Sure reader, plenty of time to talk later. Talking’s over-rated anyway. A chick thing. I was an atomic bomb of pure energy on a night the whole of my half-life was coming to an end. I didn’t need words to approximate or label my experience. I wanted to feel free, free, free.
So with the exception of the techno music that blared incessantly, the three of us sat silently in the booth and stared at the various costumed partiers.
“...Where’d you go before?” Ata eventually asked me. “I didn’t see you dancing.”
“Some girl gave me a blowjob in the bathroom.”
“What?!” Ata asked as she whipped ‘round to face me.
“A girl gave me a blowjob in the bathroom. A butterfly girl. Or maybe she was a firefly--I’m not really sure. It was nice.”
“Not that girl with the lights all over her?” Ata asked.
“You mean the green ones? The flashing ones? Yeah, I think that was her.”
“Oh no Lodo--really?”
“Yeah, why?” I asked.
“Ugh, Lodo! That girl fucks everyone at these parties.”
“What d’ya mean--everyone?”
“ I mean everyone--she’s crazy,” Ata said as she stood up to scan the dancefloor. “Her?,” she asked as she pointed off into the distance.
And sure enough there was my butterfly girl leading another guy into the bathroom just as she’d done with me. Only now there was a whole train of guys standing in a line outside. At least a half-dozen of ‘em, in various costumes that only added to the debauchery of the situation. Smoking and fidgeting impatiently in anticipation of getting their rocks off.
God damn talking.
“Well,” I said, “if I get H.I.V I suppose we’ll know where I got it.”
To this we laughed momentarily until Ata’s eyes suddenly got wide and her jaw dropped open as though she’d seen some kind of ghostly apparition or sublime vision behind my eyes that required her to grasp the table for support.
“What?!” I asked, scared by her expression.
“My God Lodo!” she said as though in the midst of a great epiphany, “Before we were born we were dead a billion years!”
A bizarre comment so out of character for my sweet, simple Ata that I knew that acid of hers was worth scoring.
But Ata still seemed somewhat unsure of her experience.
“When I go to these parties I always dance and dance Lodo; but now I don’t even feel this music,” she said dejectedly.
Course the problem (at least in my mind) was that the music sucked. On Ecstasy you can dance and sway and feel groovy to that techno crap. It’s a fun, shallow drug. But on acid or mushrooms you need something soulful. Something real. I’m not saying it had to be Jimi Hendrix, but I’d have killed for a live drummer or just one horn player.
But all we had was the dee jay and and I was tired of sitting round. I was officially on the opposite side of 45 and possibly already dying of H.I.V, so all this feminine passivity began to rub me the wrong way.
“You know what the problem is?” I said to Ata as I grabbed her arm and proceeded to pull her out the booth, “you’ve gotta dance to this music. This isn’t stuff to just sit here and listen to.”
“No!” she screamed as she anxiously tried to shake from my grip. But I wasn’t having it.
“No to you!” I responded. “You were the one who told me I had to get out tonight. Let’s go, and we’re even taking smacked-out Nikki here with us.”
“Nikki--are you kidding?”
No I wasn’t kidding. I felt like Robert De Niro in The Deerhunter as I pulled Ata out the booth and scooped Nikki up over my shoulder. She offered no resistance whatsoever and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds. With the two of them I stormed out onto the crowded dance floor where I placed Nikki down like a bowling pin. She wobbled on her rubbery legs, but was packed within so many people she could never entirely fall over. By the time I turned ‘round, Ata was already dancing and twirling with beautiful abandon, lost in her beloved techno.
And she never did stop. At least, not til the sun came up. All of us at the party greeted it together as the first rays of the new dawn split thru the dirty window panes of the old Brooklyn loft. It was only die-hards by now, which isn’t to say there weren’t a lot of us. Maybe 50 people. So over-tired from dancing and drugs that a kind of exhausted, beat clarity set in that made you feel part of something bigger. The dee jay continued to spin records, and Ata--who’d sat out much of the night, was one of the few of us with any juice left.
Still, there was one gal I noticed out the corner of my eye. She was dressed like a tiger and wore a sign that read I’m one of the 99 purrrcent! We exchanged a few meaningful glances over the course of about half-an-hour, and at some point found ourselves next to each other on the dance-floor.
“I like your hat,” she eventually said to me. “That’s hot.”
“So are you,” I said as I playfully stroked her tail. She didn’t seem to mind.
“...Well, I guess one thing leads to another,” I said as I grabbed her round the waist and tried to led her into the bathroom like the night had started.
“Hey!” she said as she swatted my arm away, more shocked than angry. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “One thing leads to another is all,” as though somehow that meaningless statement answered all questions.
“One thing hasn’t led to anything,” she answered. “In fact, one thing hasn’t even happened yet. I’ve known you for 2 seconds.”
I had to consider her comment.
“Yeah, I see your point. ...But someone has to take the initiative.”
* NOTE: The top (5) photos were taken by me and may or may not have been from the party described herein. Also note that I did not receive oral sex from any of the women who's images I've used in this post. Their pictures have been included simply to enhance the story. Thanks for reading!!
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