The day began nice enough. Hugo called.
"Does your friend the dancer want to work tonight?"
"I could ask. Why?"
"Our Baby New Year has the kissing sickness. Call your want-to-be- squeeze and find out. Tell him there's pay."
"Hell no! I ain't working that cheap."
I called Hugo back and told him the news.
"Tell that prima donna we'll double the wage."
"Okay."
"Double?"
"That's what Hugo said."
"Okay, I'll do it."
I was finally going to see Mike dance. This was going to be a great party.
Fran and I arrived late, not fashionably late, but late.
We entered and made our way to the bar.
$1.00 drinks.
We had quite a few.
"You lied to me; I don't see any women," Fran said. "I want to go home."
"What's that over there?" I pointed to a woman, sitting by herself. She looked like sheâd dipped into the New Yearâs punch once too often.
"Oh gee. Definitely my type," she said.
Andrew came up to us.
"You guys seen Eric?"
"Nope," we said.
I stood. "I'll help you find him. Fran's too busy making goo-goo eyes to be any help."
"What did you say?" asked Fran. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention."
Andrew and I left.
I lost Andrew in the crowd. Fran was missing, too. She must have found some of her own kind
I went back to the bar, ordered another drink, a couple more and then a couple more, until you could have hit me in the head with a bat and I wouldn't have felt a thing.
It was midnight and Mike came out on stage. I looked at him dancing, everybody kissing and knew he was the one I wanted to kiss.
Some jumped on stage, trying to strip. I did the same. I went to kiss Mike, tripped and fell.
The only thing I kissed that night was the floor.
