God & Sinner

4. Granting Strength

It hadn't been my idea to go out tonight. In fact, my week had seemed longer than usual, and if I'd had my way about it then I would've just stayed home and gotten drunk. What better way to spend the weekend, right? But friends had a way of being persuasive, and like my buddy had said, I could just as easily get drunk by going out with him and a few of the others. They were all about the night life, I guessed, and we didn't seem to really have that much in common. If we didn't work together, the chances of me spending any time around them was minimal, but that didn't mean we shared zero interests.

I watched them out on the floor, grinding up against various girls who ranged from looking violated to looking like they might drop their panties at any minute. None of that interested me—the girls, the club, the awful music blaring over the speakers. What did interest me was the line that my coworkers had left for me. I felt right in no time after I chopped it up and inhaled it. God it felt good to be young. For a second I even considered going to join them on the dance floor with my new burst of energy, but all the drugs in the world couldn't change my dislike for that. I did not dance.

Instead I continued to sit there, mulling my boredom over in my head as I leaned back and observed the shallow and fake crowd that surrounded me. They were mostly my age, and like me they all seemed to be pretty people. I liked pretty people; but I still didn't want to be here. Maybe my friends got something out of fondling unsuspecting ladies, and maybe the reason I felt out of place was because I didn't. I wasn't sure, but I felt a different kind of shallow as I continued to watch.

Shallow. Barely full. Empty, really. This definitely wasn't my scene, and I considered leaving. I'd already gotten a bump, and the only thing that still kept me there was the knowledge that if I did stay, I might score another one. Not like I was an addict, but that seemed to be enough incentive to continue suffering. One of my buddies smiled at me over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows like he thought he might get lucky with the girl he was pressed up against. She looked like the type. Good for him, I gave him a thumbs up and let my attention wander, panning across the room.

It wasn't like I was particularly interested or anything, but off to the far side, closer to the corner, were three men that seemed to be in a heated discussion. The only thing that came across as strange to me was that the guy in the middle looked uncomfortable, and he was much smaller than the other two. They seemed like they lived in the gym and probably took steroids, but he was thinner and frail. Still, they guarded him on either side, filthy grins on their faces while they said what I could only guess were nasty and vulgar things. The smaller man didn't seem to be into it at all, and he kept trying to move away from them.

But they wouldn't take rejection, and they moved like sharks after him, continuing to circle where they smelled blood. They took turns feeling him up, and for a while he actually stood there and took it. Finally the meatheads got too grabby for even him and he retaliated, shoving the one. Of course, he wasn't very strong, so no real harm was done. At least, not physically. But that must've hurt the shark's ego, and he shoved the little minnow back, hard enough to send him to the floor. Then they looked around, seeing if anyone noticed.

Not that it mattered. In a place like this—this city and this club—that was the kind of thing that always happened, and even if there were witnesses, they minded their own business and kept to themselves. The predators acknowledged that, and then they grabbed their prey up and forced him towards the back exit while he resisted. Naturally he was ineffective against their strength, and in only a minute they had disappeared to the alley. There was no telling what they would do to him back there—beat him senseless for bruising their pride, or take what they wanted from him anyway—but I was only a witness, and after all it wasn't like it was any of my business.