“Hey, I dig a cheap beer every now and then,” I told him, slugging half of the beer down my throat, making an effort not to cringe. Mitch patted me on the back in genuine affection.
“Sure you do, Ri,” he teased and I had to smile at his use of a nickname. I hadn’t realized until then how being a part of a group could actually feel pretty darned good. It was a shot of warm fuzzies straight to the heart.
Gracie slung her arm around my shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re here, Riley!” She leaned into my arm and I could tell she was barely holding her head above water. I tried not feel annoyed by her drunken affection. Typically I took her need for a tactile interaction while she was drinking with a stiff upper lip. But tonight, after seeing her this afternoon with a certain someone, I was feeling a lot less charitable.
I glanced at Maysie, hoping she’d save me from Gracie on the drunk side, but she was entirely focused on Jordan who was cupping her face in his hands as he whispered something to her. I suppose I didn’t have to worry about her channeling Coldplay this evening. She seemed to be coping with her earlier freak out quite well…for Maysie.
Gracie poked my arm, still not lifting her head from my shoulder. “I think you should look for a boy tonight, Riley-Wiley! Let’s find you a fuck buddy!” Gracie singsong’d loudly and I nudged her off my arm.
“Let’s talk about the rapid deterioration of your motor functioning instead,” I said shortly, hoping that even through her drunken haze, Gracie could see she was touching on a very sensitive subject.
“Gracie, you need to freshen your lipstick. Here use mine,” Vivian intervened, shoving her tube of lipstick into our friend’s face. Gracie rubbed at her lips and took the offered makeup.
“Thanks Vivvie,” Gracie slurred, pulling out a compact. I looked over at the older girl and gave her a look of gratitude. She grinned and shrugged.
“So, I’ve never been here before. Why the sudden change in weekend venue?” I asked the guys. Cole didn’t acknowledge my question, seeing as he was much too busy shoving his hands up Vivian’s shirt. Apparently they were in one of their “on again” phases.
Mitch poured me another glass of beer before refilling his own mug. “They have open mic night on the first Saturday of the month. We’ve been coming here for the last two years,” Mitch said in way of explanation.
I looked around at the small crowd and turned back to Mitch in disbelief. “Is this place harboring the next Dave Matthews and I didn’t realize it?” I asked. Mitch chuckled and gave me a strange look.
“Not exactly,” was all he said.
I watched as the bartender went to the tiny stage and set up a microphone stand and a small amp. He didn’t announce the beginning of any act. He simply switched on the power and went back to his post behind the bar.
Slowly, a guy from the audience came up with a beat up electric guitar. He began to play a horribly out of tune version of All Along the Watchtower. I felt embarrassed for the poor man as he hit the wrong chord over and over again. His voice wasn’t half bad but it was hard to notice over the horrendous way he butchered his guitar.
No one clapped when he finished and I felt bad for him. Two girls came up next and sang some country song I didn’t recognize. They weren’t as bad as the last guy but they still sucked. Jeesh, this was becoming painful.
Nobody at our table was paying a bit of attention as the acts filed up one after another. They continued to chat amongst themselves and get more and more drunk. I was completely confused. I thought this is why they had chosen to come here.
I was about to ask what the deal was when Jordan got to his feet, put two forefingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle. Mitch and Cole joined him in a riot of cheering. Maysie was beaming as she got to her feet to clap.
I watched as someone made their way to the stage with a guitar case in hand.