It was a rough night for Leo Griffin. 10: 32 pm on a Saturday night and he was still at the bar by himself, nursing a beer. To be accurate, he wasn’t completely alone; there were two people he came with to the bar. But they were otherwise engaged and couldn’t be troubled by his trouble.
“You guys aren’t making this any better,” he growled at them, glaring.
“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful,” cooed Yoko, whom was nearly sitting on Alestor’s lap, coyly running a finger along his leg and being altogether way too flirty.
“I hate you because you’re beautiful and you drinking with him,” Leo said, nearly spitting out the last word. Alestor gave him an equally coy smile.
“Don’t hate me because I don’t suck,” he said.
“I hate you,” grumbled Leo into his drink.
The bar was of the dark and dim variety, whose theme was strangely nautical. Like a Red Lobster restaurant, stuffed fish swam on wooden plaques on the walls, barrels of sea salt divided booths, etchings of crabs and lobsters decorated the dim lamps, and fishing nets were hung with the greatest of care like Christmas stockings. Even without the fishy smell, the place reminded one of Spongebob’s hometown Bikini Bottom.
“Don’t take out the fact that you can’t get laid on us,” retorted Yoko. She was now chewing on the olive from her martini, rather Alestor’s martini.
Leo ordered another drink with which to drown his sorrows in.
“Don’t drink too much,” warned Alestor. “I’m not hauling your drunken ass home like last time.” “Why don’t you try to dance or something?” asked Yoko, pointing to the dance floor. Half rave, three parts grinding session, the dancers were packed tightly on the dance floor, moving like a single mass to the rapid bass beat.
“I don’t dance,” Leo said, wrinkling his nose.
“It’s not really dancing. Its more like dry humping, but with rhythm,” Alestor said, slipping a hand onto Yoko’s thigh. “Its like Dance Dance Revolution for the horny.”
A third of the way from the bar to the dance floor, two young women in their mid-twenties caught Leo’s eye. One was a busty blond with a short and layered haircut, the other a slender but equally stacked raven-haired cutie. They smiled in his direction. It was a sign from the heavens.
“Holy shit,” he said, taking a quick gulp from his glass. “They’re looking this way.”
“Acknowledge them, you dolt,” Alestor hissed.
Leo smiled and waved. They waved back.
“Holy shit, they waved back. WhatdoIdo, whatdoIdo??”
Yoko turned for an appraisal. “They’re cute.”
“You’re telling me,” Alestor said. He was admiring their shirts, or rather what was inside them. “Think they’d be up for a foursome?”
Leo snapped his head to the pair and glared. “Man, what the hell? Come on, I need them more than you guys do!”
“He’s right,” Yoko said to Alestor. “He is way more desperate.”
“Fuck you,” Leo said miserably. He glanced at the girls who were looking at him and whispering to each other. The chance was still there.
“Fine, fine, don’t get your panties in a knot,” Alestor sighed. “Look, we’ll help. Just calm down.”
“What do I say?”
“Number One: nothing your brain thinks is a good pick up line. Number Two: don’t say anything your cock thinks would be a good thing to do. Use your head.”
“I would say not to use either head,” supplied Yoko.
“Hate you.”
“Do you want our help or not?”
“Soooorrrrryyyyyy. Go ahead.”
“You could always try the ‘do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again’ opener.” Leo gave him an exasperated look. “Alestor, don’t you have any lines that won’t get he slapped, kicked, or have drinks thrown at me?”
“No, I think that’s all he has,” Yoko said. “Why do you think he tells you to use them? We need entertainment too.”
Leo smacked his head on the bar top. The girls meanwhile were giggling to themselves, mock pushing each other’s arms and still glancing at Leo’s direction.
“Wow, they still look interested,” Alestor said, shocked. “Even after you made friends with the bar top.” Leo was slightly keeled over in his bar stool; the blow from the bar top was a bit harder than he intended.
“Buy them a drink,” Yoko suggested.
“What would they like?”
“I have no idea. Get a Cosmo. Or a martini.” She turned to the bartender whom was doing bartenderly things like clean shot glasses. “Mel, you make appletinis?”
Mel wordlessly started making a pair of appletinis while Leo smiled and waved at the girls. They were pointing at Alestor and Yoko, whom waved back. Leo shook his head, made a mock grimace, and pointed to the pair. He pushed Yoko’s head away for effect.
“I’m not with them,” Leo said, though he knew they wouldn’t hear him. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Yoko, slightly hurt, snapped, “You were wishing not ten minutes ago.”
“Yeah, but that was before two hot girls started waving at me.” He waved again, and Mel brought a pair of appletinis to him.
“Just ask to join them,” Alestor said as Leo picked up the drinks. “Don’t say nothing stupid.”
“Cold day in hell when that happens,” muttered Yoko sullenly.
Leo made his way to the girls, dodging drunks and dancers. Alestor and Yoko settled in to watch.
“Think he has a chance?” asked Yoko.
“Psh. A Mormon’s chance in hell,” scoffed Alestor.
“Isn’t that snowball?”
“I like to mix it up every now and then.”
Leo was talking to the girls. They accepted the drinks. And for a few minutes, all seemed well.
“The Powers That Be can’t possibly think this is a good idea,” Alestor said. He was shocked that Leo hadn’t put his foot in his mouth yet, even though he couldn’t hear the conversation. “Leo never gets the girl.”
Yoko was equally amazed. “What the hell were in those appletinis?” “Pinch me, I’m dreaming.”
Yoko did.
“Ouch, not there, woman.”
“You didn’t say where, love.”
Nodding one of the girls, the blonde gave him a smile and a pat on the hand. Her companion nodded and they rose to leave. Leo was nodding and appeared to be in good spirits, even when they left, without a hug, a handshake or a kiss on the cheek.
He came back to the bar where his companions were.
“Well?” asked Alestor, on pins and needles.
“Totally struck out,” Leo said, still smiling.
Yoko was doubly shocked. “What? No number at least? Did you get names?”
“Heather and Cheryl. No numbers.”
They waited. There had to be a catch. When Leo didn’t say anything, but was till smiling, Alestor cracked: “Then what the hell are you smiling about?”
Leo shrugged. “I dunno. It was really pleasant. No slaps. No kicks. No drink throwing. For once, I wasn’t putting my foot in my mouth. Nice, really. Really nice.”
Rejoice in the small things.
--Dio (10/22/14)
Art and story by me.