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I throw my hands in the air. “Seriously! Like today can’t get any more painful. What now?”
VICTORIA
“I can’t believe you are ditching us. The night is young, we have other bars to hit,” Theo screams over top of the music. What was supposed to be a few quiet after-work drinks has escalated into a Friday night of partying. Gwenda warned me!
“You can have a dance for me then. I’m tapping out. I still have a long trip home.” No way I can be dancing now. The room’s already swimming a lot and I feel a little weird. I didn’t think I’d had enough to be this drunk, but I know I’m past my limit of safe drinking to get on a train by myself, but here we are. Story of my life, trying to fit in with the crowd.
“Stay at my place,” he says, putting his arm around me, and we sway together. I’m not sure if he is trying to make me dance or if we are just both far tipsier than I realized and can’t stand up straight.
“I don’t even know you.” My best friend Elouise would kill me if I went home with a stranger. Plus, I don’t want to screw this job up. Don’t cross the line with co-workers, that’s my rule.
Theo must have seen the worry on my face.
“Not like that, you’d be sleeping on the couch. I don’t fuck on first dates.” He smirks at me as I push him away.
“What the hell, you’re an absolute tosser. We work together, this isn’t a date.” Suzi, hearing my raised voice, turns and smacks Theo around the back of the head.
“Don’t be a dick and scare her away on the first day. Just ignore him. You can stay with me if you like, but there’s no pressure from any of us to stay here drinking with these crazy people. Plenty more nights out to get pissed with this lunatic,” she says, pointing at Theo who is currently well on his way to drunk city. “Theo practically lives in this bar. How else do you think we got in to such a swanky place. Money talks, girl.” I’m not sure what that is supposed to mean, and I’m so confused. But the only thing I’m sure of is that I need to get on the subway to go home.
Starting to look around me and gaining my bearings on where the exit is, I start noticing that the clientele has changed somewhat since we got here.
The after-work dress on the women has been swapped out for the short, fitted dresses that if a guy ran his hand down over her ass, it would end up in her underwear, or lack thereof. Or the tightest pants with the see-through sequin tops or a crop top that shows off her best assets. I wouldn’t be game to bend over in pants that tight; I’d rip them clean open, from my pussy to my asshole.
Now the men, mmm, holy freaking cow! I could get lost running my hands over the verrrrrry expensive suits, checking out every single thread, and don’t even get me started on the tight shirts with the rolled-up sleeves. The men in here are flashing some very hot arm porn in every corner of the room. My sudden hot flush has probably got more to do with what I’m picturing is hiding under those suits, because fuck me every day of the week, this is a meat market for hotness in here. I guess it’s true what they say, money can buy you happiness, because if I was riding one of these rich hotties in here, I’d be more than happy—I’d be fucktastic.
Oh dear, drunk-potty-mouth Tori is in the house. Now I just need to keep these thoughts in my head, before I totally wreck the nice, sophisticated Tori image I built in the office today. I check the faces of everyone from work that is still around me, and thankfully, no one is looking at me shocked. Yay to scoring a point for my inside voice tonight.
Ughh, where is Elouise when I need her. She keeps me under control, well, most nights anyway. I shouldn’t be allowed out drinking without her. Note for future sober Tori, invite her to Friday-night work drinks. Just the thought of her and Theo in the same room has me giggling. It would be like a stand-off of pushiness. That would be entertaining without any drinking.
Looking at my phone, I see it’s later than I realized. Shit, I need to get out of here. But having a quick visit to the toilet is a must before I leave the bar. No way I can cross my legs all the way home, and this morning’s train trip was already embarrassing enough. I’ll try to keep my bodily fluids inside my body this time. Although it wasn’t a complete waste of a trip. I did have a scrumptious view. I should have offered to lick him clean of the tea I spat all over him.
Pointing toward the ladies’ room to Suzi, she nods at me as I start making my way through the crowd. That’s the problem when you’re drunk. Finding the gaps in the crowd becomes a little more of a challenge as you stagger. And the closer I get to the edge of the dance floor full of people, the more my bladder has decided it’s time to explode.
Lord, please let there be no line up.
Yeah, sure. The odds of that are like winning the lottery. None!
Damn it, if this line doesn’t hurry up, I’m going to wee my pants.
The side shuffle along the wall of the bar is moving but still slowly. Trying to distract myself, I look up into what I have now worked out to be the VIP area on the mezzanine. It’s like I have conjured up my hottie from this morning.
Surely not!
I can only see this tall blond guy from behind, but what a glorious behind it is.
I must be seeing things, or I’m drunker than I thought, which is pretty drunk. His arm is hooked around a little silvery disco ball. Well, that’s what she looks like to me, with all the flashing lights hitting her shiny dress. Just like I said, his hand is almost slipping into the land of pleasure as he slides it down past the hem of the dress.
No, it can’t be him. He didn’t seem like this would be his scene. I picture him home in front of the fire at a big old wooden desk, still working on his computer. Men like him never sleep. Plus, he was on my train. He’s probably long out of the city by now if he had any sense. Not still here like me and almost flooding the floor trying to stop my bladder from bursting.
Finally, it’s my turn to step in through the door, and the urgency of being so close to the toilet, the relief overtakes any need to care if it is him or not. It’s not like I even know him or that he would remember me. Well, maybe spitting tea on someone makes you memorable, but let’s just say I’m not keen to find that out.
Standing at the sink and washing my hands, I can’t help but listen to all the gossip around me.
Women can deny it all we like, but we love to gossip and talk about other people. The three women beside me are all puckering up in front of the mirror, touching up their lipstick and checking themselves out. Making sure the hair is still perfect and the dress is sitting just right. And I just know there will be a bathroom selfie taken as soon as they are done.
I’ve never been to this bar before, and I had no idea how swanky it is. I am way out of my league for a Friday night out. Listening to the talk from these women, the bar Indulge is the playground of the rich and famous suits in the city. And of course, all the high-flying society girls who are either trying to snag themselves a man or playing the field before they settle down with the man they are “supposed” to marry, according to their family. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that kind of pressure. I’m in charge of my own destiny, and no one gets to make choices for me.
Just as I’m drying my hands and walking out, they start setting their pose for the selfie I knew would be happening. So predictable.
