"Are you going to shoot?" my friend looked at me like I was crazy, I had been eyeing a man in pleather pants since he walked in.
"Sorry" I bounced my ball against the side of the pool table and it went right back to the middle. I think my best friend Maggie assumed I had spaced out, I would never be caught staring at a man wearing not even tacky leather, but PLEATHER. He wasn't an attractive man, looked like a dead beat and failed musician from the Flock of Seagulls era.
"Listen, can we please go grab a drink, we have been playing for fifteen minutes and the exact same amount of balls are on the table" I looked down at our sad display of athleticism, and headed toward the bar.
We sat down in the middle of open seats so as to stay "available" and I leaned purposely and eaegerly over the bar to get the bartenders attention. He never asked what we wanted but simply tapped the bar as if we were regulars, I shyly went with a rum and coke while my Maggie went with her usual, a White Russian. Ever since she's seen the movie The Big Labouski, with her Ex she thought that a White Russian was a drink that would get a man's attention. I tried explaining to her that men seldom drink Kahlua, and that it does not make her a "bad ass", but she prefers to talk instead of listen.
We were in the middle of a conversation on her recent obsession gone vampire to wolves when he came and sat down right next to me. I stopped listening to Maggie and tried to look annoyed by his presence. He turned his body to me and just smiled in a very smug way, no words, just that stupid god-awful smile.
"pleather pants...really?" I decided to be the bigger person and break the silence
"I'm environmentally friendly, these are my 'save the cow' pants". His humor bugged me, his arrogance was insulting, and his style choices made my skin crawl. However he was the only source of entertainment aside from my grueling conversation on, witches? Oh I already forgot.
"I wouldn't have come here if I had known they just let anyone in" I tried to hide my delight in my flirtatious insults, but I think he knew he had me the minute he walked in.
"I come here a lot, but you knew that didn't you?"
"I haven't seen you in two years, I hardly go around plotting where you'll be boozing it up and embarrassing yourself by looking like a fifteen year old trying to rebel.
"I miss you" I was speechless. I couldn't throw any banter, I couldn't even breathe. "Stick around, I think you'll like the next show."
As he walked away, I replayed the conversation in my mind. Do I miss him? How could you miss someone with no ambition or future? Easy I suppose, the men with ambition treat you like shit, and he treated me like a goddess he so badly needed to win over. I heard Maggie talking in the background asking questions about the 'smelly man I had been talking to', but I was in a room halfway across country over four years ago.
"Tell me what you want?" His smoldering eyes were locked with mine and his hands grabbed my face. "I'll do anything"
"Make me hurt" I said softly, and before I could blink I was being thrown against the wall.