I woke up the next morning, with a splitting headache and crept out of Cassidy's apartment with a small smile on my face. That had been too easy. The bartender had been right. There were women of a certain...reputation who went to the bars for the sole purpose of getting laid.
For an entire week, my routine consisted of putting in a full day at the office and then heading to the bar afterwards. There, I met a whole host of women who were more than happy to take me home, sleep with me and forget about me the next day.
There was a cute redhead, who was in school to be a Teacher...
a sexy Bachelorette, who needed one last hurrah before getting married...
even a punk chick who played in an all-girls garage band...
I wasn't sure I was happy, per se, but it sure beat the alternative. I knew that I would never find love this way and knowing that gave me a sense of relief. Why go through all of that trouble when the next best thing was practically falling into your lap? The bad thing about one-night stands is, most of the time it's not good, as you only have one night, so no room for improvement. Also, if it is good, you don't have the option of getting it again. Sure, occasionally you might feel empty or dirty, but all you have to do is try again the next night.
For one night, you can spend time with someone who spent hours getting ready for you. No bedhead, no sweatpants. You can always remember them as the way you met them the night before - immaculate makeup job, tight mini-dress, straightened hair and sky-high stilettos. Especially if you're like me and you sneak out as soon as it's over. You don't have to find out about any disgusting habits or hear sob stories about abusive pasts. You don't have to be bugged for commitment or spend money, taking them out to dinner, hoping they'll let you get to second base. There is no emotional baggage. You never get sick of the person. And if it truly is terrible, you never have to see them again.
* * * * * * *
It was late but yet Go had managed to find another girl to chat up. She wasn't as cute as some of the others had been, but they don't call it "last call" for nothing, right?
For the past week, Farryn had watched him leave with almost every bar whore in Hidden Springs. She had created a monster. Who was she to know, that the kid had more issues than Amy Winehouse? He had become a regular at P.U.R.E., getting drunk and banging anything with a skirt. Farryn had developed a sort of friendship with him, as most bartenders did with frequent customers and she knew, deep down, that something must have happened to him to make him act this way. Still, a part of her was intrigued by Go Bergdorf, maybe even attracted to him.
At closing time, Farryn watched Go and his current skank holding hands outside while they waited for their cab.
"Go?" she asked, rudely interrupting the happy "couple".
"Yeah, Farryn?" he blinked, trying to steady himself.
She looked at his flavor of the evening and then back at him. "Just...be safe tonight, okay?"
"Sure thing, babe," Go said, turning his attention back to his date.
* * * * * * *
When I got to P.U.R.E. the next night, Farryn wasn't working at her usual spot. The mixologist on duty said that she had the night off and I might find her on the dance floor. I figured that I would buy her a drink and left to go look for her. This is what I saw:
"Yeah, baby, shake that ass!" cheered Leroy Royse. "Take your clothes off, sweet thing!"
"Go!" Farryn squealed, getting down from the table. She ran over to me and jumped in my arms, piss drunk.
I gave Leroy a dirty look, disgusted by the man's lewd behavior and speech. I could only shudder at what kind of thoughts he had been having about Farryn. "I'll be taking her home now," was all I said. He was lucky that I currently had my arms full because I was furious and could only think about bringing bodily harm to the man.
Farryn had passed out in the cab and I didn't feel comfortable bringing her to my parents'. My mother would have something to say about that, as Lilly was still a teenager. Instead, I told the cabbie to take us to my gallery. In the back was a bedroom I sometimes slept in when I was up late painting. I laid Farryn on her side, for fear of her puking while she slept.
I took a nap on the couch, in case she woke up and needed anything. And although I wasn't getting anything, I felt good about myself, really the best I'd felt in a long time.
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