Memories of a Friday Night (2004)
Not sure why I wanted to write this down or what exactly I plan to do with this, but here I sit… writing it down anyway.
Ok, see, some co-workers of mine at JEA were going out to Studebaker’s on June 4th to take swing dance lessons. I tried to get another co-worker to go with me to watch. He didn’t want to.
Need to remember to give him crap for that.
But anyway, this place is damn near out in Middleburg. I mean WAY the hell out in O.P.! And I fought and fought the urge to go out there but I realized that it was no use. You see, there was a specific co-worker that was going to be there.
Her name is Misty.
And I think she is beautiful.
I’ve wanted to see her dance for as long as I have known her. Plus, I wanted to have a chance to actually spend some time with her outside of work. In a more “fun” setting. Not that we have never gone out or anything but it’s been a while. The only way I get to see her outside of work is to drop by her other job. She says she wants to hang out with me from time to time but nowhere near as much as before. We don’t talk as much as we used to. She rarely logs onto to Yahoo Messenger and chats. I rarely get emails outside of work and even THEN sporadically. Phone calls are more often by my instigation than not. I know she’s having a hard time lately and would much prefer to either find her ex-boyfriend changing for the better or getting another guy she likes to actually make a commitment to her. She knows what I can do for her and I truly believe she knows I am a good person for her. Someone who can appreciate her. Not just for her appearance, which is already fantastic and only getting better. Some who can also appreciate WHO she IS. Also fantastic. Also getting better on a daily basis. The same reasons she broke it off with her ex are the same reasons she has shown so much growth as a person that I cannot help but be completely infatuated with her. But I digress.
So I head out to Studebaker’s and finally arrive in the parking lot. I send a text message and tell her this. She replies that the lessons were cancelled. I can’t see the car for the other co-worker, Cali, and realize that she didn’t drive herself. Whether she came with Misty, whose car I DID see, or by some other means I didn’t know. I did suspect the truth but wanted confirmation. I had been asking Misty to send me a reason NOT to go out there. But since she isn’t big on replying to me (I call and text her too much, I know), I hadn’t gotten word back.
So I finally get off my ass and go inside. I walk straight to where they are.
Ok, THAT is bullshit. I actually walk straight into the part of the club they are at but I hide at the bar for about 5-10 minutes. I order a beer and can barely drink it my hands are shaking so much. Why am I nervous, you ask? Simple. Let me explain.
See, like I said, the only times I see her anymore is when I drop by her job. Uninvited. Unrequested. And probably unwanted. Now, Misty will say she doesn’t care if I come or not. But see… THAT is my problem. But I’ll come back to that in a little bit. Let’s just say that I was worried that I was forcing my presence on her and Cali… AGAIN.
Anyway, I do finally get over to them and get a welcome. Cali makes a joke and introduces me to her (soon to be ex-) boyfriend and Misty simply says “Hi”. Not sure if she just wasn’t surprised since she got my texts or what. I also couldn’t tell is she was happy, sad, completely indifferent or mad about me being there. This will come back up in a little bit, too.
So we sit and talk. We change bars and keep playing. Misty and Cali are dancing. I am moving in what passes for dancing in my world since I haven’t been able to do it for quite a while. Not for lack of desire or trying but simply due to lack of opportunity. I like to go out and go to clubs and bars. Especially when the company is good. Now I could fill this whole thing with nothing but descriptions of my past with Cali, limited as it is, or with details of my talk with Mark.
But I won’t.
Cause in a couple of months, I won’t remember any of that. I won’t remember Cali feeling free to hit me. I won’t remember that the woman in front of me coming in was born on 09/11/1983 and had a crappy I.D. I won’t remember that I tried a new drink and liked it. I won’t remember the playing around with Amy, the bartender, or with the bartender in Liquid with Mark telling me I should “go for it”. I won’t remember much of my attempts to get Mark to dance with Cali. I won’t even remember watching Cali and Misty do their little pseudo-lesbo BS with the cherries. I won’t remember watching people learn to line dance. I won’t remember what songs were played or that weird break dancing kid. I won’t remember anyone else in that club. After time erases all memory of that night only one thing will remain. Only one person.
Misty.
Watching her dance is a memory I will keep as long as I can. Watching her move to the beat. Watching her hips gyrate. Watching her pivot and sway about. Watching her face, eyes closed, her expression serious but with a hint of a smile. She was lost in the music and the dance. And it was pure beauty. She wasn’t wearing any of the “Going out-fits” I had heard about. She wasn’t overly made up with make-up or with her hair all done up. No glitter was seen. No, her hair was up in a ponytail and I had seen the outfit before. But that didn’t matter. Her clothes couldn’t hide her movements. Her outfit was completely unimportant. When she danced before me, all I thought about was watching her. She was almost in silhouette. An outline of a woman who loved what she was doing. And the few opportunities I had to actually pretend I was dancing WITH her, touching her, holding her, moving my own hips as best I could to match her skill, all moments of them are safely stored and locked away in my mind. Replayed ad infinitum. I awoke the next morning after only 4 hours sleep with a smile on my face and thoughts of her dancing on my mind.
Sounds like a wonderful night, doesn’t it?
So why am I sad?
Why does it hurt to think about it?
I’ll have to think about that and come back to this.
Right now. I need to get away from this. I want to enjoy the thoughts and memories.
I want to dwell on that part and not the rest.
