A Drunen Tale

Grant didn't usually like the club scene. He didn't like the hormone-driven drunks dry-humping each other on the dance floor. He didn't like the smell of smoke assaulting his nose and his clothes. He didn't like the literal and metaphorical trash that surrounded him. But, on this night, he was dragged by his best friend for a little bachelor party fun.

Throughout this hellish night, sex-driven women had been blowing smoke in is face and up his ass. It's not that he was Mister Noble who never had a fling, but he didn't see the point of dealing with the hassle of bedding one of the many faceless women that approached him and then worrying about STDs the next day. Leaning against the bar, looking around, sipping his water, he was marveling at the amazing effects alcohol could produce. He was absolutely sure, however, that he was having the least fun in the whole joint.

Again looking around, he noticed something new. Someone who looked even more miserable than he. She sat in a corner, apparently unaware of the spilt whatever seeping into her dress. She almost looked sick.

She didn't seem to fit in and Grant assumed she was in a similar situation as his. She was decidedly cute, but undecidedly beautiful. She was wearing a delicate yellow sundress; not something someone would consider club clothes. Her long, brown hair could possibly be gorgeous if it weren't straggly and sweaty.

Grant drew his attention away from her to check on his buddies and upon looking back, his view was obstructed by the ass of a very scantily clad woman. Watching the interaction of the woman of his attention and the scantily clad one, he realized they must be friends as the latter pulled the former to the dance floor.

The girl began dancing and it was obvious to Grant that she wasn't sick or bored, but drunk and quite out of her wits. Her dance was more of a sway relying on other peoples' bodies to hold her up. Her friend began to point and clearly tried to get the girl to do something she did not seem willing to do.

Slowly the girl started edging towards the side of the room. Climbing up the smail staircase, she removed her sandals and stumbled towards the empty pole deck.

She found the pole, in an almost surprised manner, and looked around for approval. The men below her readily gave it and she began to dance. The dance was once again awkward and unpracticed, this time she was using the pole for balance instead of people. Her dance began to get more and more seductive as she was cheered on by the horny men. Though Grant definitely enjoyed this little display, he almost felt it was beneath her and it didn't seem fitting at all.

As if suddenly realizing what she was doing, she blushed heatedly and quickly ran off the stage leaving her sandals behind. Grant watched as she half ran, half stumbled to the ladies restroom. He chuckled to himself, and decided he wanted to step in.

Grant pushed his way to the stage and picked up her sandals. They were soaked with another spilt whatever, so he returned to the bar and dabbed them with a napkin. He then moved towards the bathroom to await the young girl.

Five minutes later, the bathroom door opened and out came the girl, holding onto the wall to steady herself.

"Hi there, may I offer you my arm, darlin'?"

The girl stopped, immediately put up a very visible guard and sized up her assailant. He was tall, dark and handsome, a dream for any girl who could hold herself upright but a nightmare right about now. She gave him a wry smile and declined his invitation. Moving past him, he called to her.

"I think it may be safer to wear these when walking in sludge."

As he held up the sandals the girl turned and realized they weren't on her feet where they should be. It's funny how things turn out when you are under the influence of a good bit of rum.

She reached out for them and as if on cue stumbled. However, not into the heroes arms but nearly on her face as Grant quickly leapt to grab her arm.

"Okay darlin', let me help you with these and then let's find you a seat," Grant said as she righted herself and like a child picked up one of her feet in preparation for the sandal.

"I'm not usually like this, I just, well..."

"What's that, hun?"

"This is my first club experience and I think I drank too much..."

Grant gave her his warmest smile and whole-heartedly agreed. He guided her upstairs to the less raucous area and sat her at a table. She was damn cute, and his protective instincts were in full swing.

"I didn't introduce myself earlier, my name's Grant. How did you manage to get yourself in this little predicament?"

"Huh? Oh, well, I am not normally a uh, 'clubber' but my sister dragged me insisting that I was missing out." She looked at Grant, and his bright green eyes were captivating. She realized she was staring and was temporarily glad she was drunk so she would have something to blame it on.

"I'm guessing your sister was the girl that got you on stage, eh?"

She blushed furiously. "You saw that, huh? Did I do alright?"

Grant laughed. "You did absolutely terribly, but it made my night. What's your name?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought I told you...or was that that other guy? Anyway, it's Mary."

"That other guy?" Grant responded in feigned pain, "My feelings are hurt. I thought what we had was special." They shared a laugh as Grant got to his feet. "I'm going to go get you some water and hopefully crackers with any luck."

Mary watched him as he walked away. She knew what guys at clubs wanted, she wasn't so naive as to suspect otherwise of this guy. But, he was amazingly charming, and quite a relief from the fast-moving men she had met so far. Christ, was he cute, too; dark hair and those glittering green eyes, tall and with a strong physique. But, most attractive of all was how he presented himself. He wasn't arrogant but he was confident. He didn't need approval but he got it anyway. Mary guessed he was affluent in the currency of sex, which she really didn't like. But, for now he was an acceptable conversation.

