NetNews Usenet Archive 1992 #31/NN_1992_31.iso/spool/alt/angst/5036

Internet Message Format | 1993-01-01 | 7.1 KB

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From: [e-mail] (Mr. Coates)
Newsgroups: alt.angst
Subject: My New Year's Eve
Message-ID: <[e-mail]>
Date: 1 Jan 93 16:33:05 GMT
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    I really had no idea what I was going to be doing for New Year's
Eve.  None at all.  Last year the krill & I hit a couple clubs and had
a so-so time.  This year, the krill were away with their girlfriend,
visiting Toronto, and hence, was not around.
    So, I woke up around 8pm, showered and dressed up in my nice
clothes, dressed to kill, so to speak.  And then I realized that I usually
dress like this almost every day, which meant that my chances of finding
any babes are about the same as most days.
    Which is to say, near zero.
    I got in my spiffy MR2 and drove off to a college bar called the
Wildcat House (Go Cats!  We're #22!  Rah, rah, rah!).  Here I had a long
island iced tea and a rum & coke.  A good start.  Didn't really feel any
buzz tho'.  There were many women here, and a surprising number were without
boyfriends, coming in pairs or packs of women.  At first, I thought this
was cool, but then I realized that I didn't really want to bed any of these
women, it was just, I dunno, below me somehow.  Like I couldn't deal with
getting close to someone who thought this black chick on a drum machine
music that passes fo top40 these days was actually good.
    There was a good point, at 10pm, when they did the national anthem;
that always lifts my spirits, for I'm fairly patriotic, and the sight of
many people holding their drinks up high and singing the country' song
always is something that can't be missed.  And they played the disco hit,
"Celebration", which also pleased me.  But after that, it was back to generic
music by generic black artists and I was left without much reason to stay.
    There were a few really hot babes; major cleavage exposure, even one
chick dressed in black leather and black lipstick.  I almost walked up to
her and said, "y0 babe, this ain't the right club for us.  Lemme take you
to a real club..." but I didn't.  Most of the women there were average
looking which would imply that it wouldn't be overly difficult to find one
who'd be willing to party.
    However, as I said, I just couldn't get into the mood.  So, I left,
at about 10:15pm.  I drove a few blocks over to the Fineline, the old
teenydoomerland of yore, where I have spent many angst-filled nights in the
past three years.
    Not many people were there.  I was afraid it would be a real drag,
a dull way to pass on to the New Year.  There were a lot more decorations
than last year, though, so I did not lose heart.
    I entered the bar section and had a couple of white russians.  I
decided to try a couple of games on the Neo-Geo; it failed to amuse me
though, so I quickly moved on to the pool table.  I watched this one young
couple play a game, and then they left.  I looked around for someone to
play with, but there were no takers, so I played a game of pool against
myself, for practice.  I considered doing this until Midnight, figuring
practicing pool is a good as any way of passing into the new year.
    After my second game, however, these two frenchmen moved onto
the table.  They spoke almost no English at all; I wondered what the hell
they were doing there.  So I managed to convey the idea to one of them
that they have to challenge me off the table before they could play.
    On my fourth shot, I sank the eight-ball.  It was as if I was
simply meant not to be playing pool.  Not wanting to fight fate, I shrugged
and retired from the table and moved onto the dance floor, the buzz from
all the alcohol finally kicking in.
    There were the few token good looking teenydoomers here and there,
and I stood and watched for a while.  I noticed one, in particular, dancing
on one of the 3' stages.  She was wearing this cute frilly blouse-dress
thing, and was swishing it around to the music.  Occasionally, I could
catch glimpses of her sensual abdomen, as she swished the blouse higher
and higher.
    A couple times, it was so high that it was above her black bra.
This really got my attention, and I focused the majority of my attention
on her for a while.
    But time went by and I was looking for other amusement.  An
irresistable song (by The Thrill Kill Kult) came on, and I found myself
compelled to dance.  To drunk to care, buzzed enough to enjoy the flashing
disco lights, and hit the dance floor and danced to the beat.  I was still
keeping, mind you, an eye on the cute chick up on the platform.
    A few songs pass, and the chick collapses from exhaustion.  She's
lying on the platform, and I come over and smile.  I manage to touch her
hand, and she grabs hold of it.  Without thinking, I kiss her, gently
at first, and then deeply as she gets into it.
    Well, to avoid boring y'all with details, we spent the next hour
doing dirty dancing, up there on the stage.  At times I was holding her
up entirely, she didn't weight much.  I guess she must have been around
16 or so.
    Oh, she was delightful to kiss.  She was really into it, and even
more wasted than I was.  As she humped my leg, I squeezed her ass, felt
up her chest... all while we were up on that silly 3' platform, in full
view of everyone.  I just didn't care, I was enjoying it too much.
    Midway through, this 15 year old blond girl walks by, hands
me a condom.  I wondered why for about three seconds, and then pocketed
it, returning my concentration to the armsful of girl.
    Midnight came, New Year's arrived, while we were locked in embrace,
kissing deeply.  This is easily the best way I've passed New Year's Eve
in my entire life.  I'll always remember it.
    About fifteen minutes later, we collapsed on the platform, still
kissing madly, when the calls of "get a room" and "go to a motel" started.
A member of the management then arrived and suggested we leave.  Heh.  I
asked the girl if she wanted to go for a drive, if she wanted to go outside,
but she didn't seem to hear me.  So, I led her outside anyway.
    I made it about 10 feet outside the exit, eighty feet away from
my car, when one of her fat girlfriends appeared, doing the samaritan role.
Sigh.  "Trish, we have to talk".
    The girl in my arms then said, "I have always loved you" to me.  I
let the fat girlfriend drag her away for her chat, and then after a few
minutes I realized she wasn't coming back.
    Given the choice of going back in the disco or driving away, I
chose the latter, as it might serve my reputation (what there was of it)
better.  So I left, and managed to drive home without crashing into any cop
cars.
    I suppose had I been more forceful and not allowed the fat chick
to drag her off, I would've been able to take the girl home and boink her
silly, and deal with the fun stuff the next day ("Who are you?  Where am I?")
but that didn't happen.
    Still, it was megafun while it lasted.  I plan on going back to
the club in hopes of seeing her again, to see if she remembers who I am,
and to get a second chance at taking her home.


Xibo