Will

Will got to the club at 9:30, an hour early. He wasn’t used to the scene, and since Abram invited him out, Will wondered if it was out of pity or wanting to bond. Abram had been working at St. Elizabeth’s for six years, and said that this particular club was where all the easy 30-something women were, because of the free rail mixers from nine to eleven every retro-80’s Thursday night.

So Will found his Docs in the back of his closet, put on his best faded Levi’s and black leather jacket, and tried to get his look right. Not only was he trying to impress Abram, but now there was the added pressure of needing to at least score a couple of phone numbers in order not to look like a loser.

It was with much nervous energy that Will paid the cover charge, got his hand stamped and went into the club. He was early, but thought that instead of making him look desperate, it would better his chances of scoping out which chicks had been drinking the most for the longest. As he stepped up to the bar, he saw a pretty 20-something in a black tank top and jeans. Short hair, but that doesn’t mean she’s gay, does it? Does it?

He walks up to introduce himself while ordering a drink. The bartender is a large black man who started out as a bouncer here. Abram told Will this morning to drop his name to Howard as he ordered drinks, and said Howard would make them stiffer.

“Hey, Howard. Abram will be along later, I’m Will,” he stammers, wondering if this will work, as the pretty girl plays with the straw on her cocktail.

“Good for Abram,” Howard grunted, “What’ll it be?”

Wanting to seem continental and suave, and impress the woman, he says, “Vodka martini, shaken,” and with a glance at the girl said, “and whatever the lady here would like.” The lady laughs.

Howard says, “The lady likes her free rail mixers til 11 pm, bro,” and laughs.

Will turned red, paid for his drink and walked away. Strike one. What an idiot, he thinks. Maybe if I have a couple of drinks I’ll calm down by the time Abram gets here. Relax. He goes to find a table as the DJ spins what may be Will’s anthem this evening, How Soon is Now? by the Smiths.

Howard keeps looking at Will, shaking his head and laughing. He should be entertaining to watch at least, pouncing on each fresh gazelle like an overeager lion cub, and getting shot down by his own overzealous incompetence.

Will decided to play it cool and not wait for Abram at the table nearest the front door. He didn’t want Abram to think he was too eager for him to get there, but the truth was, he regretted getting there early. He couldn’t be sure, and maybe was just paranoid, but Will swore that barkeep was laughing at his expense.

New arrivals! Another chance. Two fat girls and an anorexic friend. Hmm. Which one to pick? He knew he could get numbers from at least one of the larger ladies, but he also knew he’d get flack for that. Abram would ask whose number it was, and he’d have to tell him. If he fabricated the numbers and lied about it, saying the lady left early, she’d be some kind of nerd, wouldn’t she? Or non-existent. No way to win. Maybe it would be best to wait, play like he was the strong, silent, deep-thinking type and let the happy hour drinks work their magic and try later. Or insist his theory was the macho, “I let them come to me,” variety that men use when they really don’t have the confidence to go after a woman and need an excuse. He thought about another drink, then thought he should slow down in case Abram is late. Wouldn’t do to get drunk before the boss got here.

Abram finally arrived at 10:15. By then, Will was on his third martini and looking fairly confident, sititng at a table in the middle of the club. Abram would suggest moving to a corner table or somewhere more private. The middle of the room wouldn’t do, not for what he had planned. Abram smiled a hello and walked up to where Will was seated.

“Been here long?” he asked.

“Uh, no, not really, Seems to fill up pretty quick here during the happy hour.”

“Oh, yeah,” agreed Abram, “Just wail til ten to eleven, when the bar is three deep with women looking for the last free drinks, double-fisting it! I like to sit by the fountain near the restrooms about 11:30, can usually scope out some victims there around then.”

Will thought that was very smart, and said, “That sounds great. Need a wing man?”
Abram said, “Sure, I can always use a good wing man!”

Abram bought the next two rounds of drinks while scoping out some of the action. Will would do nicely, he thought, a bit naive but easily taught and willing to help. A blank slate.

“So how do you like the job so far?” asked Abram.

