I've always been the kind of guy who was told to mind my own business a lot. Curious, inquisitive, perhaps a bit nosey, I admit, but always with good intentions. I promise. So when Halley's Comet passed recently, and news stories of particularly pernicious partygoers started to proliferate, I took notice. It first began as most things in my rather uneventful life did, in a messy living room watching the only luxurious item in the apartment: a big-screen smart television. Gathered around it was myself, my best friend and I hoped in the future my best man Wes, and the big brother I idolized my entire life, Kyle.
We were fairly inebriated during our own celebrations of this once-in-a-lifetime event, having been watching the news broadcast of a high-definition telescope keeping a static line of the Comet passing by. Kyle had to make room on the coffee table littered with cigarette butts and various bits of trash before he could safely put down his prized gravity bong(a rather haphazard result of half of a full gallon container of milk, and half a mountain dew bottle). We had been discussing all manner of the usual topics we three found interest in. Philosophy, politics, the economy, the favorites of potheads who whilst enjoying their high acquire the strange delusion of being able to fix the world with a simple conversation.
"Dude, the point is, we don't 'know' anything, it's all filtered through our senses, which can be wrong," my brother retorts to a point I had made a moment before he took a rather generous hit. For his part, Wes was entirely disinterested in this sort of talk and had been focusing more on the news about various celebrations, with one thing on his mind more than anything: All the lovely ladies out and about enjoying their nights. It was precisely this that prompted him to interrupt our pseudointellectual conversation.
"Guys, check it out!" he points at the television, getting our attention on the news report. A reporter wearing many rows of beads on his neck was chuckling and explaining what he was seeing whilst on the streets of our wonderful city.
"I've seen it all today guys I swear! The police had to be called, not a moment after the Comet reached the apex of its journey overtop our skies, several couples began engaging in incredibly lewd displays! The police have been called to break up the commotion, but the more they engage the more it seems the crowd wants to see. I'm gonna have to get out of here before I do something that'll get me in trouble!"
The live feed was doing its best to avoid anything which could cause issues to the station airing the broadcast, but the sounds of moaning and almost bestial yells and snarls filled the air around the reporter, and many people in the background were, while still clothed, almost glued to each other, tongues wrestling and hips gyrating, hands groping and quickly beginning to tear off the clothes that kept them from needing censoring. My brother laughs and slaps his knee, "Holy shit people are CRAZY on nights like this huh? Full moons, meteor showers, nuts."
I keep watching the broadcast before the acts on television become too inappropriate to show with a look of interest somewhat different from Wes' jealousy and my brother's amusement. Not long after, Kyle looks at me and seems to recognize the look, giving a bit of a sigh as he lights up a cigarette and shakes his head, "Don't," he says simply, getting my attention back to him as we lock eyes for a solid moment, my eyebrow raised inquisitively. "Just don't. You read into shit too much. It's just party people doing what party people do. Nothing more, nothing less."
Well, perhaps so, it's not too strange to see people engaged in lewd behavior publicly during celebrations, but actual sex acts passed a usual bar for the norm around here. So because of that, my brain started working through the haze of pot smoke and alcohol. The rest of the night was more or less uneventful. Wes had his third shift job at the gas station to get to, and Kyle was far too out of it to stay conscious for more than an hour after our talk. I stayed up far longer than I should, looking up whatever I could on odd happenings during lunar and astrological events, to almost no real headway.
When I awoke the next afternoon, Wes was home and relaxing in his uniform, odd since he's usually asleep by now, but the wide grin on his face told me he was too excited about something.
"What's up with you? Meet someone special at work?" I asked, mostly teasing, not expecting his answer.
"Lots actually!" He responded almost giddily, chuckling all the while. I regarded him for a moment, gauging to see if he was serious before it seemed clear that not only was he serious, but he was ecstatic. He told me about his night, where not only were his female co-workers a lot more friendly to him than usual, but a good many customers of the feminine variety showed interest in him as well. Weirdly, many of them appeared to be much more attractive than the usual clientele as well. "I dunno if there's a stripper convention in town or what but it was AWESOME dude!" I congratulated him on his newfound confidence before casually asking if he actually received any contact information or anything he can follow up on, and he was even more excited about that, "Yup! This girl Jessica came in, redhead, BANGING titties, so I'm like, heh, I'm up for anything, and she's like, asking me if I had a friend, 'cause she does too, right?" I wasn't crazy about how Wes spoke sometimes, it was sometimes hard to follow, "So anyways I was thinking about you because like, you've been out of the market for a few years and-"
I held up a hand to stop him as I was starting to understand his meaning. "Thanks for thinking of me but honestly I just do not have the mental energy for dating right now," I explained. It was true, Throughout my 20's I very much had the same mentality as my best friend: women, parties, drugs, it was a wild time. But as I realized I was going nowhere, and I was already thirty years old, I decided to switch gears and focus on my own life, my career, my creative works, and my studies.
"Yeah, I know! That's why I decided on Kyle instead!" Wes blurted out, cutting off my impending explanation. I was a bit taken aback and experienced a mix of relief, and trepidation, but also some optimism. Kyle has had girlfriends plenty, and none of them ended well. The vast majority of them are responsible for having introduced him to new and interesting drugs, abusing him, stealing money from him, and in spite of all of that, he's still a romantic at heart. I'd like to see him be happy with someone. "She wants to go out tonight, and told me to bring him, so I'm waiting on him to wake up, let him know, and then I'm gonna get some sleep."
I looked at him a moment, a complete stranger propositions him during his work. And according to him, an incredibly attractive one, who also wants to hook up a friend of his with one of hers. I have no idea what to do with this information at the moment other than to be suspicious of it. I love Wes like a second brother, but he's not exactly the type of guy to attract the porn star that he's claiming he met. He's not exactly in shape, not working a great job, and with a giggle snort sort of laugh that he often does when he's nervous I have to assume either this is a woman who might be after something else, or he's exaggerating.
"Where are you guys going?" I asked, feigning an idle curiosity, as if I'm just making conversation. It's too convenient. The night that people are going crazy having sex in the streets and, from reports, apparently riot cops being called to finally break it up, and on the same night, he's propositioned. It might seem creepy, and strange, but I need to investigate. Wes gives me the address of one of the local clubs that he's supposed to meet them at tonight, apparently having taken the night off for the first date he's had in a year. Understandable.