Friday Night

“On these shields, boys!” he yelled. The men around him cheered; adrenaline filled the room. The aroma of alcohol, hundreds of dancing people, tinged with the smell of smoke; the air a bitter cold from the draft climbing up to the upper tier. Brandon sat at the table – two drinks, four drinks, six – two girls entered – introductions made as Tasha & Sheena. Eight drinks, ten… More alphas enter & arrive to join the battle. Jordan, Dylan, Austin, Amanda, Ukraine#1, Ukraine#2; the night is just beginning. I keep my head clear, and my wits about me – sipping on water, as others indulge in there liquor.

I notice Brandon still has not awaken from his out of character hesitant state, so I take unwanted actions and lead him to the dance floor with Tasha & Sheena…it’s a nearly immediate transformation. Once made, I vacate the dance floor. Brandon takes charge, and soon it is 5 girls, 1 alpha dancing.

Hours pass – and I keep my attention between groups upstairs, and on the dance floor – and at times even swaying with the music…something usually kept to my non-responsive inebriated mind state.

An argument breaks out - & I enter the conflict area to assess the situation, and approach the source of discontent; few words are spoken before security & bouncers swarm the area. Of course, I’m approached first (obviously because I look so dashing & heroic; & they wanted to ask my opinion on how best to settle the uproar about to occur).

We enter the smoke pit, and discuss the eventful evening. Jordan is approached by a beautiful young female. Oblivious to the young girls advances; he walks away…I shake my head, and remind myself to explain the finer points of life to him at a later time.

Last call is announced…we exit the bar, jackets wrapped around us as the cold beats at us relentlessly. We enter the great carriage, once named “SuzieQ”, and we begin our adventure home. We sing great songs such as ‘Akuna Matata’ & ‘In the Jungle’ at the top of our lungs – the Ukrainians are backup vocals (Awimbawatawimawat aoooooo) as Dylan hits the higher notes (iiiin the jungle, the miiiighty jungle) like a bard of legends.

We arrive at our destination…farewells are spoken. When will such an evening occur again? Only time will tell…