Extract #2

Beginning of extract

…I realize I probably look a bit sad sitting here by myself at a table, and attempt to rectify the situation by lighting a cigarette. Smoking always makes you look cooler, no matter what all those adverts may say. It’s also something to make me look busy and I can seem deep in thought as I stare blankly at the smoke being exhaled. I look up and see Stacie, a real belter who I went to school with. Sigh…Stacie Phillips. I haven’t seen her in ages and she’s really been looking after herself, I actually feel a bit of semi coming on and so I decide to stare at Hobgoblin Chick at the bar for about 20 seconds, until the feeling dissipates. Mild panic sets in as Hobgoblin catches me staring, and her attempt at a sultry smile suggests she thinks I’m somehow interested in her. I shake my head at her vigorously, giving her a stern look of disgust, leaving my powerful position as table holder to walk towards Stacie. In the corner of my eye I see the four mommies’ boys scuttling over to reclaim their table.

I have a little personality quirk where I never greet anyone first. I’ve always done this for as long as I can remember. It may be a deep-rooted insecurity, it may just be that I’m an arrogant prick, the truth of the matter is I flat out won’t acknowledge someone until they greet me first, a character trait which really pissed off the blind chick I dated once, as communication obviously became an issue.

I casually walk toward Stacie Phillips. She’s busy speaking to a burly, semi-good-looking guy, probably her boyfriend. I walk right passed her, glancing at some imaginary object on the far side of the club. Mmm, apparently she never saw me, at least I hope that’s the case. We weren’t best of friends at school, but we certainly knew each other and made out a few times in the old Science lab, I’m sure she’d greet me if she saw me. I’ll try again. I quickly look up and snap my fingers as if I’ve forgotten something and head back. I casually walk passed again, this time directly in her line of sight. I’m just passed her, when I feel a squeeze on my arm. I try and suppress a smile as I casually turn around. “Dave!” she says and gives me a big hug, her magnificent breasts nestling nicely on my manly chest. Stacie Phillips has always had magnificent breasts. Not too large, quite shapely and very perky. Back in high school, the girls were always jealous of Stacie Phillips’s breasts. “Why do they have to be so perfect?” they would say sadly, while stuffing tissues into their already padded bras.

“Stacie, how are you?” I say in mock surprise, giving no indication of how I’d pathetically planned this all up to now. She really is looking really good and I tell her as much. “Wow, look at you,” I tell her, “have you done something with your hair?” Girls like to be complimented on their hair, they are always trying new things with their hair so it’s generally a safe and wise option to say this. She confirms that she has done something with her hair, and then – although I didn’t ask – proceeds to tell me about her modeling assignment she did in Italy a few months back and how she’ll be jetting off to Paris soon. Ah yes, I’d forgotten about how much Stacie Phillips likes to talk about herself. I’m not complaining though, and I’m quite happy pretending to be interested, although I’m more interested in her bulging breasts which seem to be calling out to me. “Nuzzle me, nuzzle me Dave,” I can clearly hear them say. I have perfected a rapid eye movement technique whereby I can quickly look at a girl’s chest whilst talking to her and I now successfully carry this out. Her boyfriend is shifting around uncomfortably and is clearly threatened by my presence, which certainly boosts my ego, and I try and make him feel even smaller by turning my back to him, thereby cutting him out of the conversational circle.

Frankly I’m surprised he didn’t introduced himself as soon as I got there. He clearly underestimated me and thought I was one of those “club acquaintances” you always find at these places.

Club acquaintances, or “C.A’s” are a common breed. They’re the type of person you see every week and greet in a friendly yet impersonal manner. The type of person you might even make small talk with occasionally. C.A’s are primarily there to make yourself look good at a club or social event. There is nothing better than rocking up at a social gathering and having a few people greeting you or shaking your hand as you make your way around the place. It’s also mutually beneficial, the C.A’s inflating your popularity and you making them feel popular through association. (C.A’s are normally people who are not really popular. Extras in the night club of life if you will)

However, Stacie Phillips and I have been chatting for a while and it’s now reached that duration of time which would make it awkward for him to introduce himself, especially after standing around in our company for so long. His only option is to go to the bar and then come back from the other side so that I’m facing him, giving him a fresh start. He realizes this and silently slips off, no doubt mentally vowing to return with all guns blazing. Unfortunately for me, Stacie notices and realizing that she never introduced us, clearly feels bad. She ends our conversation with the plutonic “Anyway, I have to go now. We should really get together sometime. Cheers”. I agree with an enthusiastic “Definitely!” even though I don’t have a clue what her number is, and she dashes off after her man.

That didn’t quite work out according to plan, although I’m sure I’ll see her again soon though, hopefully without her man. He didn’t look all that wonderful to be honest and, judging by the way his jeans sat on him, I’m fairly confident that I have a bigger penis than he does, so I’m a little perplexed that he is actually banging her.

I light up another cigarette and head toward Shane and Ryan who are still on the dance floor, clearly revelling in this dank and stuffy place. I’m really starting to tire now, frankly I wouldn’t mind calling it a night. Also, I’m starting to get the munchies, and perhaps it’s time to jet off and buy some food. “Shane,” I say “I’m starting to get the munchies, perhaps it’s time to jet off and buy some food?” Although it sounded like a question it was quite clearly a command and Shane duly obliges. The two of them can’t complain about tonight though. They both had enjoyable evenings while I came up with the short end of the stick. I could try and rectify this by hanging around for another hour or so, and picking up a straggler. It hasn’t gone by unnoticed that Hobgoblin Chick has been hovering around my line of sight, and theoretically I could very easily have sex with her. I’m not too keen on anyone else knowing about this though, so some quick planning will obviously be needed.

End of extract