I walked right by her.
The streetlights flickered dimly overhead as I made my way through the haze of a late October evening that was punctuated by brief spells of light rain. I was wrapped up in my old black pea coat, which was as stiff and scratchy as it was the day that I bought it. I had made an attempt to clean up for the night out on the town, and my skin still tingled from the burning hotness of the shower I had just taken minutes before. My smooth cheeks smelled like a bar of Dove soap. My frugal habit was to shave with a disposable razor until it begin to scratch my skin and draw blood, with only a bar of sudsy soap as my shaving cream. I wasn’t a rich man by any means, but I made ends meet somehow.
I smelled the acrid sweetness of the wet cement sidewalk as I walked on through the night. The bitter fumes of stale beer wafted out of the open glass entryway of a crowded bar as I walked past, and a gentle roar of conversation spilled out onto the streets of Minneapolis. I glanced into the hubbub of the establishment and noticed a man of about forty years of age dressed in tan chinos and a black button-down shirt gesturing expansively, sloshing his glass of beer onto the chest of his buxom date who sat primly across from him on a high-backed stool. Her brow furrowed as the man drunkenly got to his feet, grabbing at a cup full of napkins on the table to dab ineffectively at her moistened cleavage. She brushed his hand away brusquely, and a dark flush spread across her cheeks.
I definitely didn’t want to end up a joker like him, I thought wryly. I thought bitterly about Tara for a moment and then I remembered the cute girl that I had just passed. I turned my head to try to catch a glimpse of her ass.
She had continued to walk toward the intersection. I noticed that her ass was really cute, undulating underneath the short skirt that she wore. Before I turned back to continue on my own way, I noticed a piece of paper flutter out of her purse and down onto the sidewalk. She hadn’t seemed to notice and continued onward toward the intersection.
Hmmm, I thought, an opportunity to introduce myself. In one fluid motion I pulled a pack of cigarettes from my coat pocket and slid a white cylinder in between my lips. I pulled a lighter out of my blue-jeaned pocket and lit it. I inhaled the pungent smoke deep into my lungs and coughed, smoke billowing from my mouth and nose as I hacked. I sauntered my way back up the sidewalk.
I picked up the flier and walked casually up the sidewalk toward her. In the silence of the city roar, I could hear my black boots scuffling clumsily along the cement. I puffed on my cigarette, hoping I might come up with some sort of funny opening line once I got to where she stood. Nothing popped into my head, and I shook it to clear out my thoughts.
My mind was fuzzy from the twelve hour shift that I had taken the day before at my job as a video store clerk. I enjoyed working there well enough, but it was uneventful and mind-numbing work at times. The only real perks were cheap video rentals, but I made minimum wage. At least I didn't have to flip burgers anymore, I thought. I had done that for far too many years. I would always come home smelling of hamburger grease and French fries when I worked as a fry cook. Now, the smell of fast food made me gag.
I reached the spot where she stood, fidgeting, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She turned toward me and her eyes traversed my body from head to toe, her arms folded across her chest, a slight furrow on her otherwise smooth forehead. She was very cute, I thought feverishly, way above my level. Sweat dampened my armpits. She had a septum piercing that somehow accentuated her high cheekbones and full red lips. Her eyeliner was thick but tasteful and her long dark hair fell past shoulders freely.
She had thrown a dark brown wool coat over her cream colored blouse, and wore a checkered skirt that was cinched tightly at the waist, showing off her figure. She had kind of a punk rock school girl look, I thought, visualizing her black leather combat boots smashing into my kneecaps.
“Hi there. You dropped this.” I held up the paper she had dropped.
Her sharp eyebrow, pierced through with multiple curved barbells, was arched like the backbone of a swan in flight.
“Who the fuck are you? Are you following me?” Her furrow deepened.
I frowned as well.
“No. I mean, sort of. I just noticed that you dropped this and wanted to return it to you. My name is Grant. Grant Adams.” I looked at the flier. It was for something called the Suicide Girls Blackheart Burlesque show. Was that like a stripclub or something, I wondered? She snatched the crumpled paper out of my hand and stuffed it back into her purse.
“Thanks, I guess.”
We stared at each other. Her eyes were dark, like gems at the bottom of a deep pool.
She smirked at me.
Damn, she is just way too cute for a loser like me, I thought, and felt subconscious about my second- hand wardrobe as her gaze traveled over me once again.
“What’s your story? You live around here?”
“Yeah, up near the University of Minnesota in the Southeast area. Where all the rich professors live. I like the Northeast area of town better, though. Good old Scandinavian working class folks. No frat boys puking in the bushes like around my neighborhood.”
The corner of her pursed lips turned upward. I was pleased that I had amused her.
I decided that I was going to go for it and ask her out on a date, even though the odds were stacked against me.
“So, hey, since it’s a lovely night out and all, I was wondering: Do you want to join me for a drink at the Kitty Kat Club up in Dinkytown? On me, of course.” I winced internally as I thought of my dwindling bank account. I ran a hand through my longish blond hair to indicate that I was a laid back kind of guy, and cool with whatever choice that she made.
She snorted. “I mean, why the fuck not. Lead the way, superstar. I was hoping to be three drinks in by now, but you've been pestering me on the sidewalk like some fucking panhandling asshole.”
I smiled, realizing I was kind of acting like a dog begging for a treat. “For sure. Hopefully you are okay with walking there. It's only about eight or ten blocks down that way.” I pointed to the east and stepped out onto the street as a city bus, reeking of exhaust, growled past me. The cute girl shrugged and followed me.
#erotica