“So far, so good,” said Will, starting to feel a very strong buzz from those martinis by now. “I like the hours, and the whole ‘helping people’ aspect of the job is pretty cool. People seem nice.”

Yes, very nice, thought Abram. “Just wait til you get to know us all better, you’ll love it there.”

The clock ticked by quite rapidly, what with the feel-good 80’s hits that just kept coming, watching the people dance and check each other out, and drinking. Abram and Will staked out a spot at the fountain around 11:30. The ambience was very post-modern. Candlelit tables nearby in alcoves, and the fountain itself had hollowed-out television sets used as fishtanks, with lonely goldfish swimming pensively in the hulls.

Abram leaned over to Will and said something in his ear, but with the music blaring, the bottles and glasses clinking behind the bar and the women waiting in line for the bathroom, Will couldn’t quite make out what it was Abram was trying to say.

“What?”

“I said…” replied Abram, again muffled, and on purpose.

“What? I’m sorry, can’t hear you over the music!” shouted Will.

Abram laughed. This was too easy. Going in for the kill, he baited the hook again. “I said, you won’t feel a thing!”

“What?” said Will, really not getting it.

“Move closer!” yelled Abram.

Will did. And he found out that he really didn’t feel a thing. That happens sometimes when one has been drugged, duped and dined upon. Abram took one very quick, swift nip to Will’s neck, right under his ear, kissed it clean quickly and then said, “Come on, let’s find some chicks!”

Will shook his head, thinking he had just come out of a drunken daze, spacing out on the fishtanks. “Yeah, lets go.”

There was an art-school cool kid waiting in line for the bathroom. She was the kind who tries too had to be different, lipstick garishly scarlet and intentionally smudged, black liner rimming her eyes, Docs so new they squeaked and hurt her feet, but damned if she wasn’t going to go out and dance by herself and be miserable all night long in public!

“There,” said Abram, arching his left eyebrow in reference to the wanna-be hip goth girl. “Fresh meat! Desperately in need of some male attention. Watch me operate, wing man!”

Abram extracted a clove cigarette from his jacket, and lit it. He walked up to the goth girl.

“What’s your name, candy?”

“Who wants to know?” snapped the goth girl.

“Uh, I do. I asked, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, so what,” she snarled, teenage angst carried into her late twenties.

“So. You want a drink? Clove?” asked Abram, offering his best deep-eye stare.

“Uh, no thanks, I got my own back at my table,” said the girl, even though she was wearing down because this man talking to her was the finest she had ever had attention from.

“My friend there by the fountain, he was too shy to talk to you or ask your name, but he really likes you.”

“Lenore. You know. like the Raven.”

“Ahhh, Lenore. Beautiful. Unique. Like you,” Abram said, playing her right into his net.

“Thanks,” she blushed, She was intrigued. Her roommate was wrong, some hot guys really DO like the quiet girls!

“Listen,” said Abram,” I have been dying to draw you since I saw you on the dance floor.”

“Really?!” she squeaked, unbelieving and taken by surprise. “Cool, I’ve never been drawn before,” she gushed.

Oh this is too easy, thought Abram, Easier than Will. Will these mortals never learn not to trust a stranger?

Hook. “Why don’t you meet me and my friend there by the fountain when you come out, and we can have a drink and talk some more, make some plans?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I have to work early tomorrow, I was just gonna go home,” said Lenore. He read her like a book at the library where she worked hiding behind stacks and ugly black Morrissey glasses.

Line. “It won’t take long, c’mon! One drink! My friend really thinks you’re cute, and I really do want to add your portrait to my collection. You have such an ethnic beauty.” Gets the white girls every time, he thought, as he flashed her his most dazzling smile.

Sinker. “Oh, OK. I’ll be right back. Don’t have any X, do ya?” she looked up at him and for a moment, looking into her little Souxsie eyes, he felt bad, almost guilty, it was so easy.

“Oh yes, the candy store is always open,” he said with a devilish grin. Lenore walked away with a spring in her uncomfortable step and thought, “That was so easy! Men are so transparent!”

