So we got into the club after an hour or so in line. I never thought we could pull it off. For one, they call me “baby face” so the bouncer was probably gay and liked me or we actually did look old. The next hurdle to jump was getting alcohol. I’d do that. I’m such a sweet talker. No girl can resist the tongue of ol’ baby face, especially WTH over there. WTH was the nickname practically everybody called the new hot bartender here. Raunchy Sam’s brother, Mick, started it. He’s in college. The first time he saw her, he was like “WTF? WTH!” and it just stuck. By the way, WTH means “Way Too Hot.”
Anyway, apart from the fact that people my age want to go clubbing if they’re sharp enough, Sam had the darnedest idea that tonight was his night. He really believed that he’d find a beautiful older woman that was desperate and horny enough to sleep with a minor…a virgin minor. But, he actually might just be lucky tonight. Sam has this habit every like once in four months when he gets very determined about something and he always succeeds. Always!
So Sam needed to be gingered to achieve his “must get laid” goal. So, we came with his soccer team disciples. At school, they call them the “wolf pack.” That’s because they are the meanest group of soccer strikers in our district. They’re really good, and most especially because they go almost everywhere together in the wake of Raunchy Sam and his best friend, yours faithfully. I’m not even on the darned soccer team. I play basketball. The wolf pack’s cool though. They’re James Patel, left wing; Oscar Vaart, A.K.A fart face, right wing; Onome Idisi, midfield, and last, surely not the least as is the largest, our smart half Italian, half Chinese counterpart, Johnny Yu, midfield.
So we took to what we knew best. I went to get the drinks. Sam went to talk to a strapping woman at the bar. The other four went scouting for the drunkest loneliest women in the club. They might just get lucky. Way-too-hot was gorgeous. I just had to flirt with her. I thought it was working till she did the same thing to EVERYONE ELSE at the bar. Then, she asked for identification so I handed over my fake ID. Thank goodness for dark and strobe lighted clubs. I got the red bull and vodka cocktails and made my way to a seat at the corner closest to the V.I.P. Out of nowhere came the gang, each snatched a glass for themselves.
“Have any success?” I asked sarcastically. Of course, they hadn’t but I just had to ask to have a laugh. They all shook their heads. But someone was missing.
“Where’s Oscar?” asked Sam, with a smile on his face, like one of his soldiers had accomplished their own mission. The funniest thing happened just then. We turned towards the V.I.P and saw some very short dark haired individual curled in a ball get hurled through the curtains onto the floor.
“Oscar, you short bastard, are you trying to get us caught?” James asked angrily in his suave Indian accent.
“We’ve got to go guys.NOW!” Oscar replied. His voice was petrified.
“What did you do, you little shit? I’m all mind-made-up about getting laid tonight.” Sam said with a little too much “I’m really pissed off” in his tone.
“Well, there was a hella fine shawty in there so I snuck in. I got her number too. But, unfortunately, that happens to be a boss’ girlfriend” Oscar answered in defence.
“Which boss?” I asked.
“Some dude called Milo Fratelli. Milo doesn’t even sound gangster.” Oscar replied laughing.
“We are so de-“
The sound of deafening gunshots reverberated around the room. The word, chaos, comes to mind. The DJ had stopped the music and bailed for his life. All the lights were on now and we could see people running helter-skelter trying to get out of the club. Johnny shouted,
“Follow me!” I yelled as I ran for the fire alarm.
As I pulled it down, sirens begun to blare and the sprinklers came on.
“Run to the toilets. Use their windows to get out,” said a voice.
We all turned and saw the almost goddess-like bartender. So, we did exactly as she said but as I tried to run with the others, someone tugged on my jacket. It was she.
“Follow Me,” she whispered in my ear and she dragged me off behind the bar and through the back door out into an alleyway.
On getting outside, she put my back against the wall and gave me this deep stare for what seemed like an hour but was merely a second.
“How old are you really?” she asked tentatively, “I know you’re a minor but I hope you’re not underage”
I feigned a smile and said,
“I’m twenty one, just like on my ID”
“C’mon! Babyface spill the beans! Are you ’91 or older.”
“Okay! ’ 91!”
And then she kissed me. I was in shock. I thought she was about to beat me up or hand me over to the cops. Now, here I am, wet and kissing the hot bartender in the alleyway. The kiss lasted for about five seconds. Sadly, I was counting. I guessed it would be something I could boast about. Even raunchy Sam’s older brother couldn’t get way-too-hot. And he’s a legend in this town when it comes to girls, in fact, practically everything.
“So, baby face, you’re coming with me.”
Who am I to disagree with way-too-hot? Of course, I followed her. We took a walk. Her apartment wasn’t too far from Poise (the Club) but it took us about an hour to get there. We talked for so long, we weren’t even ready to go in…yet. Way-too-hot’s real name was Charlotte Johnsen. She was from Amsterdam and was majoring in English Language in some college, can’t remember the name though.
By the time, we got to the front steps to her apartment building it was already one in the morning, my curfew. My mother would be calling any time from now so I switched off my phone. C’mon! You understand, don’t you? This is way-too-hot I’m talking about here. She led me up the steps, pecked me on the cheek and said goodnight. I was happy though but a bit confused. I thought there’d be a lot more tonight. She shut the door on my face and I turned around to get home when I heard a whisper from the door.
“You didn’t really think I was going to let you go, did you?”
So, I turned around and before I knew myself, I was in her apartment. A couple things happened but I guess I’ll keep that gist for you for later.