Another weekend, another date. And hopefully another one night stand. Sam waited patiently on the street corner for his tinder date to show herself.
Sam was a chronically single man in his mid 20s. With a sleight, twinky build and a nice head of hair. Hooking up wasn’t hard. Despite what some people liked to believe. Sure, there was a lot of media out there telling you to do this or that. The real secret, in Sam’s experience, was that almost all of that stuff was bullshit. All one needed for a successful one nighter was to be two things, polite and funny. Of course, it helped if you were also handsome. But just being well groomed could go a long ways towards compensating for that.
As an optimistic person, Sam tended to believe that people were optimistic. And generally wanted to have sex. They had this romantic image in their heads before they even left the house. This image of a fun date with a cool, interesting person who could make them feel fun and sexy for a while. All one had to do was not shatter that romantic fantasy by being too real. It was sad but true. And it worked for him more often than not.
Many of his friends and family just assumed that Sam was at least mildly sexist. That was the reputation one gathered when they never seemed to date anyone for more than a week or two. But in his own estimation, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Sam preferred the company of women to that of men. He loved meeting new girls and getting to know them. The obligatory chit chat about their work and their jobs and what they had been like in highschool, that was fun for Sam.
And, well. If a particularly nice and pretty girl wanted to have sex with him? All the better. Doubly so if she was interesting to boot.
Sex and dating was what Sam thought of as one of his hobbies. Not a big commitment. After a series of rough relationships in his younger days he had come to the conclusion that long term dating was akin to some form of existential claustrophobia. Not that he didn’t understand the appeal of having a committed partner. He had simply reasoned long ago that it wasn’t for him.
Looking at his phone, Sam could see his date was late. A power move perhaps. But more likely she was the same as him. Someone who had been on a million dates before and didn’t get too stressed about punctuality.
Sam released a long sigh. Which turned to an ethereal wisp of frost in the chilly night air.
“I wish I was happy” He said to no one in particular.
That was the other thing, the hookup game didn’t leave him feeling particularly satisfied. Rejection no longer stung like it did when he started but success felt all the more ephemeral too. Depression had a way of sapping the colour out of things, he supposed.
“HI! Samuel?” A pleasantly melodic, female voice pierced Sam's melancholy.
“Oh, hey. Just Sam actually”
“Hi. I’m just Auriel!” Her smile gleamed white as she leaned in for a hug. Which Sam returned unreservedly.
Hugging didn’t necessarily mean anything. Whoever told you that you could interpret signs to gauge how much a girl was into you or not was probably bullshitting. It was exactly the kind of bro-science over intellectualizing that Sam hated. But it did feel like getting off on the right foot.
“So, What do you wanna do?”
“Dancing?”
“Dancing it is”
-
Sam was, of course. An abysmal dancer. Unable to find the rhythm no matter how obvious it tried to present its self to him. The loud club music blared on. Obliterating any chance of casual conversation. So he reasoned that he’d just have to strive on and attempt to make it look natural.
Auriel was laughing at his comically inept thrashing. Which was probably a good thing. It checked one of the all important boxes, be funny. She checked all of Jim’s boxes too. Auriel was pretty, very pretty. Carrying herself with an effortlessly feminine vibe. Like being young and girly and fun was the easiest thing in the world. It was more than a little intoxicating. And somewhat intimidating. This girl was kinda sorta out of his league. Which was fine. Sam didn’t need to score to feel good about himself, exactly. The thought that he might never be able to see her naked was a little bit of a downer though.
She leaned in, slick with sweat from the muggy club atmosphere. “You wanna go outside?”
She grabbed him by the arm and made a quick exit. Their ears rang as they emerged in the cold outside world. Once again capable of hearing their own thoughts.
“Smoke?”
“Uh, no thanks. I don’t-”
“You don’t smoke. That’s ok. I get it. You’re a good boy”
What was that supposed to mean? Had it been a compliment? Or….?
Auriel retrieved a lighter stashed in her front jean pocket and sparked a cigarette. It was a motion done with such practiced ease that Sam could tell she was fairly serious about it.
“So, where’d you learn to dance like that?” She said with a sarcastic tone.
“I didn’t”
“Ha ha”
She laughed, laughing was good. Dammit! He was actually into this girl. Sam felt his confidence eroding slightly. Auriel was just this cool, painfully feminine chick that seemed like she didn’t even need him to be here in order to have fun. Totally his type. Now he actually had to be afraid of failure.
“So, uhh. Where are you from?” Lame. Sam cursed himself for the much too banal question. Knowing it had sounded a bit forced and awkward. But a bit of nerves could be a good thing. Some girls liked that.
“Here. Born and raised city girl”
Fuck. That was cool too. And also just the way she said it.
Sam felt himself floundering as they walked back up around to the club entrance. The silence would become deafening soon and he needed to find something interesting to say. God, he was so nervous all of a sudden.
Observing a group of young women being allowed to cut the line by the bouncer, Sam decided it was as good a thing as any to comment on.
“Do you ever feel like, jealous of other girls?” He cringed internally. Sure, in his mind. There had probably been a good question in there. Something interesting and thought provoking. But what he had said was kind of fucking stupid.
Auriel raised an eyebrow. Seeming to consider the question. She watched as the flirty girls entered the club. Getting a pass for their looks. For their bodies. “What do you mean, do I get jealous? Of what?”
“I..uhh. I mean that...uh-”
“Do you mean you get jealous, Sam?”
Sam didn’t know what to say to that. Clearly he had just grasped onto something to say and some nonsense had spilled out. Now Auriel might think there was something wrong with him. Like he was less than masculine.
“Oh, no. I just mean. Well, maybe”
“Maybe” Auriel’s expression was hard to read while she mulled over what he had said. “You’re kinda dorky, Sam. You wanna go get a drink? This place sucks”
“Yeah! Definitely!” Whatever Sam said, it worked.
-
Hours later. Sam and Auriel were engaged in some drunken approximation of sex. They had gone back to her place. Which turned out to be her parent’s basement suite. All the elements were there. One hard penis, one wet vagina. The world was spinning much too fast for either of them to make any sense of it though.
“Maybe this is a bad idea” Sam burped.
“Nono, let’s fuck!”
Auriel threw up. She had clearly been much too intoxicated to see it coming because if she had been planning ahead, she probably would not have chosen to hurl all over her clean sheets.
“Ohfuck”
The smell was overpowering in the tiny little bedroom. Sam thought he might join her in regurgitating the five ore six....or nine beers they’d downed earlier.
Auriel took him by the wrist once more and guided him out to the large, comfortable couch in the living room. Cleaning was much too much of a hassle tonight. They collapsed semi naked on the couch and passed out.
Thu May 13 19:03:13 2021