Abram sauntered back to the fountain, three drinks in his hands. He had quite a smile on his face, and was greeted by Will’s exclamation of: “You dog! You got her!”

“Of course,” said Abram, “Get ready, wing man. She thinks YOU like her.”
“Oh man! You’re the best, you got her for me, thanks, man! That’s too easy!”
“You don’t know the half of it,” said Abram, and for once, he looked old.

Lenore stumbled out of the stall, washed her hands and ignored the laughing looks of the other women. Even they knew she was trying too hard to be different. But Lenore didn’t care. She wiped off her old lipstick, reapplied within the lines this time, smoothed her jet black pageboy and readjusted her breasts. “Here I come,” she whispered to her reflection, and left the ladies’ room.

“Here she is!” cheered Abram, in almost a sing-song. “You look like a Cape Cod girl, am I right?”

“You know me well already,” said Lenore. She already had six of these under her insubstantial belt, as she was not even five and a half feet tall.

“So what’s your name?” she asked Abram.

“Zac,” replied Abram. He smiled at Will and winked, but Lenore was busy fumbling for her lighter so missed the exchange.

“I’m Daniel,” said Will, offering a light.

“Nice to meet you both,” Lenore muttered, clove clamped firmly between her lips. She was getting the undivided attention of not just one man, but two, and they were both handsome, although she thought Zac was more charming.

“Excuse me, please,” Will said, “Nature calls, I’ll be right back.” Will was feeling dizzy and the lights from the dance floor were starting to give him a bit of a headache, but no way was he leaving now.

“Of course,” said Lenore, and Abram nodded. Time to get to work. Abram leaned in to Lenore and said, “You know, we both think you’re cute, why don’t you come back to my loft? We can continue the party, see what my candy store has to offer you.”

Lenore considered this and in her drunken state, it did sound like fun. She feebly attempted to do the right thing and said, “Um…I have an early morning.”

“Call in sick! C’mon, you probably never use sick days, let alone for hooky!”

Lenore laughed, and glad to go along with Abram, said, “You’re right. I have yet to call in sick.”

“Why don’t we dance, and you can think about it,” said Abram, knowing he had her already but backing off to make her come to him of her own free will. This one will need a bit of finessing, he thought, time to turn on the charm.

When Will returned to the fountain, Abram and Lenore were gone, but he spotted them on the dance floor. He noticed Lenore’s ugly black patent purse on a nearby table, and took a seat. He was still a bit lightheaded, but thought it was the martinis talking, so he went up to the bar to order a Coke. Howard saw him coming and started mixing another martini right away, and since he didn’t want to be laughed at again by the surly bodybuilder, Will just took the drink and paid, leaving a nice tip. Howard shot him a wink and a smile, so he felt like he did the right thing. He’d nurse this one, or maybe it would give him the extra liquid courage he needed to score with Lenore.

Abram and Lenore returned to the table and were waiting for Will when he returned from the bar. Lenore was laughing and flirting with Abram when she saw Will approach the table and take a seat.

“Have a good dance?” he asked.

“Oh yes, very nice indeed,” replied Abram, smiling. “Why don’t you take her out for a spin, she’s great!” he said, nodding his head in Lenore’s direction as she giggled, giddy from the attention and alcohol. She was playing with the straw in her Cape Cod and making eyes at Will, ready it seemed for another challenge.

“I would be delighted,” said Will, and offered her his hand as he stood up slowly, trying not to sway with the buzz.

“Of course!” said Lenore, no longer able to play it cool. She was getting heady from the alcohol and feeling very sure of herself, now that she had the lust of both men playing up her ego. They walked out to the dance floor as Bizarre Love Triangle by New Order came on, which was oddly fitting here. Abram noted the irony and laughed almost hysterically, shaking his head with the perfection of the music. He waved at them as Lenore looked back over her shoulder as she danced, and smiled.

He also took the liberty of dropping a couple of GHB he scored on the way in into her drink, just to help seal the deal.

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Tags:

80s, goth, retro, vampire and will