Frank's story continued
First, I apologize for the delay but the holiday slash new year deal got the best of me. Here is more of Frank's story. I hope you enjoy.
He met her at a nightclub, the type where the men wear clean-shaven smiles, dark blue dress shirts, and black slacks. The women wore their short black skirts with perfectly trimmed shoulder length hair or tight blue jeans and smelled of Chanel No. 5. Here, the bouncers wear black and look like second-string offensive linemen. Nonetheless, Frank showed up with a smile and money in hand.
Inside, soft colored lights broke the darkness. Blues, orange, and yellows poured down on the patrons. The wall was one continuous mirror. This always impressed Frank, mainly because the nightclub was circular. In fact, there was not a corner or sharp edge in the whole place. The bar to the right was hollow oval. The bartenders performed circus tricks serving the never-ending stream of clients, spinning, and dodging as went between liquor and counter. The liquor flowed more than the lines of the club. The music was blend of euro-club. The base set the tone, a constant beating that bounced off the walls and through his body.
Frank made his way towards the bar, shifting in the sea of bodies. Once he reached the called to one of the bartenders. “Excuse me.”, he said. “Excuse me.” There was no response. He called again, “Excuse me.” This time he called out much louder than last, still no response. He let go a sigh of frustration. Determined to get service, he took in a deep breath preparing to yell. Unfortunately, someone beat him to it. “HEY YOU!” there was a high-pitched shout and a nudge that push Frank to the left. All followed by a woman to take Frank’s place at the bar. Frank looked to his right to see who had stolen his thunder and his opportunity to buy a drink.
“Oh…sorry about that.” The comment disarmed Frank, as well as the woman looks. She was nearly his height. “Sometimes you need to be forceful to get what you want around here. You know what I mean?” She looked at him with half a smile. Frank looked back at the dark haired, olive complexioned woman that beat him to the punch. He did not know how to answer her. Frank was a watcher. He did everything to prepare for the game but never played. Actually, this was the first time Frank did anything more than say “hello” or give a nod of recognition. She continued looked at Frank for confirmation. All he could say was “Yeah”.
He met her at a nightclub, the type where the men wear clean-shaven smiles, dark blue dress shirts, and black slacks. The women wore their short black skirts with perfectly trimmed shoulder length hair or tight blue jeans and smelled of Chanel No. 5. Here, the bouncers wear black and look like second-string offensive linemen. Nonetheless, Frank showed up with a smile and money in hand.
Inside, soft colored lights broke the darkness. Blues, orange, and yellows poured down on the patrons. The wall was one continuous mirror. This always impressed Frank, mainly because the nightclub was circular. In fact, there was not a corner or sharp edge in the whole place. The bar to the right was hollow oval. The bartenders performed circus tricks serving the never-ending stream of clients, spinning, and dodging as went between liquor and counter. The liquor flowed more than the lines of the club. The music was blend of euro-club. The base set the tone, a constant beating that bounced off the walls and through his body.
