This is for the
750 Word Project
(so it's short on purpose)
*** *** ***
My wife Barb and I were at a dance club at the invitation of Barb's co-worker, Tracy. We were hanging with Tracy, her husband, Jerry, and a group of their friends; two women and four men, all black. We four are white. Everyone seemed friendly enough, even covering all our drinks. But Barb was already clearly tipsy and I was feeling increasingly uneasy.
Each man except for Jerry had danced with Barb and the three other women had danced with me; it was a dance club after all. But the last time I'd taken my wife out on the floor I'd gotten a vibe from the table like I was somehow interrupting her date with someone else.
Now, a big stud named Charles was guiding Barb to the dance floor with his hand firmly on her ass. She wasn't brushing it off. I needed to cut off the booze and maybe get her out of there.
I moved to follow, but one of the black women held my arm and said, "Stay and talk with me, sweetie."
"I'm afraid nature calls," I said.
She reluctantly made way.
Just then, Tracy came back from dancing with another linebacker type, Reggie. Taking in her long, toned legs, I noticed for the first time a silver anklet with a charm: a Spade marked with a Q.
I stood quickly, but Reggie blocked my way to the floor.