Monday, September 1, 2008

Dancing With Destiny


Picture me if you will. Sunday night. Stars looking down upon me. Music playing. Vodka dripping on my shoes. I am the very picture of suave. My eyes have that half closed Lawrence-of-Arabia look which creeps upon me late and secretly. In one hand I clutch a fresh vodka tonic, in the other a half smoked Marlboro Light. In my mouth there is also a half smoked Marlboro Light. Another half smoked Marlboro Light appears to be in the ashtray to my left. Around the room women visibly struggle to resist my allure. It says a lot for the women at this bar that they have so far succeeded. But as the evening wears on I can see them struggling, like dolphins caught in a net.

One woman has approached. 'You've got vodka on your shoes,' she said. Words can mask the strongest feelings. When you're as in tune with the female psyche as I am you see beyond the mere words.

'I know,' I relied, and winked at her. She understood, gave a little nervous snort that people nearby may have mistaken for disgust, and melted back into the crowd.

Barely 3 hours had flown by after that encounter when out came Destiny. Destiny wore a frock. She wore a frock made of the purest silk. Little silken holes gave glimpses of flesh that would have sent a weaker man to his knees. She was a woman who knows. 'Destiny,' I whispered.

'You're drunk,' said Destiny.

I've seen it so often. The way women conceal their desire behind abuse. I merely smiled my knowing smile and swayed to my own special internal rhythm. I would let Destiny take her course. She removed the fourteen cigarettes from my smoulderingness and with a voice that could melt Everest said 'Lets dance.'

I allowed myself to be led to the dancefloor, pausing only to trip over a potted plant. Space cleared immediately on the dancefloor, due mainly to awe at my prowess.

I dance for keeps. I may have drawn Destiny's blood. Words were unnecessary. Nevertheless, as I lurched on the spot, Destiny would murmur to me, 'Ow,' she'd say.

Somehow when the music stopped playing Destiny and I were separated. But it didn't mater. We had formed a bond that could not be broken. Thirst and exhaustion took me first to the bar and then to a table outside where I lit another refreshing, delicious Marlboro Light. I may have fallen asleep at some point.

If there is a moral to this tale it is in the ending. I awoke. Destiny had departed. So I pashed a girl named Clair.

3 comments:

Selma said...

I do love a man who calls dresses 'frocks.' Just for that I am prepared to overlook the vodka on your shoes and your propensity to leave a trail of half-smoked Marlboro lights in your wake!

Ju said...

I too have seen you in this state of irresistability....I have had to grab the wrists of my friends to stop them being pulled into your whirlwind of an aura.
Special special man. I hope Clair was a good kisser..

Kate said...

Blimey.
You sound irresistible.
I miss Marlbro lights.
I hope there's hope for Claire and that there's potential for her not to be taken to a public place, to be denied dessert and then dumped.
You get me?