| Straight: Lusty Liaisons: Beale St. (1/7) |
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“Lindsey, wait up!” I yelled after my best friend as we made our way through the unyielding sea of bodies that flowed with the speed of a glacier down Beale Street. This was Beale Street on a Saturday night, I thought. We knew what we were getting into when we made our plans. I caught up to her, and grabbed her hand. The crowd in front of Silky’s was getting unruly. A bunch of guys, already drunk even though the night was still very young, were trying to feed beer to the goat. Or was it a shot of something? I couldn’t tell. Poor goat. Why the bar owners had decided to have goats next to the patio I hadn’t a clue. We passed by them without a second glance and continued on through the masses. I held on tightly to her hand as we wended our way in and out of clusters of people. “Slow down! I almost lost you, chickie,” I scolded. Lindsey laughed. “Charlie, you have to keep up. They are waiting for us at Pat O’s and we’re already late. If you hadn’t taken so damn long to get ready, we wouldn’t have to fight this freaking crowd.” She stuck her tongue out at me and started walking even faster. I sighed and did my best to keep up in the heels that I was now wondering why I had worn. She did have a point, although both of us had equally taken great pains with our appearances this particular evening. It wasn’t just me. I blamed her, though, because she set me up on this stupid blind date with her boyfriend’s best friend. She swore he was cute and that we would hit it off, but I was pretty skeptical. I have always been quite picky about guys and a blind date wasn’t my idea of a great way to spend my Saturday night. Nonetheless, I figured it wouldn’t hurt if I looked my best. That way, even if I weren’t attracted to him, he would still be head over heels for me. The evil ways of the female mind…What are you going to do? So I wore my cutest outfit, a silky black halter top that showed off my boobs to their best advantage and made my waist look smaller. I also wore my best pair of ass jeans. Never did my ass look better than when it was in these jeans. The makeup was flawless, my eyes were sparkly and mysterious and I was having an amazing hair day. I’m not one to usually toot my own horn, but this particular night I had it all. Part of me couldn’t wait to show it off. I felt sexy and I wanted to flaunt it. There was an old man sitting outside of Pat O’Brien’s when we got there who was playing the guitar and singing. His guitar case was open in front of him and people were throwing money in. I smiled to myself when I realized he was playing No Woman, No Cry by Bob Marley, one of my favorite songs, and I threw a couple bucks into his case. He nodded at me and kept playing. Lindsey and I handed our ID’s to the doorman and went inside to find the boys. Pat O’Brien’s is apparently the only place that anyone in Memphis knows to go on a Saturday night. It is nearly |
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mmmmmmmmm
