Night Club

By em0tionalprayer

For lack of a better title I just call this short story night club. Very rough but I think it turned out well, even though it was written years ago.

A busy night club, crowded with people, the hunters and the hunted of human sexuality. Dancing, grinding, drinking, and awaiting that offer for the inevitable one-night-stand that gives the only purpose for being enclosed in such a place. The point to this seemingly pointless waiting? None really, well, unless you count the urge to quench the thirst of having something raw and meaningless to hold on to.

While in a club like this there wasn’t much that could be deemed as ‘unexpected’. People enjoying the company of others while engaging in pleasant conversation (otherwise known as ‘freaking’ and ‘making whoppie’). No sight was surprising, except for the one in a dark corner of the club.

A young woman in a tight red skirt that hardly reached her mid-thigh seemed to be the only one to notice the peculiar dark haired man in the corner of the room. Checking her lipstick and closing the hand-held mirror with a snap, she made her way through the smoky crowds.

Sitting alone in a corner booth, reading Stephen King’s “Cujo”, the man didn’t look up when the woman approached his table.

“Who the hell comes into a night club to read?” she asked in a cold tone.

“Well,” our lone wolf began, “we can’t all have the professional whore’s handbook to fall back on when choosing our activities.”

A moments pause occurred between our players, the woman mumbled something under her breath as she took a seat in the mans booth.

“What was that?” our hero asked, never diverting his eyes from his reading.

“I said, you are an asshole.” she retorted in a much louder much harsher tone.

More awkward silence exchanged between the man and the woman. She fiddled annoyingly with the straw in her drink.

“Do you have to do that?” he asked calmly.

“Do you have to be so pig-headed?”

“Apparently so.” once again the silence returned.

“Damnit Justin! Talk to me!” she yelled, not even startling him.

Justin placed a cocktail napkin between the pages of his book as a marker. “If you wanted a conversation all you needed to do was ask.”

“Why the hell else would I sit here?” the woman asked in a huff.

“Mia, you’re my ex-girlfriend. Walking up to me in a public place such as this is a perfect opportunity for you to humiliate me.” he said crossing his arms.

“Now why would I ever want to humiliate you Justin?” she asked playfully causing him to roll his eyes.

“You always find some new way to cheapen me.”

“That was when we were still together.” Mia replied with a grin. “Remember Little Bo Peep?”

“ matter how hard I try to forget.”

“I still say you make a damn sexy sheep...” she chuckled.

“Do you know that still to this day if I am so much as a foot near anything wool, I break out in hives?” he asked wish a slightly sarcastic tone in his voice.

Mia couldn’t help but laugh.

“What happened to us Justin?”

“You dumped me for my sister.” Justin replied. His tone a serious one.

“No, you dumped me.”

“What’d you expect?” He couldn’t help but remember how he felt the day he came across his dutiful girlfriend and his little sister ‘fornicating’ on the couch of their apartment. His couch. He felt like he had walked into a porno, but rather then become instantly aroused, he vomited on the newly cleaned carpet. His carpet.

“You hold unnecessary grudges.” commented Mia.

Justin’s eyes widened.

“Unnecessary grudged?!” he shouted. Mia quickly turned with puzzled expression on her face due to his outburst.

“Yes.” she said simply. “That was ages ago. Move on.”

“It was last year” Justin sighed “And I have moved on.”

“Oh?” Mia chuckled “Show me proof. Justin shifted in his seat, rolling his eyes once again.

“Here we go again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” questioned Mia, who sat up into a perch position on the other side of the booth.

“You ask me this every time we see each other,” he sighed. “I have proof that I’ve moved on.”

“Where is she? What’s her name?” Mia probed.

“See? That’s your problem.” Justin commented, shaking his head.

“That I like to know the names of people?” Mia asked perplexed.

“No, to you, I need to be involved with a woman in order to be officially over you.”

“Right” she confirmed.

“Wrong.” replied Justin, he was beginning to become flustered. “Look at me! This is all the proof you need. I’m outside among people.”

“You’re in the corner of a stuffy club and I’d be hard-pressed to call some of these creatures ‘people’.” said Mia, she paused momentarily. “You are so still in love with me.” she added.

“Not that you’re full of yourself or anything.” he grumbled. “I’ll have you know I have had plenty of dates in the past year.”

“A continuing rendezvous with your left hand does not count as a date, let alone more then one.” she chuckled.

“First off, I’m right handed.” Mia rolled her eyes, “Secondly, I speak of real live women.” Mia raised an eyebrow.

“Nine hundred numbers...?”

“Internet.” Justin replied, smiling. Mia shook her head and sighed.

“You’re hopeless.”

“By this point, yes” countered Justin. He picked up his book, placed the napkin on the table and with a great grin on his lips, continued reading.

Mia sighed.

“I come to this place looking to hook up and maybe make something of the night and I end up stuck in a corner booth with my hopelessly neurotic ex-boyfriend.”

“Who’s reading ‘Cujo’.” Justin chimed in.

“Who’s reading ‘Cujo’.” Mia added. “Jesus, I hate the club scene.”

Night Club

Created: Jul 24, 2010

Tags: short story, text

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