The Feet of God

54 - GOTTA DANCE

Carmella came around again, but this time I asked her for a Miller Genuine Draft instead of another Old Methuselah.  All the dudes opted for PBR, which I guess is their $2 canned beverage of choice.

Our conversation turned to chicks (no surprise there) and the four boys expressed their obvious desire to make the acquaintance of the three babes seated nearby.  I told them I was a lady’s man from way back (which might be true, or it might be the alcohol talking, who knows?), and I offered ‘em some advice.  “Now you see,” I hunched down and lowered my voice like we was in on somethin’ hush-hush, “to get to know the young ladies, you should earn their confidence by approaching the older ones first.”

“You’re outta your freakin’ mind,” a dude sneered with slitted eyes.

“Hey, trust me.  All ya gotta do is go over to those nice older ladies sitting over there with the gay guy.  Ask ‘em if they’d like to dance.  They’re women.  All women love to dance.”

“What about the turd burglar?” a dude interjected.

“Oh, don’t pay him no nevermind.”

“Okay, we get them to dance,” a dude smirked, “so what?”

“Well, give ‘em a few turns around the floor, and let the young chicks see how much of a good time you’re all having, while also demonstrating your gentlemanly qualities.  Then you can, you know, invite them to dance, too.  All in innocent fun.  You’ll have their confidence,” I winked.  “And before you know it, you’re halfway to home base.”

The dudes looked at each other for a moment then broke out in snickering laughs.  “That’s fucking genius,” one of them whooped, and the other three punched his arms.

“Sound like a plan?” I asked the boys.  Four heads nodded as one.  “Good,” I looked from one bright shining face to another.

As they got up from our table I settled back in my chair, tilted my MGD longneck, and waited to watch the floor show.  As the dudes went up to the old ladies, I honestly had no idea what would happen next.  But to my shock and surprise, those gals had the boys out on the floor in a flash, and in less than two shakes they had the whole damn place learning how to line dance.  Just about everybody was swingin’ and swayin’, including all the men from the bar, Marvin, Nancy, Carmella, and especially, the three hot babes.

I begged off their invitation to join in, having had enough excitement for one day.  All I wanted was to sit for a bit and enjoy a few frosty cold ones.  It looked like Carmella was having a ball out there dancing with everyone and wouldn’t be servicing anyone soon.  So after I finished my bottle I headed over to the bar to self-service myself another cold one.

“Same?” the bartender asked while bending into the cooler.

“Yep,” I replied.

Just to my left, at the corner, leaning into the bar, was the only other patron not dancing besides me:  the tall skinny guy who’d come in at the same time as the four gals and Marvin.  I glanced over.  Green eyes glowed out of a long golden face.  He nodded again.

I nodded in return.

I threw a fiver on the bar to pay for my frosty longneck.  After getting my beer and pocketing my change I started to head back to the table.  But for some reason I turned and asked the stranger, “You from around here?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“That so?”

“Just passing through.”

“Where to?”

“Florida.”

“You driving?”

“Hitching.”  I pointed with my thumb toward the dudes, “I caught a ride with those crazy boys over there, and we just stopped in here for a couple’a shots and beers, and maybe have us a little fun.”

“Staying out of trouble?” the man’s eyes darted toward the dancing females.

“Yeah,” I shrugged and smiled.  “Dammit.”

“Florida, huh?”  The stranger sat up a bit.  “I’m to Tennessee myself.”

I just nodded as I set my beer down.

About then the door slammed open and three burly guys in hunting jackets and caps with floppy ears clomped in right past the bar where the stranger and I stood, and they proceeded straight to the dance area.

Although the music still played everyone stopped in their tracks, and several amateur line dancers stumbled over each other.  Darlene looked frightened, and from the looks of these guys, maybe she had good reason to be.

The littlest of the three big men stepped forward.  “Darlene, wha’chu doin’ here?  I come home and the lights are out and there’s nothin’ to eat and you and the kids is gone.  I called over to your mama’s to see if you was there and she don’t know where you are.  We been driving all over hell and back lookin’ for you.  Where are the kids?”

Darlene looked like she was about to bust into tears, but her friend sure wasn’t.  “Shut the fuck up, Jimbo.  The kids are at my mother’s house.  We’re just having a little fun, something you might not know nothing about.”

He fired back, “Stay out of this, Tammy.  It was probably your idea in the first place to have her go out drinking and not leave word where she is, ain’t it?”

“Oh, like anyone knew where you been all day?” Tammy shot back, real defiant.

“Hey, I was gone huntin’, she knew that, like it’s any of your business, so butt out.”

While Jimbo and Tammy argued back and forth, all the men and the women spread themselves out behind the girls in silent support.  Then the dude who drove us here sprung up in Darlene’s defense, “Hey, dude, she wasn’t doin’ nothin’ ‘cept having a good time.  Chill.”

Jimbo flared hotter, “Who the hell are you?  She’s my fucki
n’ wife.  What are you, one of her fancy friends?”

Now the girl with chestnut-colored hair stepped forward, “Yeah, Jimbo, we’re all her fancy friends.  Does that bother a big man like you?  Your wife and I were showing everyone the Alpharetta Hustle.  You wanna get a beer and join in, or are you just gonna stand there and piss and moan all night long?”

At this point the bartender laid a shotgun on the bar for all to see.  The three hunters took notice, and instead of escalating the confrontation they decided to back off.

Jimbo spit on the hardwood floor.  He pointed at Darlene, “You just don’t be out after midnight, you hear me?”  The three men stormed out of the bar.

Carmella hollered over to the bartender, “Good work, Sam.  I think we could all use a shot.  Drinks on the house!”

The crowd went wild.

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