Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Making New Friends, Maybe Shivving is Easier?

The last day of the month, February 28th, the snow was falling, I recalled the weatherman had said the next day's weather would be no better, but I was not going to be driven indoors. After the winter I'd had, and generally feeling cooped up and depressed, I needed to get out, needed freedom. Doing things that I wanted to do. Going out in the snow was just what I was going to have to deal with in order to have the freedom and the doing of things.

Even with the poor weather I managed to catch a cab and wind my way down to the goth club that I was looking for. Inside it was a cool, pulsing dark, with good music and low noise. Still too early for people, I realized; however, I didn’t want to be out super late since I had plans for the next day. I hung up the large coat and sat the bar, ordered my drink and then thought to read my book.

I probably would have gotten farther in the book but for Sharknado. Was this really a thing? I had heard about it, to be sure, but playing on all the screens in the empty bar was Sharknadowith subtitles, no lessand like a train wreck, it was impossible to pull my eyes away from it for very long, so I sat sort of mesmerized by sharks falling from the skies and paid not much attention to what was going on around me.

At this point with wine and two drinks I was definitely asking for trouble, so I got a cola and deiced to go down to the dance floor and see what was going on there. There was nothing happening near the bar, except friends that were happy to see each other and talking together. It made me miss Korea. The one thing I knew how to do in Korea was meet people in a bar if I really wanted to. Most of the time I really wanted to be left alone in Korean bars; however, on the off chance I was in the mood to make a friend, that bond of ‘I won’t shiv you if you don’t shiv me’ over drinks for an hour, I could. It still felt impossibly hard to do so in Chicago, but I figured if I was going to make friends, a goth bar was a good place to try.

Maybe too good.

“You are beautiful.”

Goth chick in front of me. Check. The evening was getting fuzzy, a swirl of dark and drink. I was dancing, and there was a happiness to the movement. I wanted to move.

“You are amazing.”

Goth chick was dancing with me. I didn't ask her name, I checked her out in her head-to-toe black and fishnet stockings and so I did what I do. I leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back hard, hand in my hard and before I even realized what is happening she was pulling me off the dance floor toward the empty bathroom.

“I love women like you.”

“I get that a lot,” I said. There was all the amusement in my voice as she pushed me up against the wall hard. I hit my head, but I didn't care. There was something frivolous and hedonistic about it. I was thinking in my head I wanted to meet people and make friends and dance, and within seconds I’d been pushed up against a wall in the bathroom with an aggressive goth chick. My brainprobably the part that got hit when my head was pushed against the wallwas giving me a “go” signal, which meant I should probably leave soon, but the goth chick was insistent, and part of me was happy to be so wildly interesting to someone that ravishing me in a bathroom as all she had in mind.

She kissed me hard again as I helped her up off the floor.

“Thank you,” she said, and she left me standing there straightening out my clothes, head swimming, head hurting a bit.

Right.

Right.

I splashed cold water on my face in the bathroom, and the cold of the bar came crashing down on me all at once. I walked back into the open space and it was still dark, with dreamy music and still mostly empty. My braindefinitely the part I hit when my head hit the wallwas getting more insistent about go time, so I got my coat and walked out into the cold, slipping and twisting my knee.

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