I knew before it even started that it was going to be a horrible night. The only reason I was even invited to the bachelorette party was because I was the groom's sister. And as the designated driver for a party that had rented a limo? That was the title Ally had given me when I told her I didn't drink.
"Don't worry Rhett, you can be the DD!" she had giggled. Then we left in a limo, driven by an overweight man who looked like he was done with the world.
I wasn't trying to be a stick in the mud, but my big brothers soon to be bride was not my people. Her friends were not my people. They were the kind of girls who watched reality TV in a non-ironic way and never read a book, or anything at all unless it was a tabloid about the newest celebrity gossip. Their clothes all had brand names and their shoes cost as much as a house payment. I could not fathom that, not at all.
We started the night at a drag club, which actually wasn't that bad. Not until Ally happened. Everyone knows Ally. Not my future sister in law Ally, but a girl like her. We all know one. Beautiful, bigger than life, 1000 watt smile, always has to be the center of attention. The thing about girls like Ally and drag queens? They don't mix well. The queens are there, in their element, in their club, being who they were born to be, and along comes a loudmouth rich girl who thinks she can take the stage for the night. Not only were the queens not having it, their patrons weren't either.
We left there pretty quick once it was clear we were no longer welcome. That set the tone for the evening.
I already stood out. I was the only one not in a dress, not in pink and not wearing something dick related. No headband with lightup penis's, no penis tipped straw to drink out of, no blow up dick belted around my waist. The crude and crass toys got bigger as the evening wore on. Bar after bar, we were asked to leave when the drunk socialites got too rowdy and ridiculous, trying to dance on the bar and be 'common' as they called it.
I sat back and watched them, hating my brother for most of the night. Not a soul knew I was with them until I left with them when they were asked to leave. For that, I was thankful.
It was past midnight when Ally asked the driver to take them to the rowdiest bar he knew about. We had been to half a dozen of the more upscale places already and been kicked out of all of them. She wanted a place to let loose where no one would care.
At first he refused, then Ally handed him two $100 bills. So he drove us into another part of the city with fewer street lights and scarier looking businesses and people. The little bar he stopped in front of made me queasy. There were motorcycles out front and neon signs in the window that shouted the brand names of beers, but no signage about it being a bar or what it was called.
"Ally," I began, but she was drunk. She opened the door and whooped loudly, swinging her pink feather boa over her head like a lasso.
The driver put a hand on my arm. "It's ok. This place looks rough, but these bikers are almost all cops. She'll get her adventure with zero chance of real danger."
"Oh. Awesome, thanks."
"Sure. Good luck with her."
I followed Ally and the other girls in with a sigh.
The first thing I noticed was that it was a lot bigger than it looked. It looked like a hole in the wall next to a warehouse, but the warehouse was part of the bar. There were pool tables, dart boards, three separate bars, a stage with a band. It was huge and it was pretty full.
The bikers looked at our group warily and a little grumpily. A nuisance they were going to have to deal with. Ugh. I sat down at a small side booth to watch Ally and her friends parade around and get drinks. Be loud, get attention. Some of the men smiled and jollied them along, but most of them pretended they weren't there.
I looked down at my phone and sighed again. Less than 3% left on my battery. I had spent too much time reading on my app. I was going to have to sit this one out.
The girls ended at a pool table with a group of bikers 'teaching' them how to play pool. Teaching had a lot of touching involved.
I looked around the room and my eyes stopped on a man at the bar who was watching me. I felt myself blush and I looked away immediately, but then almost immediately glanced at him again and he was still staring.
The man wasn't my type, not even remotely. I had a type and it was a very narrow type. In highschool, my boyfriend and I had started as bitter rivals for the highest GPA. We turned into a thing and we were pretty happy. We had a lot in common, from books, to life goals, to where we wanted to live someday. He was also a youth pastor. We didn't share ideology, I was more of an agnostic, but I supported his goals completely. We had kissed and made out a lot, but never more. One night it almost went too far, we were pulled back from the brink by accident. My brother had come over late because he had been drinking and didn't want to drive home. My apartment was a few blocks from where he had been.
