'Dirty Dancing'

08 October, 2017rodster385Comments (0)


Yet again I sat alone at a table for two beneath the neon lights on a Saturday night sipping a Coors Light. I sighed and lowered my head, the brim of my Stetson casting a shadow over my beer. I could be sitting on a Mexican beach with Psycho Sherry sipping tequila sunrises, but no, here I was in a smokey bar drinking overpriced beer and staring at couples sitting around me, holding hands and making steamy midnight plans. Perhaps I was a bit sexually frustrated, I reasoned. I peeled the label from my beer bottle as I realized I couldn't even remember the last time...my eyes caught sight of her sitting at a table at the far corner of the dance floor.
"Hey, come dance with me!"
She turned her attention from the crowded dance floor and peered into my eyes.
"Oh, I don't cowboy dance."
I detected a foreign accent in her voice, likely a northern girl I decided.
"You don't or you can't?" I grinned and drew myself closer.
"I can't scoot boots with you Texans. Just can't get the hang of it." she fidgeted with a silver heart necklace that dangled in the crevice of her cleavage.
She stared hard at my face, sizing me up.
"Tell you what, cowboy...why don't you sit down and buy me a drink and tell me about yourself. If they play some rock music later and I have a pretty good buzz going, I'll dance with you. Might even dirty dance! Do you know how to dirty dance?"
How hard could that be, I thought to myself. Two people just writhe on the dance floor, much like they would under the covers. A fleeting thought flashed through my little brain...like I need all that with nowhere to go with it.
As the girl who called herself Jenny downed her fifth margarita, 'Barracuda' blasted over the speakers. Jenny leaped from the table and pulled me onto the dance floor. How hard could this be, I repeated to myself as she grinded her fine little hiney into my groin? My sixth sense told me to drape my arms around her waist and hang on for the ride and it'd be alright. My sixth sense proved itself correct as song after song bashed through my head, the sexy blonde literally rocking my world to the music. With neon gone wild above my head and strobe lights blinding my senses, my good senses anyway, I found myself intoxicated with the firm, perfectly molded body that writhed against me. This had to be a dream. Life doesn't get this good, not for an old cowboy like me.
It seemed the night had only begun when they turned the lights on and told us to go home. Hand in hand Jenny and I walked off the dance floor.
"Wow, just wow!" her eyes sparkled as she embraced me, her hands grabbing my butt.
"Are you going to be okay driving home?" I asked, "I don't mind driving you if you're afraid to get out on the streets."
"Do you want to take me home?" she failed at suppressing a grin as her eyes gleamed.
Jenny directed me into the nicer part of the city, my pickup finally pulling into a driveway of what I estimated to be a quarter million dollar home. At her invitation, I followed her inside. She grabbed two beers out of the fridge and took my hand.
"Let's sit out in the backyard. It's a beautiful night! Oh, and by the way, just to get this clear up front...you're not sleeping with me tonight."
"Oh!" My eyes widened in shock at her honesty, "I'd never...heck, you'd probably scare me off if you came onto me!"
"Um-hum," she rolled her eyes and giggled.
For the next two hours, we sat and drank beer and talked about ourselves. Jenny seemed like a nice girl. What she was doing living in that big house all alone, I hadn't a clue. But the girl could dirty dance and I be lying to myself if I didn't admit she was a looker.
I glanced at my watch somewhere in the midst of the conversation.
"Oh! It's three thirty in the morning! I should hit the road. I have forty miles to go before I get home. Say, your car is up at the bar. Do you need me to take you over there tomorrow?"
"I'll tell you what...why don't you come over tomorrow evening. I'll make you a home-cooked meal. I bet a single guy like yourself doesn't get too many of those. After dinner, you can take me to my car. Deal?"
"Yeah, deal!"
I embraced her tightly and kissed her passionately.
"Oh wow! Oh wow!" I can't believe you kissed me like that!

I was in the middle of the sweetest dream when my phone jarred my numb mind into semi-consciousness. I reluctantly answered it.
"It's not even eight o'clock and I've already had two... TWO people come into the store telling me about you making a spectacle of yourself last night. I want the story straight from you!"
"Who is this? Jacy? It's not even eight o'clock. Why are you calling me? You never call me."
"I already told you it's not even eight o'clock! I hear you basically had sexual intercourse on the dance floor with hundreds of people watching. Is this true?"
"Oh...yeah...uh, no!" I sat up in bed rubbing my head.
"Rusty?" came that sinister tone over the phone.
"Jacy, why do you care? It's none of your business anyway."
"My lord, dirty dancing? You? Seriously?"
"Well, Jenny didn't seem to have a problem with how I dirty danced!" I retorted.
"Ah, the blonde tramp's name is Jenny, not Baby? You ain't no Patrick Swayze!"
I tuned Jacy out as I stepped across the room, picking up last night's shirt lying on a chair, and stared at the makeup blotched across the collar. I sniffed the sweetness of perfume and in my head the song played..."(I've Had) The Time of My Life"
With a little practice, I could dance like Patrick Swayze!

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