The series continues. Previously on Violated – I was pinned up against a column by an unattractive woman. A woman who was three times my size. A woman who I clearly told that I did not want to dance. A woman who left me feeling like a chew toy. What else could possibly happen to me?
One windy night in April a couple of years back I went to a club for a friend’s birthday party. The theme of the night was Soca Queen something so it sounded interesting. I was looking forward to it. Although I’ve been to the place one time before I completely forgot what it looked like. It’s the strangest venue for a club really. It’s a red brick building with white french doors. When you get inside it looks like an old and gloomy gym with a stage and bar. I don’t mean gym as in place to go workout. I mean gym as in elementary school physical education class. After looking around I made my way to the bar where it would all go down.
As usual the bar was crowded. Crowds of people trying to buy overpriced drinks in order to get their swerve on. Someone bumped into me, but I was used to it so I just ignored it and continued to wait for the bartender to acknowledge my existence. A few seconds passed by and I felt the person who just bumped into me was a little too close, even for a crowded bar. I turned and faced my neighbor. The first thing I noticed was that she had a mustache and far too much make up on. Bright red lipstick and teal eye shadow. She looked like somebody’s young grandmother that wasn’t ready to hang it up yet. In a way she reminded me of Mrs. Pearly from the movie Friday After Next. Regardless, she had every right to be there as much as I did so I went back to giving the bartender menacing looks with just my eyes. I was piercing through her soul, but she didn’t know it. Or maybe she did since it seemed like she was intentionally making me wait. Either that or she was in cahoots with my neighbor and was setting me up to be violated.
As I waited, occasionally I felt my neighbor rub against me. It seemed accidental and I figured she didn’t realize how close she was to me so I let it slide. Another time it seemed a little too forceful so I turned to face her again. She innocently looked away. I thought to myself “What the F is going on!?!” I was skeptical after that so I kept my eyes on her using my excellent peripheral vision. The bartender finally realized I wasn’t a life-size cardboard cutout and took my order. Then it happened. My neighbor dropped it like it was hot and was rubbing herself against my leg. If you need a visual, imagine the countless movies you’ve seen where a little dog such as a chihuahua humps a person’s leg. Except she was no chihuahua. I couldn’t move to the left cause there were more patrons tightly squeezed and I wasn’t moving backwards because I’d never get my drink. After all that waiting, I was getting my drink no matter what. My only option was to give my patented “what the f are you doing?” facial expression. It was powerful enough to make her stop, but not go away. She stopped and smiled as if we just had some bomb sex that results in an exchange of hi-5’s. I don’t get why this stuff happens to me.
– Vic Louis