“ID?”
I’ve always been several months older than most in my high school, so when I graduated and moved here, I was almost nineteen. My birthday came and went last month with no fanfare except for presents and calls from Mom and Dad. I still look sixteen, to some, even with the light makeup I put on, hoping it would make me look more my age. Apparently that didn’t work. I’m glad, at least, Johnny’s serves to eighteen years olds and up. I could use a cold beer. With an inner sigh, I remove my license from my small clutch purse and hand it to the large muscular man before me and watch his eyes scour it. Without saying a word, he hands it back to me and cocks his head toward the door, telling me I passed his inspection and to go inside. A man of few words but none are needed. Just the looks he gives tells you he means business with those muscular biceps and beefed up chest.
I walk inside, the lights dim except the dance floor. Other than the entrance, it’s a wide open floor plan. Rows of tables and booths on either side, encasing people dancing. It excites me since I’m studying graphic design and hope to be an architect one day. I notice everything in great detail. It’s almost like a disco, with each tile of the dance floor brightly lit and a different color. I look up at the lights over it, those same colors flashing down around the floor. Excitement swells inside me as I walk around the large packed room, no empty tables to be found. Just as I begin to walk past a small table near the dance floor, a guy stands and waves his hand at his seat, offering me his table. Smiling at him, I sit down, wondering if he is making a move since he so graciously gave me his table. Instead, he smiles back, gives me a small nod, and walks away. One thing I do enjoy is people watching. Yet, the only way to do that is to be out where there’s people, something I find hard to do.
The room is filled with music. Sounds of today’s music, mixed with some classic rock, changing to an oldie, can be heard, while people chatter and laugh and others enjoy the beat of the music on the dance floor. I take in everything, feeling more excitement growing as I watch a small group of people doing a line dance, laughing, enveloping themselves in the music. That looks like fun. The atmosphere is exhilarating and I find that underneath the table my leg is bouncing to the beat. I continue looking around the room. A large bar is off in the distance, with people stacked in rows waiting to order drinks. Off to the left are the restrooms with more people standing around talking, drinking, laughing, and there’s even girls dancing in groups while chatting. Then my eyes move around the wall and to the end of the bright dance floor. There’s a wooden DJ booth made to match the bars décor but the top is encased with thick plastic. No doubt for protection but making it difficult to see who’s inside. Maybe that’s a good thing for whomever is in there. I can barely make out the movement, but my eyes are glued to the booth. A girl walks up to it, and I watch as a sliding door on this side moves open. Her mouth is moving, smiling, as she tries to act sexy, flipping her hair and cocking her hip. Must be a guy DJ. I start to roll my eyes…
“You look like you’re in deep concentration.”
I look up to see a nice looking guy standing next to the table. Short red hair, freckles adorning his cheeks and nose, green eyes that glow from the bouncing lights from beside him and white teeth illuminating from his smile. “Want to dance?” Do I? I haven’t seen the girls yet, and I’ve had no liquid courage. I love to dance, be enthralled by the music, feeling the beat from the vibration on the floor, and bask in the excitement of the atmosphere. But am I ready to do it right now? “I see you’re perplexed in making a decision.” I open my mouth to speak when the music stops, the silence magnifying the sounds of laughing, talking and footsteps. I look over at the dance floor when the sexiest voice resonates from the speakers. My eyes snap to the DJ booth.
“Welcome to Johnny’s! I’m DJ West! I see you all are already having a blast. Speaking of blast – here’s a blast from the past. Let’s set this place on FIRE!”
Donna Summer’s voice booms around the room with “Hot Stuff” and a crowd gathers on the dance floor. I watch in fascination as they start moving together in rows yet they aren’t really dancing yet.
“Sorry. Gotta go.” I look up at the guy still standing by my table. “Another time.” He winks as he turns and starts for the dance floor. Looking over his shoulder, he yells over the music, “I’m Cian.” He winks again, and I watch him step down into the bright lights on the dance floor, turning around so I only see his back side, and he begins moving to the music with the others. Yet, as he starts to do a line dance, the others follow. Odd. It’s like they were waiting for him.
“Wow! This is so nostalgic!”