He returned with the glass of water and some cherries. "Not to be crass, but all they had were cherries."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. I am definitely starting to get a serious headache. I should have thought about this club idea a little more before I agreed to it."

Grant stood up again and Mary looked up at him. "Are you leaving me?" Grant, acting like a long-time lover, responded. "Now I would never leave you. How could you think such a thing?"

"Then, where are you going?" Mary asked.

"WE are going outside for a little fresh air."

Grant helped her to her feet and they walked outside. It was mildly cool, but in her drunken state, Mary was feeling the cold a little more harshly.

"It's cold out here," she pouted.

"Well, what do ya say we go somewhere to get something substantial inside you?"

Instantly, Mary tensed. She saw where this was going and she knew she wasn't in enough control to dictate the situation if she left with him. She stepped slightly away from him. "I really should go and check on my little sis. Thanks though." She turned and began to walk away.

Grant, realizing how what he said could sound called, "wait Mary, I didn't mean that how it sounded, I swear. You've got me confused with all the other guys in the club."

She laughed curtly, "Oh, and now are you going to tell me you aren't like other guys?"

"Well, yeah. I don't normally come to clubs, I just came for my best friends bachelor party. I was relieved to find someone else who kinda shared my prerogative."

He honestly looked like a little puppy and Mary instantly regretted coming to conclusions based on ambiguous semantics. She decided, whole-heartedly, to give him the benefit of the doubt that he was not like the guys she had met so far.

"I'm really sorry. A girl's gotta be careful. Where did you wanna go so late at night?"

Relieved Grant replied, "It's okay if you leave your sister?"

"Oh yeah, she's got a whole posse in there. Who would punish me for finding a designated driver?"

So they walked to the parking lot together and he let her into his car. She sat on the leather seat and began to shiver. But, she wasn't sure if it was because of the coolness of the seat or the sudden nervousness she felt. She hadn't really thought about the fact that though he seemed nice, she was going alone with a stranger without telling anyone her whereabouts. She could just see this being a story teachers tell in high school about the innocent girl who was raped and murdered by a psychopath.

Grant walked around the car and got in. He looked over and it seemed that she had somehow shrunk. She looked so scared and unsure and her body language said loads about her feelings.

"Hey, ya know what? Why don't you give your sister a call on my cell phone just to make sure she's okay?"

Immediately, Mary was relieved. Would a psychopath encourage calling people and giving information? Her sister was, of course, excited and yelled (loud enough for Grant to here), "Go get you some girl! Wooooo! Later babe!"

Grinning sheepishly, Mary gave the go ahead to Grant and they began to drive to a local 24-hour diner. Silence filled the car, a very awkward one. So Grant decided to start things light asking the generic "get to know you" questions.

Mary was going to the local college to become a nurse, maybe even a doctor if the motivation hit her. She was 22, had a sister and a brother, and loved animals. Her favorite color was pale pink and she loved brownies. Grant thought she was adorable, but he was slightly jarred by her age considering he was ten years her senior. This caused him to start thinking on what his intentions were. This surely wasn't like some fling he could have had with the women at the club, but nonetheless he decided he definitely wanted SOMETHING with her. He just didn't know what.

As they walked into the diner things seemed to be going splendidly. Mary realized that, in spite of herself, she was really enjoying his company. They sat down and ordered and began to chat some more.

Grant was 32 and owned his own construction business. His father was a CEO at a leading insurance company and had sent Grant all the way through college so that he could follow in his footsteps. Obviously, Grant had different feelings and after finishing college he knew just what he didn't want to do. He seemed very genuine and so far Mary liked what she saw.

And then, things went downhill. After, eating 3 fries with some difficulty, Mary felt herself getting sick. She didn't want to ruin their time and pretended she was fine, hoping it would pass. She ate almost nothing, which worried Grant, but he couldn't force-feed her.

They returned to Grant's car and mutually decided that Mary needed to get home. She barely directed him to a cute little neighborhood with cute little houses and finally to her own. She got out, her head spinning, her stomach turning, praying to hold it together until after she made it inside.

Grant watched her and saw her turn a very alarming shade of green. He put his arm around her to help her door. Before they made it, she stopped seemingly without reason, made an appalling face to Grant, and threw-up in the grass.

Mary knew she would be embarrassed, but at this point she was so sick, she could hardly link one thought to the next. She wasn't aware that Grant had picked her up, taken the key from her hand, and headed for the door. However, she became keenly aware that she was in his arms, alone, in her house, in the dark.

Grant ran into a little table and cursed under his breath, searching for her bedroom. He laid her in her bed and pulled the blankets over her as she fell fast to sleep. He found a trash can, placed it beside her bed, and went to the living room where he passed out watching infomercials.