Mental Revenge

Took time at lunch to bang this out for some Trifecta fun:  use “trail” (like a trail of smoke would trail, for instance) as a verb.  See them for details. 

Friday night was finally here; he drank 4 whiskey drinks and turned the music up loud before heading downtown.  He was already too drunk to drive, but it was the 1980s, and you could bomb around town like a madman in those days, as long as you didn’t actually crash into something or someone.  He walked into his favorite bar, where a pretty decent band had just started playing.  He found a couple work friends, sat down with them, and ordered 3 whiskey/waters, two because he was thirsty and a 3rd just in case the waitress was slow, then tipped her a whole dollar so he wouldn’t be invisible to her later.  After a lot of laughs and friendly insults with his work friends, and after the band had taken their first break, he spied her with her friends in the corner.  He wasn’t sure how he’d missed her before, or if she’d come in when he wasn’t looking, but there she was, cute as a button, laughing with her friends. 

After a couple more drinks, he finally did it–he got up and boldly walked up to the table-full of pretty girls, looked her in the eye, and asked her to dance.  She gave him a look like he had tried to hand her a dog turd or something equally awful, rather than just speak to her, and firmly said, “No thanks.”  As he walked away and walked straight out of the bar, her “generic-blonde” friend couldn’t help but notice the slump of his shoulders.  Disappointment, sadness, and self-loathing seemed to trail behind him in almost visible waves.  The cutie-pie turned to her friends and asked “Could he have been more impaired, do you think?”

He vowed never to return to that bar, but after a couple weeks he reconsidered, saying to himself, “Screw it; she’ll probably marry some fat farmer with a stupid last name and join some church where they baptize people by fully dipping them into a big tub or something–good riddance.”

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10 Responses to Mental Revenge

  1. booguloo says:

    You got to feel for both of them.

  2. Well turned story. yeah, she probably will (marry someone with a stupid name). Or perhaps, regret forever the turn not taken, just because she had bad flatulence and didn’t feel like dancing that night in case, well, you know.

    • She did (marry someone with a stupid name). The guy in question completely lost track of her for years, then, while visiting friends one time, picked up a church photo directory they had from their church, idly flipped through it, and saw her there, still cute, apparently happily married. Too funny about the flatulence; I wish I could go back now and say to any gal who didn’t want to dance with me (with a “knowing” nod): “Oh, gassy, tonight, huh? That’s okay, then.”

  3. Was she really that cute or was it the whisky? Whisky can be very, very persuasive, after all.

    • Whisky is persuasive, but the guy in the story had seen her around for years when he was drunk and when he was sober, and she was very cute, sort of in an early Rosanna Arquette way, you know? As in: pretty, but way more cute than pretty.

      • Okay. And did this hypothetical guy’s name start with a K?

        • Well, right on, me bonnie lass. (Please excuse any mixing of Scottish and Irish terms on St. Pat’s Day; but after all, I think there’s been a lot of mixing between them over the years.) Anyway, in all truth, I had completely forgotten my mid-to-late ’80s infatuation with that gal till I saw her picture with her family about 15 years later. But when the “trail” prompt came up for Trifecta, I thought of it as blog fodder. Speaking of which, I’m quite disappointed with my unabridged dictionary for not listing the alternate meaning of “inferior or raw material” for “fodder”, as in (from Merriam-Webster website):
          “She often used her friends’ problems as fodder for her novels.” Which is so true, because what other reason is there to listen to your friends’ problems, other than to use them, in a general way, in later writings? 😉
          And you would be correct in assuming that I’m doing anything rather than getting down to the cleaning/organizing I have lined up for myself this Saturday, hence the overly long reply.

  4. Thanks for linking up with Trifecta this week. I agree that whisky can be pretty persuasive. I also agree that she’ll likely end up with a farmer toting a bad last name. Love the “Could he have been more impaired?” It sounds like something you’d overhear. Quality stuff here. Thanks for sharing. Hope to see you again soon.

    • Thank, you, Trifecta. The contest is fun. The term “impaired” doesn’t seem to me to be an 80’s term, but it fit in the story nicely. I picture Chandler from “Friends” asking that question about someone, with the heavy accent on “been”. And I think my ex asked me a similar question about myself one football Sunday in the 90s. Thank goodness I never drink any more. Well, not nearly as much. And bar music is so awful any more I probably wouldn’t ask anyone to dance these days either.

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