But I WILL deal with that.
Soon.I promise.
Ok, see, some co-workers of mine at JEA were going out to Studebaker’s on June 4th to take swing dance lessons. I tried to get another co-worker to go with me to watch. He didn’t want to.
Need to remember to give him crap for that.
But anyway, this place is damn near out in Middleburg. I mean WAY the hell out in O.P.! And I fought and fought the urge to go out there but I realized that it was no use. You see, there was a specific co-worker that was going to be there.
Her name is Misty.
And I think she is beautiful.
I’ve wanted to see her dance for as long as I have known her. Plus, I wanted to have a chance to actually spend some time with her outside of work. In a more “fun” setting. Not that we have never gone out or anything but it’s been a while. The only way I get to see her outside of work is to drop by her other job. She says she wants to hang out with me from time to time but nowhere near as much as before. We don’t talk as much as we used to. She rarely logs onto to Yahoo Messenger and chats. I rarely get emails outside of work and even THEN sporadically. Phone calls are more often by my instigation than not. I know she’s having a hard time lately and would much prefer to either find her ex-boyfriend changing for the better or getting another guy she likes to actually make a commitment to her. She knows what I can do for her and I truly believe she knows I am a good person for her. Someone who can appreciate her. Not just for her appearance, which is already fantastic and only getting better. Some who can also appreciate WHO she IS. Also fantastic. Also getting better on a daily basis. The same reasons she broke it off with her ex are the same reasons she has shown so much growth as a person that I cannot help but be completely infatuated with her. But I digress.
So I head out to Studebaker’s and finally arrive in the parking lot. I send a text message and tell her this. She replies that the lessons were cancelled. I can’t see the car for the other co-worker, Cali, and realize that she didn’t drive herself. Whether she came with Misty, whose car I DID see, or by some other means I didn’t know. I did suspect the truth but wanted confirmation. I had been asking Misty to send me a reason NOT to go out there. But since she isn’t big on replying to me (I call and text her too much, I know), I hadn’t gotten word back.
So I finally get off my ass and go inside. I walk straight to where they are.
Ok, THAT is bullshit. I actually walk straight into the part of the club they are at but I hide at the bar for about 5-10 minutes. I order a beer and can barely drink it my hands are shaking so much. Why am I nervous, you ask? Simple. Let me explain.
See, like I said, the only times I see her anymore is when I drop by her job. Uninvited. Unrequested. And probably unwanted. Now, Misty will say she doesn’t care if I come or not. But see… THAT is my problem. But I’ll come back to that in a little bit. Let’s just say that I was worried that I was forcing my presence on her and Cali… AGAIN.
Anyway, I do finally get over to them and get a welcome. Cali makes a joke and introduces me to her (soon to be ex-) boyfriend and Misty simply says “Hi”. Not sure if she just wasn’t surprised since she got my texts or what. I also couldn’t tell is she was happy, sad, completely indifferent or mad about me being there. This will come back up in a little bit, too.
So we sit and talk. We change bars and keep playing. Misty and Cali are dancing. I am moving in what passes for dancing in my world since I haven’t been able to do it for quite a while. Not for lack of desire or trying but simply due to lack of opportunity. I like to go out and go to clubs and bars. Especially when the company is good. Now I could fill this whole thing with nothing but descriptions of my past with Cali, limited as it is, or with details of my talk with Mark.
But I won’t.
Cause in a couple of months, I won’t remember any of that. I won’t remember Cali feeling free to hit me. I won’t remember that the woman in front of me coming in was born on 09/11/1983 and had a crappy I.D. I won’t remember that I tried a new drink and liked it. I won’t remember the playing around with Amy, the bartender, or with the bartender in Liquid with Mark telling me I should “go for it”. I won’t remember much of my attempts to get Mark to dance with Cali. I won’t even remember watching Cali and Misty do their little pseudo-lesbo BS with the cherries. I won’t remember watching people learn to line dance. I won’t remember what songs were played or that weird break dancing kid. I won’t remember anyone else in that club. After time erases all memory of that night only one thing will remain. Only one person.
Misty.
Watching her dance is a memory I will keep as long as I can. Watching her move to the beat. Watching her hips gyrate. Watching her pivot and sway about. Watching her face, eyes closed, her expression serious but with a hint of a smile. She was lost in the music and the dance. And it was pure beauty. She wasn’t wearing any of the “Going out-fits” I had heard about. She wasn’t overly made up with make-up or with her hair all done up. No glitter was seen. No, her hair was up in a ponytail and I had seen the outfit before. But that didn’t matter. Her clothes couldn’t hide her movements. Her outfit was completely unimportant. When she danced before me, all I thought about was watching her. She was almost in silhouette. An outline of a woman who loved what she was doing. And the few opportunities I had to actually pretend I was dancing WITH her, touching her, holding her, moving my own hips as best I could to match her skill, all moments of them are safely stored and locked away in my mind. Replayed ad infinitum. I awoke the next morning after only 4 hours sleep with a smile on my face and thoughts of her dancing on my mind.
Sounds like a wonderful night, doesn’t it?
So why am I sad?
Why does it hurt to think about it?
I’ll have to think about that and come back to this.
Right now. I need to get away from this. I want to enjoy the thoughts and memories.
I want to dwell on that part and not the rest.
But I WILL deal with that.
Soon.I promise.
posted by wmjwatson at 6:57 PM
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