I hollered at the bartender for another round of cocktails, piercing music playing in the background grated on my nerves. I slumped one hand down on the counter, the other hand stroking my ears.
“Here.” The bartender poured me a drink as I was about to gulp it down, Lucy held my hand to stop me.
“Sarah, that’s enough, you’ll get drunk,” Lucy reprimanded, a frown etched on her face.
I frowned as my gaze shifted to her. “If you feel embarrassed to watch me drink, just go away,” I spat, a hiccup tearing through the pit of my diaphragm.
Her expression turned sour, her eyes piercing with a glare. “I was only concerned. Anyways, you’re pathetic,” she huffed.
I rolled my eyes, not bothered by her scoff. “Whatever.”
“I hope you don’t fall into the gutter, drink responsibly, okay,” she said, her nose twitched, poking her balled fist at me before walking away to the dance floor.
I finished the drink in the glass and turned to the bartender. He immediately poured me a glass, a smirk playing on his lips, seemingly amused by our argument.
“Did a guy break your heart?”
I gulped my drink whole, feeling a bit dizzy. “No, he crushed it,” I blurted out, hiccups following.
He chuckled, pouring me another glass. “Take heart, okay, look around you, there are so many guys who need a curvaceous woman like you.”
I rolled my eyes, uninterested in the idea of giving myself to guys my age. “Yeah, I think I’m into older guys. None of them are good enough for me,” I said, shaking my head vigorously in an attempt to clear my vision, but it was futile. “Being tipsy is weird,” I muttered under my breath.
The bartender stared at me incredulously before chuckling. “Older guy kind?”
A subtle frown crossed my face when I heard that. Did I blurt that out? His chuckling turned into a fit of laughter. “I didn’t expect that from a lady like yourself. I’m good at reading girls, but I never thought you would be more interested in older guys.”
I covered my ears, my blurry vision worsening, making me frustrated. “Another drink, please,” I ordered him, and he complied immediately.
My eyes trailed the liquor pouring into the glass.
What am I doing? I have never drunk more than one bottle of beer, and here I am drinking more than five glasses of strong cocktails. Am I planning on getting myself killed?
I shook off that thought, letting myself do what I felt like at the moment.
I couldn’t count how many glasses I had consumed, but I knew I wasn’t drunk enough to be wasted.
“Hey, are you still there?” The bartender waved his hand over my face. My eyes slowly followed his. What am I seeing? I think I am having a double vision; how did he have two palms stuck to one hand?
“Oh boy, I am kidding myself.”
“Hey.” He tried to get my attention, not knowing I was far from reality.
Just then, I felt a soft tap on my shoulders. My sluggish gaze shot to who disturbed my peaceful meditation.
“Don’t tell me you’re drunk,” Helen scrunched up her face, a look of slight disgust on her face.
“Okay, I am not drunk,” I replied sarcastically with a silly smile, to which she responded with a scoff. “You’re wasted. How am I supposed to introduce you to him now?”
I rolled my eyes, leaning on the counter. “Whatever.” I could hear a low huff coming from Helen, but I didn’t care about what got her frustrated or disappointed.
She sat beside me with a worried expression. “Sarah, why did you drink so much? I didn’t know you would be so irresponsible in drinking. You have never gotten drunk like this before. Where’s that Lucy I told to watch you?”
Her words felt like rambling in my ears; all my focus was trying to get my vision clear.
I felt a vibration in my ears, annoyed, I tugged on my lobes. “What’s that?”
“The sound of your phone ringing, fool!” Helen snapped, lifting my phone to my face. I brushed it off; everything felt so annoying to me.
“Don’t you want to answer it or should I?” She asked, raising her eyebrow at me. “Whatever,” I waved dismissively.
“Who’s Mr….” Her remaining sentence dissipated into thin air.
The next minute, she started tugging my arm. “Sarah, come on, get up. Someone wants to speak to you on the phone.”
She kept tugging my arm desperately. I let her continue, ignoring her because I had bigger problems at the moment.
I couldn’t see clearly.
“Sa…” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Hello, I just realized she is so drunk, she is completely wasted.”
My ears caught her last statement. Who is she talking to?
“Hey, I’m not wasted,” I spat, flashing her an angry stare, but my vision betrayed me again.
“I think you should take her out of here,” I heard the bartender say. “Put her to sleep, she seems not able to handle the amount of alcohol.”
“No, someone wants to pick her up from here. If we leave, it might be hard for him to find her,” Helen replied.
I silently listened to their conversation; I was able to grasp her conversation on the phone… Wait a minute, who is coming to pick me up?
I sat up, raising my head from the counter. A hiccup tore from my throat as I shook my head, trying to steady my vision.
“You, Sarah, you’ve ruined everything. When you’re back to your normal senses, I’ll deal with you.” She sighed in frustration. I don’t know what she is so frustrated about.
I didn’t know how long she continued rambling and scolding me for getting drunk.
“Sarah…”
Suddenly, I heard my name. That voice sounded so familiar. I turned my head to the left and saw a tall figure giving me a disappointed look.
It seemed everyone was so disappointed in me lately. My eyes traveled all over him, then I made out who was standing in front of me.
“Mr. Clinton…” My voice was barely audible as I continued staring at him. A slight smile played on my lips, feeling a sense of satisfaction seeing him looking at me with those caring eyes.
“Come here…” He held my arm, lifting me up from the stool.
“Who are you to her?” I heard Helen ask beside me. “Oh, you’re the one we saw at the mall that day…”
I didn’t hear Mr. Clinton respond to her earlier question; he just grabbed my phone lying on the counter and pulled me out of the club.
My smile never faltered as I looked at his back with dreamy eyes. Gosh, he is so breathtaking… I chuckled.
He stopped at the car, opening the door. “What’s so funny? I haven’t scolded you for getting drunk,” his admonishing sounded pleasing to my ears. I chuckled again, my hand nestling deeper into his arm while my body swayed from the influence of alcohol.
I quickly held his hand to stop him from shoving me inside the backseat. “Sarah,” he called me, irked by my behavior.
I swayed closer, my body melting into him as our faces drew nearer. The air was electric with tension, our lips almost brushing against each other. I could feel the warmth of his breath, a gentle caress of his hard chest against mine.
He tried pulling away, but I still threw myself at him, not ready to let go of this opportunity to steal as many intimate moments as I could. My mind was roaming with dirty thoughts. Then I blurted out one I felt like saying at the moment.
“You’re one hot middle-aged man I would love to take on tonight.”