Dancing Hours (13 page)

Most everyone but the international students had gone home, but I ran
into
Phil on campus.  Happy to see a familiar face, I agreed to go to a party at his apartment.  The only thing is
,
it was a party of just guys who were sitting around drinking, watching TV and playing video games.  I immediately began calculating the appropriate amount of time to stay before I could leave without seeming rude. 

Periodically, someone else would show up and Phil and the person would go to the bedroom to talk.  I notice
d
some of the guys appeared to be stoned.  They all seemed to enjoy having me there and most of the
m
attempted some form of
conversation
.    At one point a guy showed up and greeted Phil with “Hey! 
Pharmacy Phil!”
  When Phil returned,
I
asked him about that.  He laughed.

“I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That I’m the source.”

“The source of what?”
 
the
room laughed.

“I sell drugs, Andy.”
he
said flatly
.

I was shocked and felt naïve.  I’d never known anyone who sold drugs before, but Phil seemed like a nice guy.
  Suddenly I realized that I was so naïve that I didn’t even know what a drug dealer looked like when I saw him.  I was embarrassed.

“I thought you were hanging
out
trying to score some free product.”
He added.

I was offended
and I had no idea how to respond to that statement, but I no longer cared about not seeming rude
. 
My mind struggled to form the right
words to say to Phil, but
i
t
was taking me a few moments. 
In my agitation,
I didn’t notice the mo
o
d in the room shift from very casual to much more formal.  A man had come in and approached Phil, who sat up straight and shook his hand.

“Hello, Phil
lip
, who is this?” the man asked turning his attention and smile to me.

Introductions were made.  His name was
X.
 
What kind of name is that?
I decided it was better not to
ask
.

“Are you Phil
lip
’s girlfriend?”
he asked.

“Ha! No.” 

“Well, please don’t let me interrupt the conversation.  Phillip was suggesting that you were here because he handles a certain product and you looked like you might have something to say about that.”

I didn’t know what to do.  It wasn’t like me to
be confrontational
, but people
didn’t usually
question my character like that.

“Look, you all seem like nice guys, but that’s not my thing.  I mean, I don’t care if you do it but I’m not here to ‘score’ anything and I think I’ll just be on my way.”

“Wait. 
You can’t go out there alone at night. 
Let me escort you home
.
”
Said X

“I don’t need an escort.  I know the campus pretty well and security is out.”

“Indeed.” X seemed to consider this.  “Well, I’m headed out anyway; I’ll walk you downstairs."

In the stairwell X apologized for his rudeness.  He explained that he often sees women in Phil’s company, but never one as pretty as me.  I blushed, but it was too dark for him to see, I hoped. 
I muttered some sort of thanks. 
He asked me about my life and kept walking with me and before I knew it we were sitting at the fountain in the middle of my school and I knew more a
bou
t X than I’d ever known about any guy.  He was a very poor child who’d grown up “the hard way.”  He’d accidentally killed a man in self-defense once and owned several bars and restaurants in town.  He confessed that he wasn’t perfect, he did have a few seedy dealings with drugs and sometimes stolen cars, but it was his goal to be a successful businessman without those things and it was the minority of his income. 
H
e stopped talking for a moment and appeared to wait.  I guessed he was waiting for me to say something, so I
gave
him
encouragement
for trying
to do things the right way.  It was getting late and I was
very
tired, but his story was a bit fascinating to me.  I’d never met anyone with such a colorful past.
 

“Aren’t you curious?” he asked. 

“Curious about what?”

“My income.
  Surely it’s crossed your mind.”

“It’s none of my business.  I don’t a
sk people about stuff like that.”

“I see. You are an interesting girl, Andrea.”  He touched my hand.

“I can’t imagine that I’m anywhere near as interesting as some of the people you know.”

“Oh, you have no idea.  Those people are predictable in their unpredictability.  I do know some interesting people, not the good kind.  They are the kind of people who know how to accomplish a goal
, but it’s hard to know who your friends are
.”

