Un-Tristanly

I went out last night with a newfound fag hag and it's been one of the best night outs I have had since I got here. It was the closest I'll probably ever get to dating a girl in the States which is basically, never. Haha. We had planned on dancing but our night out had to be cut short - she had to leave early. I continued on by myself. I seriously wanted to dance - too much pent up stress, I guess - so off I went and after a few skips and a quick hop, I was in the club. I paid the cover, got myself a beer and started to survey the place. People were just coming in trickles - it was still quite early anyway.

A few minutes and a couple of bottles of beer later, I found myself dancing to the Latin beats. It was not really my sound but I felt that I had to make the most out of what I have paid for so I swayed my hips and did some grind on center stage. People started to dance and finally, the party went on full swing. I felt good.

But I was bored. I did not like the music. I broke away from the crowd and found myself a place by the stage with a good view of the dance floor. And then I noticed the guy beside me - he was just a little taller than me and he wore a black shirt, a vest, and a toothy smile. He looked like a twink. He started making conversation.

"It's my first time here."

"Oh ok..."

"How bout you?"

"I've been here before..."

"Do you come here often?"

"Only when I feel like it..."

"How old are you?"

"How old do you think I am?"

"Twenty five?"

"Good answer! Haha. I'm twenty nine. You?"

"Nineteen."

"Oh, so that explains why you're not holding a drink..."

He laughed. I was not prepared for the next round of questions. I was busy people watching.

"So are you a top or bottom?"

"Wow, you just had to ask..."

"Of course."

"Tell me, what do you want me to be?"

"A... bottom?"

"Haha. Sure..."

He probably thought that he had a chance. I was just actually pulling his leg.

"Where do you live?"

"Nearby. Why?"

"I was wondering if you'd want to get out of here now."

And he looked serious. I needed to change the course of the conversation. I came there to dance anyway - that was really it.

"Uhm, wait. I need to get myself another drink. Excuse me."

I flipped my long braided hair and sashayed to the bar. The gorgeous bartender handed my drink of choice and in return, I gave him a crisp bill and a quick tip. He smiled. From where I was, I looked at the boy who had the balls to approach me and make conversation - he was waiting for my return. I thanked the bartender and made my way back to the same spot.

"Can I take a sip?"

"No. You're nineteen."

"Please?"

"No. You're mom's gonna kill me."

"She won't find out."

"No. Go get yourself some soda."

He laughed. I had expected him to leave but instead he hugged me from behind. I felt something hard poking me and it was not his cellphone. He started grinding. I laughed. But the boy's got the moves. I was bent on finding out who I was gonna be up against, just in case.

"Where are you from?"

"Argentina. You?"

"Philippines."

In my mind, he was a possible check on my list. It would have been an easy lay but there just had to be something wrong. There had to be.

"Do you think I might get lucky tonight?"

"Maybe. I don't know. There are lots of guys here anyway."

"Do you think you're gonna be lucky tonight?'

"I don't really feel like hooking up. Just wanna dance."

It was so "untristanly" to refuse a hook up but I was really not into it last night. I just wanted to get to know people and probably make new friends. I shifted the conversation back to wholesome.

"So how do you find the place?"

"The internet. We got the address there and took the train."

"Oh... okay..."

At that point, I knew what I had to do. It was my chance - my perfect excuse.

I did a quick french exit.