My name is Alistair, and back in May of 2002 I tagged along with my buddy Darren as he headed for a bar on the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. On the way he received a phone call from a friend, a guy we called Dan-Dan, and as Dan-Dan spoke on the other end, Daren turned off of Santa Monica Blvd. and pointed his Camaro towards the Main Street drag. "Change of plans." He rolled his head towards me and smiled. "Dan-Dan and Scottie have something lined up for us at Main."
I've never been comfortable hitting on chicks, but having come out of a three year relationship put me way behind in my game. Fortunately Dan-Dan and Scottie had that part all taken care of, or so they said. The two of them found four chicks who suited their ten-to-ten rule and were now looking for a headcount to match. Their rule stipulated that up to ten-o-clock they'd only sick their charms on chicks scoring a ten, but at eleven they'd start shopping for nines, and at twelve, eights, and so on until they were too drunk to care anymore. I don't know if the rule was created for fun or if they truly adhered to it, but seeing that it was only nine-thirty, and that meant 'tens' were supposedly waiting for us, I was highly skeptical.
They hadn't lied!
Of the four chicks I was immediately taken by this girl named Kelly, only she held Scottie's hand and pinched his right thumb knuckle, explaining how it happened to be one of her favorite erogenous zones. Scottie let her know she was crazy, and I guess to prove she wasn't, she slipped his thumb between her lips and sucked it like a little girl. It was absolutely one of the hottest things I'd ever seen, and left Scottie smiling like a goofball. I admit being pretty envious of the fucker.
Things between the rest of us guys and gals were still undecided––at least in terms of who was getting who––and so we talked and drank as a big group for the next hour.
Main was a romantically lit club, but it's cluttered with a maze of vertical grey bars, almost forming jail cells, and large sections of the walls were painted in black and brown lacquer, making the place feel overwhelmingly masculine––then there was Kelly in the middle of it all, the softest pillow of relief and difficult to pull my eyes from. The other three girls were exceptionally pretty, but Kelly was something else. She'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail, which exposed the entirety of her face, and showcased her smooth tan skin with its near satin sheen. A few undone buttons on her fuzzy sweater, and just barely enough chest to provide cleavage, meant another thing I had trouble
not
staring at.
Her eyebrows characterized her best, they were a shade darker than her sandy blonde hair and sympathetically angled, making her expression seem kind and friendly, which she very much was, even to the point of being a huge flirt. Was I growing even more envious of Scottie? Fuck yeah!
The club continued to fill up, forcing everyone to forget about the concept of personal space. Then from out of nowhere Scottie threw an arm around me and pulled me near enough to speak straight in my ear. "You going to bang any of these chicks or what?"
He had a way of forcing the issue, so I let him know I was probably going to pass. They were all cute, but I just wasn't clicking with them. Instead of giving me the how-lame-are-you-speech I know he felt I deserved, he massaged my shoulders and smiled big. "Dude, is it cool if I go in for the kill?"
"Sure, but what happened to Kelly, it looked like you were in there?"
"She dropped the boyfriend bomb. Fuck'n little tease just now got around to mentioning him. I knew that bitch was too good to be true."
I quickly made my way to Kelly, grabbed her thumb, and said over the music, "I heard this is one of the most erogenous areas of the body." She laughed, hiding her face in her other hand. She was super easy to talk to, and before I knew it we'd spent over an hour going back and forth on everything.
Scottie came by and shoved two martinis between us. He was a bartender at T.G.I.Friday's, and liked to introduce everyone to what he considered to be the best in cocktails. As we took the drinks, I noticed Kelly's eyes appeared less than friendly for the first time that night, and I realized she was a bit peeved at Scottie for dropping her like a hot potato.
Scottie was reasonably charming and very self-assured––being about six-one and two hundred pounds––but he bordered on cocky, always pushing himself on women as if they didn't really have a choice. Maybe things would have been different if he didn't have the looks to get away with it, but he did––and the way he'd so quickly riled Kelly up, led me to believe that a lame apology would turn her around equally as quick, and he'd still end up going home with her, boyfriend or not. Lucky for me he didn't feel like apologizing.
The martini happened to be Grande Mariner, VOX Vodka, and a twist of orange peel. It was big, good, and strong, and my recollection of the rest of the evening suffered some. It hit Kelly, too, and soon she was holding my arm tightly against her, and hugging a cheek to my shoulder. Initially the knowledge of her boyfriend made conversation easy––I couldn't fuck up what could never be––but now she was this little sweet thing with these wide blue eyes, pleading for more and more of my attention as the night continued, and it killed me.
Scottie talked to her friend, who'd grown louder by the minute and obviously the drunkest of the bunch. Every time Kelly looked their way, I'd lose her––her pretty little forehead would bunch up and her soft eyebrows would sink. She finally insisted that her friend had too much to drink and Kelly couldn't watch a guy like Scottie take total advantage of her. Before I could say anything, she pulled her friend from Scottie and took her glass. They started hugging as she pressed upon her friend that it was time to leave.
Scottie pulled her back, and a tense moment occurred where I had to call him aside and have a talk. He was pissed, and said something to the effect of, "So that Kelly chick's got her panties in a twist because I deprived her of dick, and now she's going to cock-block¬¬ her friend?"
I tried to explain it wasn't that, and he momentarily gave in, saying, "Fuck it! Take her home. I don't need this shit!"
Kelly and I took that opportunity to get her friend into a Taxi and drive her home. On the way Kelly told her what an asshole Scottie was, and that she would've totally regretted it in the morning. She was too drunk to understand and yelled back, and I thought for sure the cab driver was going to drop us at the nearest corner. When we reached her apartment I walked them to the door and Kelly saw her inside. Kelly and I then went to Kelly's place and my heart danced when I found myself being invited in.
In her living room I discovered a Britney Spears CD and held it up. "Are you sure you're twenty-three?" She grabbed it from me and insisted she only bought it for one song. I'd forgotten all about her previously mentioned boyfriend and apparently she did too, because we made our way into the bedroom where I laid eyes her gorilla collection for the first time––about twenty stuffed animal gorillas on shelves and at either side of her vanity mirror.
