Elle wasn’t pleased with the way his hands felt on her exposed shoulders. He was like some sort of kitten playing with a ball of string. He kept pawing at her skin, reaching down and kissing her neck. The attention was welcomed at first but now, in this crowded concert hall it just seemed awkward. Elle felt like the eyes of the room were all over her as this complete tool bag dragged his hands all over her body. Elle wondered at what point she let herself get into this type of situation.
“Stop it,” said Elle to her older companion, Dave.
“Stop it? C’mon baby. I thought this music turned you on. I know it turns me on,” said Dave.
He continued to run his hands over Elle’s body. He pulled her close and she could feel through his pants that he was indeed turned on. Dave was 12 years older than Elle. He dressed like the current trends; he had sunglasses on the top of his head, at night. He wore a gold chain around his neck that poked through his black tight tee-shirt. He called it his muscle shirt and admired the way he looked in it. In every mirror, every chance he got.
“I’m just not feeling it tonight. Can we go get a drink,” asked Elle.
“Aw baby, c’mon, let’s just groove with each other for a while,” said Dave.
Elle rolled her eyes and pulled away from Dave’s touch and groin and fixed her short skirt. Dave had managed to slide it up to the point that it was barely covering much of Elle’s bottom. She felt a wave of disgust come over her. She was sorry she made out with him earlier. Now he just expected it. She walked toward the concert hall bar and caught the attention of the bartender. It wasn’t hard; bartenders always flocked to Elle because she was a rare beauty, that and she was showing a lot of cleavage.
“Vodka tonic,” ordered Elle.
Dave squeezed in at the crowded bar next to Elle and sat down. He pulled her close again and started kissing the back of her neck by her ear. Elle continued to just let him do what he wanted while she looked around the packed bar. She felt the judging eyes of the people around her. She thought she could see people’s lips forming words like, ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ as Dave continued to grope her. She shuddered.
“What’s wrong baby,” asked Dave.
He stopped kissing her long enough to notice that she wasn’t exactly in his sexual power.
“You don’t know do you,” said Elle.
“Know what baby,” asked Dave.
“How ridiculous you are,” said Elle, “and how ridiculous I am.”
Dave was looking at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He fixed the sunglasses on his head.
“I am not ridiculous. I’m hot. You know I’m hot. You like me. Just wait till we get out of here. The sex, now that’ll be ridic. I’m gonna to make your toes curl baby,” said Dave.
Elle realized Dave was actually talking to his own reflection in the mirror and not to her. He still had his hand on her butt though and he gave it a pretty hard squeeze. The bartender brought over Elle’s drink and looked at her right her eyes. It startled her. She couldn’t remember the last time a man looked her right in the eyes. She thanked the bartender and paid him. Dave couldn’t be bothered to pay for a drink. The bartender, with sweet brown eyes, nodded and smiled at her and walked away without a word. Elle picked up her drink as Dave started gnawing at her shoulder.
The cold drink wasn’t enough to cool the bubbling rage Elle was suddenly feeling and she wanted nothing more than to just go home and crawl into her bed and hide away from the world forever. Dave said he had to urinate in an elegant fashion.
“I gotta piss,” he said.
He got up and moved through the bar, checking out the other women as he walked to the washroom. Elle moved into the seat he left vacant. She considered that he didn’t even offer the chair to her. He just sat down. As soon as she settled into the uncomfortable bar stool the vultures appeared. They swarmed her out of nowhere.
“Can I buy you a drink”, asked vulture number one.
“Are you a model,” asked vulture number two.
“My friend thinks you’re the hottest chick in here and he wants to know if you’ll screw him in the bathroom,” said vulture number three.
“No thank you.”
“I was, still trying.”
“My boyfriend will be right back,” responded Elle to the vultures.
They continued to circle her and were clearly undressing her with their minds. Elle pulled her skirt down over her legs a little more and looked away and to her own reflection in the mirror. Her reflection was tired. Tired of being a thing.
“You ready to see this show,” said Dave as he returned from the bathroom.
The vultures scattered as Dave put his hands on Elle’s shoulders. He leaned in to kiss her neck and nibble her ear. Elle pulled away.
“Take me home. I don’t feel well,” said Elle.
“What,” asked Dave.
“Take me home or I’ll take a cab. I don’t care. I want to go home,” said Elle.
“Do you know how much I spent on these concert tickets? You owe me,” said Dave.
“A cab then,” said Elle.
“Whatever, slut,” said Dave and he walked away from her at the bar.
Elle stood up and started for the door. She looked back and saw the brown eyed bartender watching her. He waved. Elle didn’t wave back. She opened the door to the concert hall and hailed a taxi.