Looking Over My Shoulder
Introduction
It was just like any other Thursday Ladies Night when it happened. My best friend and roommate Penny dragged me out to the country music bar in our small college town where we are residing for the summer break. And here we are, three hours after arriving because Penny can't decide which of four men she wants to go home with. This is pretty typical of a move of Penny and I'm not sure why I still allow myself to be brought here almost every week.
"Penny, baby, are you ready to get out of here?" Hottie number three came back to where she and I were perched at the bar. He was gorgeous, looked to be some kind of Latino with a really cute face and tight butt. Otherwise, he was pretty average. Penny has done both better and worse than him at one of these weekly events. The main problem that Penny has with him is that he's wearing plaid, and she hates plaid.
"Oh Eduardo, we just got refills. Come find me when I'm running low and ask me again!" She kissed his cheek which I know is her move to keep them interested but not enough of a commitment to keep them if she finds someone better. And this is one of the biggest differences between Penny and I. She is confident and outgoing while I'm more timid and likely to keep my head near my drink. The guys are never lining up to talk to me, always Penny. Which I'm totally cool with because I am good without the attention. But it would be nice once to get genuinely hit on and not just by another guy's wingman so the original can land Penny. I hate the tag teaming.
"I'll be back, beautiful." He waves goodbye and leaves us to our full drinks. This is only the second of the night for both of us because we made it a pact when we first started doing this to drink one, then a water, and finally another drink if we lasted that long. Tonight was a long night by any stretch.
"Oh Pen, this is my favorite song to line dance to! Dance with me?" She furiously shakes her head, just as she always does so I head out to the dance floor alone to hit the beat of Chattahoochee. And because it's one I've danced to a million times, I zone out. I didn't notice the cosmic forces conspiring against me for when I finished the dance.
"Excuse me, Miss. You're a terrific line dancer. May I have your next one?" This comes from a man wearing a cowboy hat and a John Deere gray t-shirt with perfectly fitting jeans complimented by a pair of real cowboy boots. He has short cropped dark hair and he looked like a normal small town man.
"I only dance with people whose name I know. Maybe we can fix that." He took off his hat, offered me his hand before introducing himself.
"Bentley Porter. May I have this dance, and you're name?"
"Maggie Riley." I say this as I take his hand and let him lead me around.
"Penny, baby, are you ready to get out of here?" Hottie number three came back to where she and I were perched at the bar. He was gorgeous, looked to be some kind of Latino with a really cute face and tight butt. Otherwise, he was pretty average. Penny has done both better and worse than him at one of these weekly events. The main problem that Penny has with him is that he's wearing plaid, and she hates plaid.
"Oh Eduardo, we just got refills. Come find me when I'm running low and ask me again!" She kissed his cheek which I know is her move to keep them interested but not enough of a commitment to keep them if she finds someone better. And this is one of the biggest differences between Penny and I. She is confident and outgoing while I'm more timid and likely to keep my head near my drink. The guys are never lining up to talk to me, always Penny. Which I'm totally cool with because I am good without the attention. But it would be nice once to get genuinely hit on and not just by another guy's wingman so the original can land Penny. I hate the tag teaming.
"I'll be back, beautiful." He waves goodbye and leaves us to our full drinks. This is only the second of the night for both of us because we made it a pact when we first started doing this to drink one, then a water, and finally another drink if we lasted that long. Tonight was a long night by any stretch.
"Oh Pen, this is my favorite song to line dance to! Dance with me?" She furiously shakes her head, just as she always does so I head out to the dance floor alone to hit the beat of Chattahoochee. And because it's one I've danced to a million times, I zone out. I didn't notice the cosmic forces conspiring against me for when I finished the dance.
"Excuse me, Miss. You're a terrific line dancer. May I have your next one?" This comes from a man wearing a cowboy hat and a John Deere gray t-shirt with perfectly fitting jeans complimented by a pair of real cowboy boots. He has short cropped dark hair and he looked like a normal small town man.
"I only dance with people whose name I know. Maybe we can fix that." He took off his hat, offered me his hand before introducing himself.
"Bentley Porter. May I have this dance, and you're name?"
"Maggie Riley." I say this as I take his hand and let him lead me around.
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Here we go, I have quite a bit of this already written but want to see how it fares on the site.