Like Being in College Again

Sarah wrinkled her nose at me.  "Was it awkward?"

I shrugged my shoulders.  "Not really.  I was surprised, because Aaron never mentioned his mom was a lesbian.  I really liked her and her partner a lot."

I was straightening my hair, getting ready to meet Quinn and Rosa out at a bar.  They wanted to get drinks, and it was their last night in town.  They were flying out late afternoon the next day. 

Sarah was going along, too.  I had made sure they were okay with it.  I didn't want to feel like a third wheel.

"So, isn't it weird you never met or spoke with either of them, and his mom just randomly calls you?  Do you think it's really her?"  Sarah looked skeptical.

I laughed.  "This isn't some conspiracy theory, Sar.  Aaron told me his mom's name was Quinn.  He has a picture of his family at his house.  Like, an old family picture with his mom and dad in it.  Obviously it's really old, and in the picture her hair was darker, but I think it looked like her, from what I remember."

"Okay..." She still looked doubtful.

An hour and a half later we were at a "sophisticated" bar in Omaha, sipping martinis.  Since Rosa had never been to Nebraska, Quinn wanted her to see Omaha, since it was much bigger than Lincoln, and they were used to going out in Chicago, so Omaha was a bit more their speed.

I wasn't sure where the night was going to take us, so I was dressed to fit in (almost) anywhere in a romper and purple pumps.  Sarah was dressed similarly and Rosa and Quinn were in fitted tiny dresses.  I had a feeling they both always looked like they had just stepped out of a photo shoot.

We talked about Sarah's and my plans for the foreseeable future, what Quinn and Rosa do for a living (Quinn is a lawyer, Rosa is a podiatrist), and Quinn told us about Aaron's sisters.  She said they expressed wanting to meet me sometime, too, as she had called and told them about meeting me.  She said she didn't tell them before she left, as they would have tried to come along, and she didn't want to overwhelm me.

After a couple of martinis, they wanted to move on.  They said they wanted to go somewhere "interesting" and different from what they're used to, in order to people watch.  Sarah and I smirked at each other, because we knew just the place.  Quinn and Rosa said most of the places they go out to were high-class places, such as martini bars, jazz lounges, country clubs, etc.  Even though I (or rather, my parents) could afford to live like that, I didn't often.  I enjoyed those places, and would go with my parents or Zach and his family and sometimes my friends, but in recent years, I was more used to hanging out with my (financially challenged) college friends and going to honky-tonk dive bars for penny pitcher night.

Sarah and I laughed, reminiscing about such nights, and shared some stories with Quinn and Rosa as we drove to the next place.  Sarah and I had only been to the next bar twice.  Both times had turned into quite the experience.  The first time was when I was dating Derek, and we went with some of our friends and Derek.  Derek had gotten into a fight, because some guy didn't like the way I was looking at his girlfriend.  Or rather, she had called me some choice words in the bathroom because I had stumbled (thanks, alcohol!) into her when opening the door, and then when I got out, as soon as I was next to Derek, here comes her boyfriend threatening me, because I "looked at his girl wrong."  The second time, I was with Sarah and some girls from the track team, and a random girl sat down at our table, sobbing, and going through her phone showing us her "modeling" pictures.  AKA, her friend who was trying to start a photography business wanted to take modeling pictures because she was "so pretty she should be a model" and really they looked like a Wal-Mart studio had done them.  If Wal-Mart even had a photo studio.  But she didn't understand why none of agencies they were sent to weren't picking her up, and she wanted us to give her validation.  I guess.

I knew that I was way overdressed as we handed our ID's to the bouncer.  But hey, at least I wasn't alone.  This was one of the last bars in Omaha that allowed smoking inside, so we were all going to smell like an ashtray when we left, too.  I turned to see the looks on Rosa and Quinn's faces, and wasn't disappointed.  I laughed at the mixed expressions of awe and shock.  The bar is one floor, but three large rooms, doors separating them.  Karaoke takes place in the far right room and is usually an eclectic mix of people, the middle room (the one the door is attached to, so we had entered) was filled with people in their 50s, some wearing overalls, and playing country music.  The room to our left had a tiny dance floor completed with a "cage," tables, the lights down low, and played 90's and beyond rap music. 

