Just a little something that came to sit in the front of my brain while I've been desperately attempting to finish a novel. No, not reading, writing.
The club was packed, the air thick with perfume and sweat and cologne and need. There were almost no couples here, people were trying meet Mr or Mrs Right, right now and right away. The music pounded, making conversation difficult on the floor, impossible near the speakers, and just a shade above possible at the tables.
Tracy was toying with her drink, condensation forming on the glass, oblivious to the discussion around her. She glanced again at her watch, then around the room.
"Oh, hell no," Georgia said, looking at her friend. "Please tell me you didn't invite someone to our girl's night out." Tracy glanced at her, a guilty look appearing on her face. "No. I am not going to be your alibi. And why the fuck are you stepping out on Jim anyway? That man loves you. He cherishes you. If I wasn't married, I'd be all over him."
Tracy was spared a response with the arrival of a young man making a beeline to her table. It was obvious that his arrival was not only expected, but planned.
"Tracy," Julie hissed, "this is a GIRL'S night out. He doesn't seem very feminine to me. Our husbands already dislike our going out like this. If they were to know that you brought..."
"Brad," Tracy offered, looking at her companion with adoration. "I..."
"Tracy," was heard again. But this voice was much deeper than Georgia's or Julie's. As one, every head at the table swiveled and saw Jim, standing close by. "I..." was all he got out before his face crumpled and tears formed in his eyes. "How could you..."
"Don't" Tracy snarled, surprising her friends. "We will talk about this later. You will not embarrass me in front of my friends."
"Do NOT pull us into this," Julie said. "We are happily married and plan on staying that way. Don't try to protect your behavior behind us."
"Why, Tracy," Jim implored. "Why would you throw away 5 years of marriage?"
Tracy looked around and noticed that the music had taken that opportunity to pause. Because they were all speaking louder to be heard above the music, everyone in the club had heard the last few sentences.
"Fine, you want to do this in public? Let's do this in public." Tracy then got up, walked over to the DJ booth. The door had been left unlocked and she bounded up the 5 stairs leading to the control panel where the DJ would make the rare announcement while queuing up the music. Standing in the booth allowed him to look out over the entire floor. "Turn up the lights, please," she said to the DJ. Realizing that this might turn out badly he just turned to her, uncertainty etched on his face. "TURN UP THE GODDAMN LIGHTS," she bellowed. He quickly complied, and everyone was suddenly bathed in the harsh glare of reality.
She gestured to the mike and he turned it on for her, his hands shaking. She saw the bouncers slowly working their way to the booth, intent on ending this before it got out hand.
"You want to know why, Jim? Fine. Because Brad is a much superior lover than you have ever been," her voice echoing out of the speakers. Jim's face turned to the floor, burning red in embarrassment. "Seriously. His three and a half inches is all I need. Why does someone, ANYONE, need 9 inches?" The bouncers stopped approaching the booth to turn to Jim, admiration on their face.
