Our first heartbreak is the one that imprints on us, helps us grow in all future relationships, good or bad. Unless the bad took you for a loop that never seemed to stop spinning, spun lies in a web that never stopped growing. Then all of your relat...
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Top Shots was winding down, the last of the Broncos crowd cheering into the night. I took a lap around the bar to make sure there were no bathroom or back room stragglers before locking up. Sasha was cleaning and polishing the last of the glassware left from last call as I wiped down all the tables.
"Jade, are you doing anything fun tonight?" Sasha questioned with a knowing smile, stacking shot glasses into the little dishwasher. She was always trying to get me to go out with her, but it wasn't really my scene. It was great to work at a bar (great tips from drunk guys, especially after their team wins a game), but not so great to hang out at one. Everyone is sweating and dancing and grinding. The music is so loud you have to shout in someone's ear for them to even slightly hear you. Oh, and pretty much every guy is a creep.
"I'm going home, opening a bottle of pinot, and writing my blog," I sighed, hoping to excuse myself from any plans while making her think my distress was genuine. "What are you up to?"
With a clap of her well-manicured hands, Sasha began to explain her evening agenda. "Girl, it is ladies night down the street, 5 free drinks to any hottie through the door. Please save that Pinot for another night and go with me. Without you, I get straight swarmed by a million creeps, and your mean face makes them scatter." There was a big-hearted southern smile on her face that always melted me into pieces.
Sasha and I met when we started Top Shots. We were in the same orientation meeting and Sasha more or less adopted me. At this point, we had known each other for about two years, and I knew that even though Sasha had worked damn hard to get rid of her Southern side, it still creeped out when she got too emotional. That was why it always got to me because I knew that she actually wanted me there at these times and knew I was lying.
I had to relent. "Only like an hour or two. I really do want to work on my Blog."
Sasha squealed and scurried to finish as much closing work as she could. With the bar cleaned, we waved good-night to our manager and hurried down the street. There was already a line outside Sasha's favorite night-club, The Cowboy, but she walked up to the bouncer, giving him a great view of her chest and ass. It was hard to resist her. She was 5'2" with bouncy red beach curls. Her lips and eyes took up most of her face and she had curves for days. I wouldn't complain about my looks though. Tall, blonde, and a size 3 I didn't often get looked over. I just often wasn't looking back.
The bouncer waved us in and handed us each five tickets for drinks.
We walked over to the first-floor bar and grabbed two tequila shots each. I needed a major buzz if I was going to pretend to have fun.
"Cheers to a fun night out," Sasha exclaimed with a huge smile.
I rolled my eyes but relented. "Cheers." We raised our shots and clinked to our girls night, a bit of tequila splashing on my hand. My face puckered as I downed each shot, but I could already feel my blood warming and my inhibitions dropping. When Sasha pulled me onto the crowded dance floor I didn't even argue.
