Meeting a Good Girl at the Club

A guy can dream of something like this right?

 

Meeting a Good Girl at the Club

 

Let’s go party my hyper friend says.

After groaning and making excuses I agree.

I admitted that I would rather sit

here relaxing than go drink, dance, and yell.

I put on a black button up

and got in the car for a night downtown.

 

I hate this place I say as we arrive.

The smell of alcohol, sweat, and disdain

fill the dense, smoky air as I order a cup

of coke to stimulate my brain.

I the notice a brunette in a white

and blue skirt bobbing her head to the music.

 

Maybe I can get down just this one time

as I make my way towards her

as Drake’s Practice starts to pulse

a soft bass and melody.

I don’t notice my rapping along

until I hear oh! You know that song too?

 

Amongst the oblivious couples and drunkards

I stammer and reply with a nervous yes.

Usually there is no room to talk

but her voice glided through the noise

as we discussed the music, novels,

artists, and hobbies we enjoyed.

 

Despite the flashing lights glowing

neon green, hot pink, and solar yellow

her blue eyes and beige face stayed clear

and happy. I asked if she wanted to

passionately tango next door and she said

only if she was primetime like Fandango then sure.

 

The way she moved was tantalizing—

contorting her body like a gymnast

as we danced to Bailamos and Spanish Eyes.

Innocent at heart, she danced sensually

as her red, small lips met mine

sending both of us awry.

 

Like our favorite character Gatsby,

we stared into each other’s eyes

knowing our own green light had been

fulfilled. I started to talk but she

put her delicate finger on my lips

and whispered ‘tis better to live in the moment.

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