl Misha pointed out as Samia. She was petite and not bad looking, but right off the bat, something in her eyes was off-putting. With her, there were four other girls; a larger brunette whose thumb seemed to be the fastest appendage on her body as she tapped on her cell phone with a rapidity that was rather mesmerizing, a shorter one who was a bit of a hippie, and then two blonde sisters - one of whom was a party girl, and undeniably attractive while the other was her surprisingly ugly sister. Henceforth, the guys remembered them only by their physical descriptions as they reduced the girls to stereotypes already.

Misha's lady friend, Samia, introduced herself to the rest of the group, "Hi, I'm Samia."

Silas leaned in to hear what she was saying. From up close, he could swear she stank, but he wasn't certain if it was her body odor or her breath. Still, he was sufficiently intoxicated by that point to overlook it and, thankfully, was not drunk enough to mention it. Pete seemed to think the same thing from the slight grimace he made. Silas caught it, but Samia didn't.

Silas said, "I'm Silas, and this is Peter."

Pete added, "Pete is fine."

Samia said, "Hello to both of you." She looked like she wanted Misha to say his name as well, but didn't press. Defeated, she said, "These are my friends..."

And they embarked on binge drinking as a single unit.

In an ideal world, the night would probably have ended in the pelvis clapping frenzy the boys intended, but both parties soon reached that horrible threshold of being too drunk to start anything.

From the start, the other girls clearly were not interested in getting to know the boys who, in turn, were more intrigued by the bar than they were by the girls. Misha was a man of action, on the other hand, and it wasn't too long before his face melded into one with Samia's for what seemed like an eternity for the rest of the group. Samia was the only one who seemed to enjoy the company, pole dancing Misha with little concern for the rest of the group.

The group tried a few ice breakers, but there was an apparent discrepancy between the topics that interested them. The two guys' lack of knowledge about the New York scene or celebrity gossip was apparent instantly, and the girls certainly didn't want to talk about work, or literature or any other subject the remaining two guys talked about. It wasn't that the girls weren't interested, nor were they not knowledgeable, but rather it wasn't the sort of conversation they wanted to have in a bar. Finding no common ground, they resorted to drinking more as a refuge from what seemed to be an unsuccessful encounter.

Around them, the innocent social frolicking in the bar morphed as faces and bodies leaned into one another. The bouncers were busy throwing out those who overstepped the line. The lustful spirit of the bar stole from body to body as inhibitions are lowered, and movements slowed, and sensual gestures reigned. If PDA sounds like a legitimate adjective to you, it really shouldn't.

About a half hour into their face-eating contest and two pints of beer, nature finally caught up with Misha, and he announced, "I need to go to the toilet."

He gave Samia his drink to hold and kissed her one last time before he left to relieve himself. Silas was sure Samia didn't even know Misha's name. His departure was almost a cue for Samia to reveal her true nature. As soon as he left, Samia locked her gaze on Silas and waddled toward him. She started dancing with him, innocently at first. Silas reciprocated in a friendly manner. He spun around when she started grinding aggressively on him, a little too hard. Then, she gave both of the drinks to Silas to hold. Silas didn't think much of this, so he took the two mugs by the handles with his free hand, which is when she slid her hand inside his pants...

And inside his boxers.

With both his hands occupied, Silas was helpless. He pushed her away with his body, and spilled half of the drinks in the process, "WHAT THE FUCK?"

Pete saw this happen, but the other girls seemed not to notice it. Samia just giggled and turned around to grind her backside on him, but Silas stepped away from her. Silas gave Pete a look that said, "What just happened?" Pete too was completely perturbed by the situation. He didn't want to say anything as the moment seemed surreal to him. Thankfully, Misha returned, and Samia pretended nothing happened.

Misha took the drink back from Silas and said, "Did you drink from this?"

Silas was trying to muster a reply when Samia slid between them, completely overpowering Misha's attention. Pete and Silas stared at her in disbelief as she shot her tongue down Misha's throat. For a second, Silas and Pete wanted to warn Misha of what had just happened, but being drunk and stupefied, they were uncertain how to approach the situation. The proper moment to respond passed as the alcohol in their system peaked, and within minutes, they had forgotten about it.

Bored with each other's company, it wasn't long before the rest of the group decided to go bar hopping. The lovers agreed reluctantly.