Chapter One: The Proposition
I finished my second Jack and Coke, then placed the empty glass back on the bar-top and signalled the bartender for another. He made it promptly enough, but I was in no rush to drink it. Speaking honestly, I merely wanted to buy myself some more time at the bar before cashing it in.
All night, four middle-aged women had been sitting across from me, whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves and occasionally glancing in my direction. I was only twenty at the time and had barely mastered the ability to talk to girls my own age, so approaching them seemed entirely out of the question. My battle-plan – as painful as it is to admit now – was to wait until they either directly engaged me in conversation or until one of the women made a gesture so overt, I simply had to acknowledge it.
Time passed. I nursed my drink and gobbled handfuls of peanuts, while watching the sun set over the lake, through the bar-room’s wide patio windows. The Lakeside Hotel & Tavern was built nearly two-hundred years ago, back when the lake was first charted by pioneers. Any prestige which that factoid might generate for the establishment evaporates once you step inside. The wood-work in the tavern had a decidedly dank appearance and smell. The two floors of hotel-rooms above creaked incessantly. Now-a-days, The Lakeside Hotel & Tavern mostly served local alcoholics, but on Sunday nights, it attracted a very different cliental: married, middle-aged women who were seeking younger men for affairs – younger men, like me.
More time passed. And eventually, my pathetic battle-plan worked. The tallest of the four women waved toward me playfully. A moment later, she motioned toward the empty bar-stool beside her. I nodded, finished the last of my third Scotch and Coke in one belated gulp, then stood from the bar.
The tall woman introduced herself: “I’m Hannah.” Her hair was blond, her eyes were alarmingly blue. Then, Hannah tilted her head toward the woman sitting beside her, who was considerably shorter. “That’s Sharon”, she said. Sharon giggled to herself, then looked immediately down into her drink. Hannah rolled her eyes, then pointed to the woman farthest away from her. “And that’s Maggie.” Maggie smiled toward me, wearing a Mona Lisa expression I couldn’t decipher.
“I’m David”, I said, meeting each woman’s gaze in turn, trying to be as all-inclusive about my introduction as possible. Then, I realized Hannah had left someone out of her introductions: the woman sitting between Sharon and Maggie. Unable to stop my eye-brows from rising comedically high, I asked: “And you are?”
The woman stared back at me for what felt like an eternity. Her eyes were green, shinny from too much champagne. Her features were small, mouse-like. “That’s the Bride to be”, Hannah said.
“I see”, I said, sitting down at the empty bar-stool beside Hannah. “It’s nice to meet you all.”
After I had sat down, an immediate silence fell over the bar-room, suffocating all conversation dead. My mind began reeling, trying to think of something clever to say. Every second that ticked past seemed to make the silence somehow heavier, harder to intrude upon. What I came up with to break the sudden silence was mediocre at best: “So, when is the wedding?” Hannah smiled. “Tomorrow.”
“So, I assume this is a Bachelorette Party?” The even and detached tone with which I spoke surprised me, but if I thought my eye-brows had finished rising to comedic heights, I was wrong.
Hannah nodded. “Impressive choice of venue, isn’t it?” She glanced around the bar-room, then looked back at me. Behind Hannah, Sharon was still blushing into her cock-tail and the ‘Bride to be’ was looking down at the bar-top pensively; Maggie, however, continued to look at me with her unwavering poker-face. “Buy us another round”, Hannah said. “Then you can help us drink the mini-fridge upstairs dry.”
We drank at the bar for another ten minutes, roughly.
They asked me if I was in University, I said I was. They asked me if I had a girl-friend, I said I didn’t. Then, they asked me if I thought the Bride was beautiful. I said she was gorgeous. Hannah laughed at that dismissively, then finished her drink and announced it was time to go upstairs.
To Be Continued…
An Afterword
I hope you enjoyed my story. If you have any spelling or grammar corrections you'd like to make, I'd be delighted to hear them. All feedback is greatly appreciated.
Take care of each other. And thank you for reading.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/3s8z3y/a_conspiracy_amongst_bridesmaids_1_mffff
Jack Daniels is not Scotch.