"Hi."
"Great music."
"Great music!"
"Wanna dance?"
"Sure."
"Wow!"
"What?"
"You're a great dancer. Is this, is that what you do?"
"That's what I do."
"Wow."
"Yeah."
Going to the clubs. Picking up a guy to dance with, having a short and small conversation, and then later taking him back to his place or your place or anyone's place to have sex with... the stories were true and it was like riding a bike -- it came right back to you.
I'd had a few beers and found myself at a hot dance place on Santa Monica Boulevard. I'd worn the "outfit:" white t-shirt, black work boots, jeans and no cologne. I felt like being obvious.
Found myself in a rage.
Dancing with this guy that looked like a younger Lorenzo Lamas, tattoos and all. This guy was very hot -- but "dumb as a box of hair" as my gramma used to say. Hell, I didn't care. Actually, I appreciated it.
I moved in real close and grabbed him-- kissed him hard on the mouth, pushing my tongue into him, "You're gorgeous, darlin'" and kissed him again.
He was turned on by my aggressiveness. Good, I thought, that'll come in handy in about twenty minutes. I kissed him again-- and this time he kissed me back. We were getting looks from guys. And comments like, "you go, girls!"
We left.
We were practically naked when we finished our horizontal dance and another began. He moved in real close and chewed on my neck. Just like Eric does, I thought. That sobered me up so I quickly went and got us some more beers from his fridge. No Cabernet tonight -- no Cabernet, no love, no commitment, no Eric.
Tonight was my night and I was gonna have a blast.
"You don't have to go," he said as I put on my socks. Already I had the beginning of a hangover. I smiled. He was kinda sweet, this guy.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Danny. And really, you don't have to go. Stay the night if you want. He deserves it."
"He?"
"Your husband, dummy. I saw the tan-line where your ring usually is... I'm not as dumb as you think."
"You're right." I finished getting dressed. "This was great," I said with as much commitment as I could muster. He just smiled because he knew. He knew he'd never see me again. I wanted out.
So I left.
I stopped at a 24 hour hot dog joint to get some food, ate it and crawled into the den sofa bed at about 5 in the morning -- wow, this was the life.