I was oddly punch drunk at the late hour by the time the conversation started to lull.  I felt a little sorry for X and
although I knew he was bad news, I wasn’t afraid of him.  It seemed to me he was lost, but trying to find his way again.  When I finally said I had to go to bed, he gave me a kiss on the cheek and a long hug. 
He smiled and told me that
he was very happy to have met me. 
He smelled like cigarettes and leather.
  As I walked away, I had a hard time shaking the feeling that he was watching me go.

The next morning, Phil caught up with me in the courtyard
as I was headed to work
.
He said he wanted to apologize for making assumptions and I accepted.  It wasn’t the first time my naiveté had gotten me into a mess.

“You made quite an impression on the boss.”
He said.

“Who’s the boss?”

“X”

“Oh.  It was an interesting experience for me too.”

“Yeah, life is full of interesting experiences.
  Sometimes boring is the way to go.
”
He trailed off thinking as he reached into his jacket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

Sensing that he had more to say, I asked if he had something on his mind.

“I do, but I’ve got a lot to lose so I’m just going to tell you this: You seem like a smart girl, a good girl.  You stay out of trouble’s way, okay?”

I was late for
work
, so I excused myself and wondered
whether he’d been drinking
this morning.  Phil’s remark clung to the back of my mind like chewing gum on
the bottom of
my shoe, though
. 
I tried to scrape it off.
I guess I already knew what he was trying to say, but
in the end
I chose to ignore it.  Besides, I had no intention of going over to Phil’s place again and so the odds of me running into X were pretty slim.

I didn’t realize that in a huge town where everyone could be anonymous, I would find a way to run into X again.

11

As it happens, my birthday
that year
fell
on the same night as ladies night at a local strip club.  My friends absolutely refused to take no for an answer.  I’d already learned that young girls with too much freedom and not enough supervision were bound to do anything and everything their parents would frown about.

It felt a little gross and dangerous to be there.  They had borrowed some older girls’ driver’s licenses
, which also felt wrong but I didn’t feel like I was in a position to argue.  When people are trying to do something nice for you, it seems rude to say no.  I
used my own license and the bartender looked at mine the longest
. 
You’d have thought he’d never seen an out of state license before. I got marked as underage, which was a little embarrassing, but I had no plans to drink anyway.  
Sunday was there with me
and
having her there made me feel safe
r
. 
We hadn’t known each other very long, but she’d never stranded me at a party and I knew she’d look out for me, as I would do for her.

The bar had a thin film of somewhat sticky grime on everything.  The place was filled with women and a few men, mostly older than my group by 20 years or so.  When the show was about to begin, the
bawdy mood
of the room escalated
to a fevered pitch
and the crowd collectively gathered around the low stage so that I could hardly see around the backs and heads of the people in front of me.
  There was a separate runway area where most of my friends gathered because they’d be closer to the action.

The first group of dancers came out as a group looking like members of the Village People
– a cop, cowboy, construction worker
.  One guy was sporting a fantastic moustache, which
I realized
was making quite a comeback.  As the men
danced and
shed their clothes, the general cat-calling and debauchery in the room increased.  I couldn’t see it all, but I
was sure
at least some of the guys were
down to their thongs
.  As I worked my way to the edge of the stage, I was a l
ittle fascinated by this scene: m
en dancing for money, women salivating over them.  It was a role reversal and an interesting one.  The men’s bodies were spectacular – tanned and groomed, like nothing I’d seen before… not that I’d ever seen a nearly naked man up close before.  I also studied their faces.  It was clear that
most
of them were straight up
exhibitionists
who reveled in the attention and the profitability of their profession, but ladies night was a rare occurrence and I wondered what their day jobs were. 

Overall, I wasn’t really sure what the fuss was about, but my friends were screaming their heads off waving dollar bills in the air.  Sunday hung back with me a little bit.  She knew it wasn’t my scene.  The next group came out to thunderous screams.  They didn’t really have a theme so much as the first group, but they had a fairly well orchestrated dance
routine.  Some of the
women had satisfied their curio
s
ity and fallen back
so
Sunday and I were able to see a little more easily through the crowd.  My friends pulled out a birthday girl tiara and thrust me toward the stage.  The heat
of my cheeks
could have easily lit a wildfire.