It was only 10:50 p.m., so I knew the rap room wouldn't be super busy.  It wouldn't start filling up until closer to midnight.  I told them we could start in there.  We made our way to the bar.  I immediately ordered 4 shots of Goldschlager.  Quinn took it, thanking me, but Rosa seemed hesitant.  I shouted over the loud country music, "Trust me, you'll thank me later, and will make the night more enjoyable!"

We clinked shot glasses and downed it.  Then we got a couple of pitchers and made our way into the nearly empty rap room. 

When we sat, Quinn put her hand on my shoulder and said with a big smile on her face, "I didn't even know places like this existed!"

Rosa chimed in, saying that drinking like this and being around Sarah and I took her back in time and made her feel young again.  "It's like being in college again!."  She was grinning ear to ear, so I took it as a good thing.

Truthfully, I was a little concerned taking them to that bar that they really wouldn't have fun, but because they seemed "classier," I had gotten the impression from the conversations we'd had that they were wild in college and enjoyed stepping outside of their box every now and then.

Slowly, people started trickling in, and we watched and joked and talked.  Quinn and Rosa invited Sarah and I out to Chicago to visit sometime soon, and then I could meet Aaron's sisters.  About an hour later, we were a few pitchers in, and had done another round of shots.  We were all a little on the drunk side, and Quinn wanted to karaoke, so we stood to move to the karaoke room. I led the way through the now thickened crows.  I opened the door to the door to enter the country room.  I had my head turned facing behind me to tell Sarah to not lose the other two, and I ran hard into someone, stumbling back a couple steps, knocking into Sarah.  Her cup of beer spilled between us, sloshing us both with beer, her front and my back. 

The half-notdrunk side of me told me that it wasn't the person's fault I had run into, because I wasn't looking.  The half-intoxicated side of me said it was.

I whipped my head around, my eyes darting from the floor up the length of the person in front of me.  She was in sky high heels (not like my pumps, but think of platform stripper heels), a tiny skirt baring covering her vajay, and a crop top that was apparently see through in the black lights with her nipples half showing through.  Her icy glare let me know that as annoyed as I was with this situation, she was ready to take off her earrings and throw down.

She held up a hand at me and shouted, "Oh bitch, I can't even!"  And that's when I noticed the empty cup in her hand.  Well... no wonder why her crop top looked super see-through.  Not only was it white, but it was now very wet.

"Ummm..." I started.  The drunk part of me wanted to laugh, now.  The sober part was considering apologizing.

But before I could get out anything else, she turned to the man behind her.  "Tito, this bitch just dumped my drink all over me."

"Whoa, it was an accident-"

She acted like I hadn't even said a word.  "And THEN she laughed!"

My eyes widened.  I definitely did not laugh.  I may have been thinking about it.  I may have had a smile playing on my lips.  But I hadn't laughed.  Yet.

I looked at Tito.  He had on a lot of gold chains.  He was wearing a super tight shirt that was barely clinging together around his very defined muscles.  He sighed.  He looked me up and down.  Then rolled his eyes.  "I'll get you another one."

"But I wanna dance," she whined.

I was quickly sobering up and even more quickly losing any humor I'd found in the situation.

"Fine.  Jose or Lorenzo can get it."  He looked at me, pointedly.  "Excuse us."

I stepped out of the doorway, pushing Sarah back with my hand.  I glanced at Rosa and Quinn and they were a few feet behind, chatting, seemingly oblivious to what had just happened.  As Tito and girl walked past us, Tito turned behind him and called out, "Jose, Zo, one of you go get my girl another drink."

Two guys were coming through the door, with a few girls dressed similarly to Tito's girl.  The first one turned to the second one, "Zo, get another drink for Tito's girl, you're last in."  When first guy (Jose?) was through the door, the second guy (Lorenzo?) stopped to turn back and head to the bar.  But before he did, we made eye contact.

And we froze.

Aaron.