I was about to argue that it was my boss who got us in here in the first place, but I would be having that argument with her back as she was already heading for the dance floor.
A few seconds later some guy was grinding up against her. A minute after that, it was another guy. I shook my head, realizing I was totally unprepared for that sort of close contact with drunk strangers.
If there was ever a time I was going to need a drink, it was tonight.
I made my way to the bar and squeezed in between two women who were actively flirting with guys on either side of them. I caught the bartender’s eye and ordered a bottle of beer.
Turning back to watch the dancing, I tried to take it all in. The pulsing beat of the music, the press of bodies and the smell of sweat.
Okay, pre-gaming made total sense to me now. This was not an environment for the sober.
While I sipped on my beer, I pulled my phone out. With my thumb, I shot off a text to E.G..
Me: Thank you
E.G.: Everything you hoped for?
Me: It’s really loud. And looks very sweaty.
E.G.: Sounds like what I remember. Stick with whatsherface and remember what I told you. Have fun.
Me: You’re abandoning me?
E.G.: ??
He was right. It was a stupid text. He’d purposely gone out of his way to get my name on the list so I could get in the club and have a good time. I was in my twenties. I had a new friend who I could join out there on the dance floor.
If I had a couple of shots of something, I might not actually mind having strange guys rub up against me.
No, I was probably still going to mind that.
It was just texting E.G., knowing he was out there in the universe a little worried about me, made me feel not so alone here. In this place I shouldn’t feel alone.
Me: Sorry. I’m being dumb. I’m going to go have all the fun.
E.G.: You know you don’t have to like it? You’re trying something new. But if you don’t like it, don’t force yourself because you think you should.
Me: Thanks.
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. That was good advice. It was just a night. If it wasn’t my thing, it wasn’t my thing.
I pushed my phone into my back pocket and took another sip of my beer.
An hour later I sent E.G. another text.
Me: Help!
SEVENTEEN
GRANT
His humiliation was made complete by a man named Derek.
I didn’t really stopto think about it. I saw the text asking for help, so I told her I was coming.
Ricky had the night off and I wasn’t waiting for an Uber at this hour.
I drove. If it was just me, I didn’t experience the kind of anxiety I did if there was someone else in the car. Case in point, I had a garage with three different cars. I grabbed a set of keys to one of them and hit the fob to show me which car I’d selected.
