Night Out

I didn't consider myself to be much of a snob. I lived fairly frugally, and had a certain respect for simple, inexpensive things. The Tailspin bar was so dilapidated, disgusting, and distasteful that all of my attempts to be non-judgmental towards it fell flat immediately. It was a small, concrete building, no bigger than a one-story, three bedroom house. It had a plain stone facade, clearly crumbling and cracking under years of weight, age, and abuse.

As I approached, a tall figure walked out and waved to me enthusiastically. "C'mon Sergeant Stoic, put a little pep in your step! We're waiting in here!" I put forth a little more effort, doing little to mask my apprehension, and Riley held the door open with a bow, as if inviting a prince into his quarters. Not wanting to linger outside, lest I accidentally ran into the girl I had to kill, I allowed myself to be shoved over the precipice.

In the past, I would have been a bit nervous about entering a place like this, even if a co-worker invited me. I was tense, sure, but not frightened in the least. There was a certain boldness that had taken root in me lately, and I found it both heartening and disturbing. As my eyes adjusted to the surprisingly bright light of the building I was in, I was able to make out my co-workers and my surroundings.

I jumped back, almost startled, by what I saw in front of me. I was expecting a dingy hole in the wall, but the bar was surprisingly upscale. The floors were polished hardwood, and the walls a dark grey adorned with artistic streaks of bright colors, twirling and intermingling as if they were chasing each other along the length of the room. As I was taking in the sight, I felt a slap on my back, and turned toward my companions.

Riley stood before me, a wide grin stretched across his face, he was lean, fairly tall, and was sporting his own particular brand of unkempt brown hair. Next to him was Jess, who was short and heavy-set, almost comical looking by comparison, wielding that look of mild annoyance that never seemed to leave her face. And furthest away was Peter, who was very average, with well kept light-brown hair and the beginnings of a beer belly.

They were my co-workers at the pharmaceutical plant downtown, and we were all working on the same reactor improvement project. I didn't really communicate with any of them when I didn't have to, and I was sure that I had gained a bit of a reputation for being boring and dour. Well, tonight, I was going to see if I could shift that perception a bit.

For once, I returned a smile, feeding off Riley's charisma and natural joviality. "Riley, Jess, Peter, thanks for inviting me out tonight. You guys really had me fooled with this place." Jess shrugged. "We're all on the same team, it wouldn't have made sense to not invite you." Peter cringed. "That's a little harsh. What Jess was trying to say, I think, is that we thought it'd be cool to get to know you better."

Riley nodded solemnly. "You're a pretty interesting dude, and you've been talking a lot more lately, so I figured you could tear shit up with us today." I laughed. "Yeah, that sounds pretty good. Beats what I had planned." "You had other plans tonight?" Jess said sarcastically, with something that almost resembled a smirk. I nodded. "Yep, I was gonna kill someone, but figured I needed a break."

Peter snorted and shook his head, and Riley let out a heavy belt of his own. "Alright killer, let's show you where we usually sit." We made our way to the back of the quiet bar, sitting at a small, square table in the middle of the room. The place was small, but not empty, there were probably twenty or so others in with us, mostly young professionals like ourselves.

Almost as soon as we sat down, a waiter approached us. "Anything from the bar guys?" I froze. I really didn't like bars very much, and I spaced out as I desperate tried to think of something respectable to order. Eventually, the waiter turned to me, and we exchanged a long and uncomfortable stare. "Uhh, can I get a rum and coke please?" "Of course, what kind of rum?"

Now I was definitely done for. "Umm, uhh, Jack Daniels?" The waiter tried to hide his frustration. "Sir, that's not rum." Riley cut in, saving me from any more embarrassment. "Just give him some Captain Morgan's." I nodded. "Yeah, that's fine." The waiter left, and everyone broke out in laughter. I could feel myself blushing, but I wasn't really angry; it was pretty funny.

"Yeah, I know, I've been out of the game for a while." Pete gave me a childish grin. "Want to make up for lost time?" I returned it, genuinely amused and happy to be included. "More than anything." Jess buried her head in her hands. "This is going to be a disaster." "No", Riley replied. "It's going to be hilarious."

The conversation was kind of dry at first, amiable talk about our project, about the weather, upcoming TV shows; typical Saturday night banter. I was just glad we were still on topics I could understand. If we got into hobbies, girlfriends/boyfriends, or sports, I was doomed to a purgatory of awkwardness.

I sipped at my rum and coke, and before I knew it, I was sipping my second, and then my third. If there was one thing I remembered from my long gone college days, it's that I was kind of a lightweight. I wasn't particularly short or small, but I was kind of on the lean side, and just naturally had a pretty poor alcohol tolerance.

That was probably a good thing though. The discomfort and inhibition that usually plagued me slowly melted away under the influence of my successive drinks, and the tense anxiety that usually clouded me in social situations began to relax. The Book almost became a comforting presence.

It was well behaved and calm, and slipped into my back pocket, felt like an anchor tethering me to the world. Soon everyone was loose and well on their way, and we were laughing and having a great time. I remembered what it felt like to have friends, what it felt like to be a part of conversations.

It made me realize that my isolation had really been crippling me, and all at once, I felt a strong pang of regret. I brushed it aside though, vowing to deal with it at some other point. I was finally included and welcomed; now was not the time to be an emotional buzzkill.

After another round of drinks and merriment, Riley pulled out his cell phone and turned to the group. "Hey guys, I don't think we showed Bryce that video." "Which video?" The other two said in unison. "The one where the dog keeps slipping on the icy sidewalk, remember? We should show it to him!"

"For the love of God Riley, don't make any of us watch that again." "Yeah, please don't dude, it's really not that funny." Suggestible and intoxicated, I very much wanted to see this video. "Don't worry Riley, I'm pumped, I'm hyped, let me see it!" He smiled, "Of course friend. Let's take it outside though, so these two don't piss their pants."

We both laughed and walked outside. The air was noticeably colder, as the glow of the evening faded into the harsh bite of the night. Riley walked me a few paces from the building, and turned to me, his face suddenly stern and serious. "Uhh, where's the video, dude? I really want to see that dog."

He frowned. "There is no video Bryce, well there is, but it's really not funny and I'm not going to show it to you right now, I just wanted to get you away from those two. I have something more serious I want to discuss." My guard immediately flared up as I realized that I had been dragged outside, alone, by someone who I now knew was way more sober than me.

"Alright then Riley. Speak your peace."