It was a moment of relative clarity. Two men dragging my unavailing body through an out-of-kilter swarm of pulsating lights. I could feel my heels dragging on the ground while I tried in a vain attempt to recall why they might be excising me. There were obvious signs—I could hear no more music, and the din of the crowd seemed to no longer be present. Why though? What incident had lead me to this point? And, why were the stars so big and bright and close? Why was I laughing like a schoolboy in the girls' locker-room?
There were so little clues I could seize upon. I recalled making plans with Theresa and Flora. They had wanted to dance—as did I. It was one of those spontaneous moments when we had just made a decision. After I hung up the phone, I had started with a celebratory drink. I was going to take a trip with the Captain, and he and his rum was the best way to start the night. It also helped that he was the only accomplice in my cabinet. There were at least three of those (or was it four?) before the girls showed up, all dolled up in pretty dresses, ready to invade the local club. Another one or two drinks were had before we left my place.
There was the trip to the bar as well. That was a fuzzy moment of time filled with the deep blue haze of cannabis smoke that inundated the interior of the car. I recall watching the ethereal fumes as they drifted in wispy, gossamer layers throughout the cabin of the SUV, where a gentle puff would cause the transient mass to ruffle in flux as it reformed into some other indistinguishable shape.
It was sometime between then and the bar that my mind began to become as soft and blurred as those vague layers...
More drinks. I remember those. Being covered with sweat after dancing—all the girls knew I loved to dance. It was only the salacious call of the alcohol kept me returning to the table. The girls kept tagging each other to dance, as if we were in some WWE match. At some point in time, there was rum and seven on the table and the floor. Did I try to lick that up? Did I lick Theresa's leg clean of it? Did I lick other legs? I don't remember licking rum, it was something fruity. Perhaps that was why I was being dragged away? No, none of those girls would have complained. At least, I don't think they would have...
Other voices struck my eardrums. I recognized Theresa's right away. It seemed as if she was giving instructions. Her voice was clear, but the words seemed like some other language. Could that other one be Flora? But wait a minute, I didn't recall anyone large enough to carry me being there.
Somewhere there, or was it perhaps here, I recollected a flash of Amy and Anna Banana, Christine and Wendy dancing as well, were they here? I tried to glance around, but my mirth and that outrageous chortle kept me from completion. Where was I going anyway? Where were all the girls? Where was my condo? Were we going somewhere? Would it be someplace where I could have more fun?
“What's going on?” I heard the words heavily slurred. It was my voice, that was for sure.
“Last call was an hour ago buddy.” That voice grumbled above me somewhere.
“God?” I said as I looked up toward the obscured face.
“We're just helping you out guy.”
I was in Theresa's SUV. It turned and weaved through town, undulating up and down and side to side in time with the music. Stairs, lots of stairs. Were those my hands in front of me? They seemed to be helping me climb. And, there was that laugh again. Jeeze, it made me laugh as well.
* * * * *
It was bright. I squinted at the sunlight, cursing it's existence and the pain it caused. Beside me, a body. I felt, it felt back, running fingertips across my chest and while a warm, sultry voice breathed in my ear.
“You sure lasted a long time past last call.”
