"OK, that's two teas, two cokes and a water," she said. "You gonna want salads?" She asked it like it was going to be a great deal of trouble for her to deal with bringing us salads, yet she didn't seem any happier when we declined.
She brought our drinks and we ordered our steaks from a chalk-board list hanging on the wall. When I asked for the Colorado-cut t-bone, medium-rare, she looked at me like she was about to say something, but the shrugged and noted it on her pad. Obviously she figured if I ordered it, it was no business of hers if I finished it or not.
The food was slow in coming, and we each had one refill of our drinks while we listened to the music and watched the other patrons getting more relaxed and rowdier with every pitcher of beer or round of drinks. When I was halfway through my second glass of tea, I had to go pee. After a quick mental conference with Neeka, we both got up and headed for the restrooms, which were inconveniently located on the far side of the dance floor.
As we crossed the floor, skirting the few people on it, I watched to see if I could tell what, if any particular dance they were doing. Yvette had never let me near any social function where you got to touch a member of the opposite sex, so the only dancing I had done was in my room, trying to mimic some steps I had seen on TV. These people just seemed to be making up their own steps to the music. Apparently dancing was easier than I had thought.
When I heard the whistles and cat-calls, I looked around to see what the fuss was about. A group of guys in their 20's waved at us, trying to get us to come over to their booth. I waved back, but didn't stop.
The restroom looked like it hadn't been cleaned for a week. I hiked up my short skirt and managed to pee without making contact with the questionable toilet seat, then Neeka and I spent the minimum possible time checking our hair and makeup in the mirror so we could get out of there before we caught something.
We were about to leave when I noticed a coin-operated dispenser on the wall. I pointed it out to Neeka when I saw that it sold condoms in a variety of colors and flavors. I had never seen a condom machine in a women's restroom before. Actually, I had never seen a condom machine before at all. I was tempted to put in 50 cents just for the souvenir, but Neeka shook her head and I decided it wasn't worth washing my hands all over again after touching the machine.
When we left the restroom, two of the guys who had called to us from the table next to the dance floor were waiting in the short hallway. They both had on denim work-clothes, but neither looked or smelled like he had just got off work. They both looked like they had got cleaned up before going out and one of them either had on cologne or the loudest smelling deodorant made. It just about masked the beer on their breath.
The one who closed in on me was only a few inches taller than I am. His shirt had the sleeves torn off, I guessed to better show-off his biceps, which could have used some more work. He had short, curly brown hair and didn't look at all bad, in a rugged, rednecky sort of way.
"Hi there, cutie!" He said, leaning over close to talk into my ear over the noise of the jukebox. "What's your name?"
I had heard of worse lines, even if none of them had been directed at me. This was actually the first time a stranger had tried to pick me up and I was thrilled at the novelty of it.
"I'm Sam," I said. "What's your name?"
He smiled and dropped his eyes to look at my chest before he answered. "I'm Dave. I haven't seen you here before."
I glanced at Neeka before I answered. She was talking to Dave's buddy, probably having the same conversation.
"I haven't been here before. This looks like a fun place."
"It can be. Do you like to have fun?"
"Yes, I do."
"Would you like to come back to my table and visit? There are three of us who would like to get to know you better?"
"I'd like to, but I'm here with friends. I'll dance with you until our food comes, though."
"OK, but at least let me introduce you around first."
I nodded and Dave led the way back to his friends. The one who had come with him hadn't appealed to Neeka. She had gone back to our table to sit with Jim. I asked her to let me know when our food was served.
When we got to the booth, there were two guys waiting. The one who had struck out with Neeka was on one side and the third friend was on the other. I hung my purse on the coat hook next to the booth and slid in beside the third guy.
I expected Dave to sit down opposite me, but he slid into the booth next to me instead. I was squeezed in between Dave and one of his buddies, who half-turned to give me a bit of room. He didn't seem to mind at all having me pressed against him.
Without my seat-cushion, I was back to being the shortest person at the table. The bench seats of the booth were narrow and close to the table. My boobs were forced over the edge. If I wasn't careful, I would bump into someone's glass and get beer spilled all over me.
Dave pointed to the guy across from me. "That's TJ," he said.
"Hi, TJ," I said, "I'm Sam. Nice to meet you."
TJ was bordering on chubby, but it didn't look too bad on him. He had dark hair, which he unfortunately had decided to wear in a mullet. I thought mullets had gone out of style before I was born.
"And the fella next to you is Gator."
"Gator?" I asked. Gator nodded and offered me a hand, which I shook politely.
Dave leaned close to my left ear and said, "His real name is Claude, but he don't like it, so we call him Gator."
Gator had on a fancy hat with an alligator band. The dark sweat-stains that showed through the brim told me it was clearly a prized possession and he rarely took it off. I thought he might be getting a little thin on top and wore the hat to cover it.
"Give Sam a beer," Dave told TJ. TJ slid an already-full glass over in front of me.
"Oh, I really don't think I should..." I started to say. I didn't want to tell them that I had hated the only taste of alcohol I'd ever had.
"Aw, cmon!" TJ said. "One beer won't hurt you none." He edged it co close to me that I had to pick it up or have it dumped onto my boobs.
Once I had the glass in my hand, it seemed only polite to take a sip. The beer wasn't nearly as nasty tasting as I expected. It certainly didn't have the tongue-curling flavor of the bourbon that Fiona Morgan liked. I took another sip and then another. Dave, Gator and TJ watched me expectantly, so I took a long pull and drained half the glass.
When I put it down, TJ said, "Way to go girl!" and filled my glass again from the pitcher. I kept my hand on the glass, but left it on the table. I wanted to see how the beer would affect me before I drank any more of it.
"You guys come here a lot?" I asked.
"Every payday," Dave said, "Regular as clockwork. We come to drink beer and meet pretty girls like you." To emphasize that he was talking about me, Dave patted my knee under the table.
"Why thank you, Dave," I said. "How nice of you to say." Dave's hand was still on my knee, just resting lightly. I wondered how long it would be before it moved.
"So, do you guys work together?" I asked.
"Yeah," Gator said. "We all work for this pulpwood company. Dave and me handle the chainsaws and TJ here runs the grapple."
"I know what a chainsaw is," I said. "But what's a grapple?"
Gator said, "Oh that's a big ol' claw hanging off the back of a two-ton truck. That's how the logs get onto the transport trucks that haul it to the mill down on the coast. TJ just drops the claw down and GRABS the wood."
As he said 'grabs', Gator demonstrated my grabbing my right thigh with his left hand, and squeezing hard about halfway from my hip to my knee. I flinched and squirmed in his grip, as he expected.