FAÇADE, 12
I’m frozen, one hand still out in front of me. I reply, “Sure, man. Let’s do that. Please don’t do anything stupid, all right?”
He nods. “It’s not me I’m worried about,” he says.
From our barstools we can see all of the clubbers have sex with clothes on, otherwise known as “dancing.” The scene here is a melted series of silhouettes and vibrant colors with a complete stench of body spray and sweat, cigarettes and regret. Drinks spill as the clubbers rub against each other and exchange desperate smiles.
I signal for the barkeep underneath the rain of neon lights. He waves his index finger “one moment” at me and finishes mixing drinks for a couple of women at the other end of the bar.
“What can I get for you fellas?” he asks when he finally arrives at our end.
Before we can order, Ray darts his head in the direction of the dance floor, where in the center of ecstasy and confusion, Emily moves around by herself.
The light above her brings Emily to focus, and Ray pursues.
I ask him where he’s going, and he doesn’t so much as look back at me.
“All right,” the barkeep says, “What can I get for you?”
I order the safe and classy: Rum n’ Coke.
The barkeep turns away to make the drink, when my attention centers on a brunette woman scooting closer to me. She arrives at the stool next to mine within a matter of seconds. “Don’t tell me a handsome guy such as yourself is here by his lonesome,” she says behind tectonic violet eyes and over-glossed lips.
“I’m with him,” I say as my index finger searches for Ray.
He nods. “It’s not me I’m worried about,” he says.
From our barstools we can see all of the clubbers have sex with clothes on, otherwise known as “dancing.” The scene here is a melted series of silhouettes and vibrant colors with a complete stench of body spray and sweat, cigarettes and regret. Drinks spill as the clubbers rub against each other and exchange desperate smiles.
I signal for the barkeep underneath the rain of neon lights. He waves his index finger “one moment” at me and finishes mixing drinks for a couple of women at the other end of the bar.
“What can I get for you fellas?” he asks when he finally arrives at our end.
Before we can order, Ray darts his head in the direction of the dance floor, where in the center of ecstasy and confusion, Emily moves around by herself.
The light above her brings Emily to focus, and Ray pursues.
I ask him where he’s going, and he doesn’t so much as look back at me.
“All right,” the barkeep says, “What can I get for you?”
I order the safe and classy: Rum n’ Coke.
The barkeep turns away to make the drink, when my attention centers on a brunette woman scooting closer to me. She arrives at the stool next to mine within a matter of seconds. “Don’t tell me a handsome guy such as yourself is here by his lonesome,” she says behind tectonic violet eyes and over-glossed lips.
“I’m with him,” I say as my index finger searches for Ray.
