There was only one woman on the dance floor. He'd been staring at her all night, watching the full, sensuous curves of her body gyrate as the music pulsed with ancient rhythms. With each beat, a further fleeting glimpse of skin. Beat. The skirt rising up as she twirled. Beat. The sway of her hips toward and away from him. Beat. The perky nipples just beneath her dress, blinking into focus as she raised her arms and spun. Beat.
His heart was racing now. The shapely globes of her buttocks, soft skin concealing dancer's muscles beneath. Beat. The music picking up speed. Beat. Her midriff. Beat. Her thighs. He couldn't look away.
But he stayed by the bar, ordered another mojito, and kept watching as her girlfriend came back from the bathroom and they danced together. Was it respect or cowardice? Passion, grace, and fire, all denied him. He didn't know that, if he had danced his way over, they both would have welcomed him. So they danced unknowing and he watched silently and the beat wavered and was lost.
I should preface any discussion by the fact that I am an appallingly bad example in terms of getting up off of that thing and shaking it, whether I feel better or not (come on, please know that song). I have very little in the way of groove thang to shake. Never been much of a dancer. When I was younger, I would, but that was mostly due to my advanced state of inebriation at the time.
Am I encouraging people to try to pick up lesbians? No, absolutely not. It's more a parable about missed opportunities and desires we can't fulfill than anything else. Because the two dancing women are missing out too. If they'd invited him to dance, then he wouldn't have felt excluded. But they didn't, even if they wanted company, and he gave them their distance, whether out of respect or some less-laudable emotion, and thus nothing came of it beyond him probably going home and rubbing out a monster load at the end of the evening. That's life. Most people masturbate more than anything else, I guess, whether it's actual masturbation or simply intellectual or spiritual.
Yeah, I'm just a little ray of sunshine today, aren't I? If it makes you feel better, whether the women went home with a guy or not, they went home together and had wild dancing sex. It makes me feel better. And who knows, maybe our intrepid hero struck up a conversation with the sexy bartender about the annoyances of not knowing whether women are straight or not, and they wound up going home together too. I'm open to the possibility of the bartender being a guy. There's no reason why not getting a particular girl has to turn you off to them completely, but there's also nothing which says that our hero isn't in touch with his feminine side. I guess all I'm saying is that everyone could have gotten lucky that evening, just not with each other. That's life too.
Speaking of life, specifically things which have become a part of my life, Flash Fiction Friday is something I do every week, and you should too because it'll make you think about stuff like this, plus it's fun and easy and the reviews are pure ego-cocaine. Speaking of masturbation... no, only kidding, it's not a circle-jerk, it's a mutual-respect-society. Something like that. If that sounds like the kind of thing you'd like to get in on, head on over and start. There aren't any membership dues.
10 comments:
Great writing. I love the way you capture the emotions. It definitely strikes a chord of recognition of myself in my much younger days.
As for the ego cocaine...no comment. ;-)
Happy FFF!
I always look forward to reading your entries because not only do we often get wildy interesting takes on the pic and/or phrase, but you frequently provide a fascinating commentary on what prompted you to take it in that direction. This one speaks of lost opportunities, sharp like a knife. We're all so foolish about not going after what we want, aren't we?
You intrigue me, woman. I'm very glad you've chosen to join us.
-- PB
Ego-Cocaine? I love it.
I've said it many times, that women dancing together is at once highly erotic and completely intimidating. Are they a couple? Which one do you ask? Is she fresh off a break-up? Will one attack if I talk to the other? So I just leave them alone and watch from a distance, like your protagonist. I like the idea of going home with the hot new bartender, girl version.
Great post.
This is great Lexi, in so many ways and for so many reasons. Oh, and mojito is my favorite drink!
You are such a joy to read every week! I'm always looking forward to the story itself, but mostly what you are saying around it.
We should be dancing!!!!!
Loved the way you accented the beat. Always enjoy your work :)
Happy FFF!
~Soren
@Max: Thanks hun, and you can snort anything you'd like off my ego any time ;)
@PB: Since my blog's not really for fiction, I'm trying to use FFF as a window into myself as a justification, I guess. Any intrigue is unintentional, I assure you ;)
@Advizor: The annoying thing we gals do is dance together for protection, even if we're actually interested in being picked up. I agree that it can be very intimidating to have to break one of us away from the herd, but in exchange for thousands of years of male chauvinism, I'd say having to make the move is a small price to pay ;)
@R: I don't like mint and lime, so mojitos and I don't get along even if they don't have rum in them. I prefer a nice vodka and limeade myself by way of fitting in with the mojito crowd. But mojitos seemed like the drink that would be served at this particular shindig.
@Spring Flower: I am horribly self-conscious about dancing, actually. I can't do it well if I think anyone is watching. I know, it's a bit odd given the things I will do even if I know everyone is watching, but there it is. I think that's part of the story that's for me; hey, Lexi, get up and dance, you're missing out. But I don't listen.
@Soren: It's a bit of a clichéd device, but it felt like the thing to do. It worked for me; glad it worked for you too.
Awww! He shoulda taken a chance. We should all take a chance or we'd miss out on a lot in life. Wonderfully written piece.
~CP
@CP: There certainly are ways of broaching the subject without being a total ass about it. No need to say, "So, you girls just practicing for me?" or any of the other stupid things I've had said to me when dancing with women (who weren't my girlfriends most of the time). I once had a guy ask if he could join us, politely, to which we said, "Hell yes," and that guy got lucky as all get out that evening because he wasn't a dick. But let's be charitable and hope that our intrepid hero really is being polite and doesn't want to break in on a pair, whatever their sexual orientation or gender identity. He's missing out, but he's not being an asshole. Sometimes that's all you can hope for. Having been on the not taking a chance side of things far more often than I'd care to admit, I have a certain sympathy for his plight.
I'm glad you went down this road - I saw music/beat in the painting too, but ended up losing myself in a different story. I'm with CP - he should have taken the chance!
Post a Comment