The next day, Brandt asked me to marry him, he was so eager. I had felt something was wrong though and it didn't take long to realize that it wasn't about love. He wanted to marry me so that it would be ok for us to have sex. We talked about it and decided that while we cared about each other and we had a lot in common, we shouldn't get married just so we could have sex. We would still date and see where it went, but it seemed like that had been some sort of roadblock. We stopped dating and a month after we made it official, he was engaged to a girl who had been considered promiscuous back in highschool. It had been a confusing time for me, but I got over him quickly.
In college I met another boy through mutual friends. He was easily the smartest boy I had ever met and we hit it off great. He had no religious ideologies but we never ended up in bed. We dated for a whole year before he decided he was going to do a European tour with a backpack before starting his life. We split up, saying if things were right, we'd find each other when he got back. A month later, I got an e-vite to his wedding in Barcelona, a girl named Viola.
Soon after that, I became a professor's assistant and as you can imagine, things went as you would expect. He was cute for an older guy, and not really much older than me. We had made out like highschoolers and I was about to go all the way with him. He was smart. Too smart for his own good. I would have never found out he was married if I hadn't accidentally run into them while meeting my father for drinks near the airport.
I didn't make a scene, just nodded at him, then introduced my father when he asked who I was staring at. Introduced him as my professor and the man I used to be an assistant to until I dropped the position to focus on labs. After that, I never went back to his class, just had a friend get my things. I didn't want a stupid excuse. He never tried to call or explain though.
Now I was single again, but I wasn't sweating it. I had a new job, I was doing well. My degree was already paying for itself. I was happy.
I didn't need some wannabe biker trying to come on to me on the most miserable night of my life.
I glanced up again and he was listening to the guy next to him talking.
He didn't look like a cop. Not at all. His hair was shoulder length and pulled back off his face, showing off the tattoos on his neck. Those weren't regulation. When he picked up his mug, I could see ink on his hands as well. Surely he couldn't be a cop? Maybe he was undercover? Why would he be here though?
He turned and looked at me again and I quickly looked away. I watched Ally and her friends getting groped by men who weren't even really even pretending to be teaching them to play pool anymore. I noticed as I looked around that there weren't very many women in the bar. The few I could see weren't hanging on men, or even with them romantically as far as I could see.
"Friends of yours?"
I jumped and turned, looking up at the man.
"Ummm..."
"They don't look much like friends of yours."
"Oh... no. Not so much."
I thought he was going to offer to buy me a drink, I was all ready with my response.
"Let's dance."
"I'm the DD, I'm not... oh... umm... no one is dancing? There is no dance floor?"
He laughed and took hold of my hand, pulling me up. He put his arms around me right there next to the table and swayed with the music. I craned my neck, looking up at him, embarrassed. "Family?" he asked quietly.
"Not yet. Soon."
"Thought so. Your brother make you come?"
"Step, yeah,Pretty much."
"You old enough to be in a bar?"
"Does it matter if I am the DD?"
"Not gonna kick you out, just asking."
"I'm old enough... just short."
"Those your step-brother's old clothes?"
"No!" I answered, horrified. Then thought about it. The flannel had been my step-brothers and it was way too big for me, but I loved it. The t-shirt had been my ex's. I felt my face heat and I went to pull away.
"Easy, I was just kidding around. Mostly. Mostly noticing that you don't fit in with that lot. What's your name?"
"I should go check on Ally," I mumbled, pulling away from him. I hurried to the pool table and glanced behind me. He was standing at my table with his head cocked, watching me.
"RHETT!" Ally squealed. "Oh, isn't she just cute enough to eat?" she said, hugging me close, then turning me to the man who had just been standing with his arms around her and kissing on her neck.
"She's a doll. Come on back over here babe. Let me show you how to sink one from the corner."
"Rhett, this is Lou. He's teaching me to play pool!"
"Lewis, babe. Come on. Hey kid, if you go to the bar, Mike'll get you a pop or somethin'."
