Sometimes, my life tends to take on the feel of an episode of ‘Shameless’. These are the opening scenes:
I think that it was early January. It was still bitterly cold outside & any evenings out – even those where heavy drinking occurred – required a warm jacket.
A drink with two of my loveliest girlfriends started off in the usual fashion & at the usual bar. My legs were on show, but the weather begged I wore a little more on top as well as some sheer tights – minimalist protection against the freeze.
We were, of course, drinking cocktails – I’m sure I was on ‘Love on the Rocks’ but I might just be being fanciful now – when a colleague of one of my girlfriends joined us, along with two of his friends – both strangers to we three. One of these strangers was probably our age, quiet & I noted his moderate good-looks. Stranger number two seemed younger, also fairly quiet & I noted the dark circles beneath his eyes – a sure sign that he preferred to smoke something a little stronger than tobacco.
The night wore on, the drink flowed & our groups seemed to drift to different bars together & then eventually to the disco with the stickiest floors, cheapest drinks & best music in town.
The boys had a table whilst the girls danced. The boys imbibed a little more & soon they were teetering on the edge of being well-oiled enough to join us. It was at this point that someone informed me that Stranger Number Two did not know how to dance. I took this claim in earnest & with no other purpose than considering myself to be the dancing queen & spotting an opportunity to show off I dragged Stranger Number Two to the floor & began to instruct.
It was only as he pulled me close, hands wandering, that I realised the Stranger Number Two was actually not as clueless in the field of dance as had been made out. His friends’ motives were plainly ulterior ones.
It wasn’t like me not to realise that something such as this may occur but this was not anticipated. It was pleasant though.
‘Excellent.’ Thought I.
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