I step out of the silver taxi, feeling a little cold drizzle on my bare shoulders. The black clouds rumble and the evening gets a little dark. I adjust my short, tight, one-handed, orange bandage dress, then throw my black leather jacket on my shoulder and walk into the crowded bar, confidently in my silver heels. The vibe is the bar, the people and the culture. Sauti-sol plays on the DJ’s desk and the dance floor becomes a fine stage upon which the patrons press play and let their lives go 5K HD. I find my way between the crowd of sweaty drunk people, different perfumes and sit at the bar counter. “Brandon hey, two rounds of tequila, served neat please.” He smiles and nods and quickly reaches out to a shot glass. That’s how I get the night started.
They say that being drunk is the fool’s anesthetic. That it puts the primitive self in command when it is the worst captain of all. Well tonight I am ready to be a fool, and definitely put the primitive self, captain. I quickly jolt down the two tequila shots and order for few beers. It has been a long day at work, I just want to be free from all thoughts that are work related, heck if I see someone from work here, I would ignore them like those Bible quotes everyone ignores on their insta timelines. Ha-ha…
As the night slowly creeps in, accompanied by some rain, the inside of the bar gets warmer, with patrons coming in, some in couples, some in singles, some in groups, all stepping into the shaded room that opens their eyes all the wider, seeing all the muted colors of the bottles and the glitter that finds every spark of light. After four beers and four shots of tequila, I melt into the dance floor, then become the vibe, moving around as easily as the smoke from the hookahs. I soak in the laughter and the smiles, and dance upon each octave in microscopic disco shoes. Then I see him…
He is the kind of handsome that gets into my bones, that speaks to me in olden times before he even says a word. People often speak of the color of eyes, as if that were important, yet his are beautiful in any shade. It is how his lips move, when he sips from his whisky glass, and laughs with his friends. How his hands follow the curves of his shoulders down to his perfect torso. He has the kind of face that stops you in your tracks. I guess his used to that sudden pause in a person’s natural expression when they look his way, followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile.
We hold our gaze for a few seconds, and I make my way back to my seat, blaming those few seconds on the tequila. He stands from his table and makes his way to where I’m sitting, the gorgeous man stands close to me. I become nervous. He orders two shots of tequila, served neat. Brandon pours two and he picks his tiny glass, and hands me the other. “My friends and I were craving for your company at our table,” he says. He is handsome from the depths of his eyes to the gentle expression of his voice.
The bar gets more crowded, more people trickle in as some leave to beat the curfew. I am now part of a group of six men, all ogling, smiling and some seeking attention through small talk. As the night comes to an almost close, he puts his arm across my shoulders. Good sign right… I have always been a rough stone, shaped by challenging times, I mean that is why I was here alone, by the counter. I had been dubbed ‘Medusa’ at work. Yes, the Greek monstrous goddess described as winged with living venomous snakes in place of hair. Those who gazed into Medusa’s eyes turned into stone. Sarcastic. However, what the people at work don’t know is that behind the rough texture, there was an external gentleness, a story of weathering and challenging times met with patient and stoic grit. I was a woman, chasing careers, big dreams with all the harness that came with it, but tonight all I needed was love.
He opens the door to his apartment and we fall inside, both drunk and laughing. He helps with my shoes, then my dress, he removes his shoes, shirt and unbuckles his belt and playfully carries me to his living room, by the sofa…I glimpse on the huge transparent glass door, a cold night, a lucid moon, heaven’s eyes shine in the black as a divine watchful mother…I’m getting love tonight…
THE END
Ps: I have changed my Blog's name. Welcome to Asumpta's Tales of a Vicenarian(20s) blog. A vicenarian is a term used to refer to 20 year olds. So until we get to 30 then we can change the blog's name. We are here to try everything...thank you.