As the sun set, I had determined my destination for the night.
Brewskis.
I didn’t know anything about the place’s current reputation. When I had first left Springsville, it had an image of being a bit of a dive bar’s dive bar, the place where the seedy and the underbelly of society came to conglomerate. It wasn’t the place you went to get shot, but it wasn’t the place you typically took first dates to, either. Of course, that didn’t stop some, but invariably, those relationships weren’t always the most stable.But, hey, who am I to speak about stability?
I had already gotten the party started at my place by getting a bottle of vodka at a nearby store. I only took two shots, just enough that I would be social with whomever I encountered there but not so much that I would put myself in a compromised position. I knew I shouldn’t have spent the money on the bottle, but not like I needed to save it for anything special or the future. Right?
With the alcohol in my system, I ended up texting LeCharles again, although I really didn’t put any thought into the idea that he would actually show up. I just figured that if he wanted to make an evening of it, he’d know where I was. And if he didn’t, well, someday maybe he’d change his number and I’d get a notice that someone else had that number now.
I should have hailed an Uber, but with money tight enough as it is, I made the probably stupid decision to just drive there. I’d only had two drinks, and it wasn’t like Brewskis was down the 101 or some other major Los Angeles freeway. It was less than a ten-minute drive. I grabbed my keys, my wallet, and my phone, and then bent down to kiss Shiloh, who made no bones about his displeasure with me leaving.
“I know, Shiloh, I know,” I said. “But Rose has got to make some bad decisions and have fun tonight. After the day she’s had, she’s gotta have a little something, right?”
Shiloh just kept whimpering. It wasn’t wrong to wonder who had more sense, the dog or me. It definitely wasn’t wrong to lean toward the dog.
When I stood up, I felt myself swaying a bit. I knew right then I really shouldn’t get behind the wheel. I needed to stay home or take a cab.
Alas, what I needed to do and what I wanted to do were two very different things, and right now, what I wanted was winning out over what I needed to do.
I walked out of the house, got behind the steering wheel, and took a deep breath. I was buzzed, but I wasn’t hammered. If I focused with all of my willpower on the road, I would be fine.I think.
Fortunately, on the road to Brewskis, I had a two-lane road, making it that much less probable I would hit an oncoming car. It was kind of fucked up that I was thinking about the probabilities of that, but what could I say? Sorry? Not a chance.
When I arrived at Brewskis—feeling mighty confident that I had driven just fine and was without risk—I parked my car in the dirt lot next to it. I looked around and noticed that much of the construction that was happening around the bar had seemed to fall into disarray, almost like projects had started and then just been abandoned halfway through. In some twisted way, I just figured that that fed into the idea of it being a dive bar. If it was going to be a little sketchy, might as well make it as sketchy a place as possible.
I stepped into the bar, and I noticed one thing immediately.
Besides the bartender, a woman with spiked pink hair, there were no other women here.
There were two dudes at the bar, wearing sleeveless jackets—though I did not recognize their logo—laughing loudly to each other and patting each other on the shoulder. In the rear, two more dudes were playing a game of pool. One dude was sitting in the way back, smoking a cigar, watching the scene unfold with what looked like bemused detachment.
It was of absolutely no surprise to me, then, that the instant I, a woman, walked into this room, literally every pair of eyes fell on me.This is what you wanted, right? You wanted to make a bad choice? What more could you ask for?
A whole lot more that wouldn’t leave me wondering what this is going to turn into.
Just looking at these men unsettled me. Even though LeCharles and Brian had worn the same type of clothing, they had a presence to them that said theycouldbe monsters but weren’t. The presence here suggested the men here would be monsters.
I walked up to the bar as casually as I could, even though such a thing was damn near impossible in these given circumstances. The bartender came up to me, and her first question to me should have told me everything I needed to know about the environment here.
“Are you lost?” she asked. “I can help you wherever you need to go.”
“No, I’m not,” I said, although I was beginning to think it probably would have been better if I had been. “I... this is Brewskis, right?”
“Yeah,” the woman said, sounding almost apologetic. “You’re sure you’re in the right spot? Are you waiting on anyone?”
I shook my head. The bartender looked around at the room, and I followed her gaze. The two other guys at the bar were eying me and talking about me in rather unapologetic terms.
“Just be careful,” she said. “I’ll make all the drinks here, but the minute you feel uncomfortable, you let me know.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, but I hated myself for saying that. The bartender wasn’t trying to cockblock the other dudes, she genuinely cared about me. And here I was, pushing her away, all in the name of supposedly enjoying myself.
It reminded me of how the whole damn spiral had started for me in the first place. LeCharles would try and offer me help, would offer his presence, but I refused. Instead of responding to his offer with dignity and grace, I reacted aggressively. I put myself in a progressively worse and worse spot, and now history was repeating itself.
Maybe I did need to get the fuck out of here.
Or...
Maybe I just needed to have some fun and see what happened. After all, LeCharles was having his fun. Why the hell could I not do the same?
