Tales From the Gay Bar – ”The Blue Boobed Girl” or ”Grab it and Run”

Posted: August 17, 2013 in TFTGB
Tags: , , , ,

So yesterday I told you of The Baby Dyke and her ways and customs. This time I will tell you about another sort of young girl. She’s 16 and is not quite sure if she’s gay or straight, but she did kiss a girl this one time so she just tells people she’s bi. Not her parents of course because they totally wouldn’t understand.

We shall have to give our young protagonist a name. Hmm how about Violet since it’s a shade of blue? You see blue is her favorite color. Her eyes are blue and her shoes are blue and one time she dyed a blue streak in her hair, but she had to wash it out because her mom got mad. And tonight, tonight her dress will be blue too. She only just bought it and it’s beautiful.

Tonight is going to be big! Violet turned 16 two weeks ago and now she can get in to the gay parties in town. She’s going with all her friends that are old enough, the others will probably try to sneak in. Oh god, that one time she tried to get in even though she was only 15. It was so nerve-wrecking standing in line with her sisters ID. And getting rejected in the door, she almost cried. Almost.

But tonight nothing can stop her. You see they let people in when they are 16, even if you aren’t allowed to drink, not until you’re 18. 18, that’s so far away! Violet can’t wait till she’s 18, the day after her birthday she’s moving out. Goodbye mom, goodbye dad, have a great life!

Text message from Sheila “Hay, u ready 4 tonight? Kat got sum pills if u wanna try”

Oh yeah, she forgot about that. Well Sheila’s done it at least three times, and she just had fun. No, she will try it, at least just so she can say she has. Okay, time to get ready.

At Sheila’s place they have WKD’s and shots. Sheila is so lucky, her mom let’s her do everything, and she has a room in the basement with her own exit so she can get out when she wants to. They smoke cigarettes; Sheila says she has smoked since she was 14. Violet doesn’t like the taste at all, but she smokes them anyway.

Kat has her hand all the way down her pants, she’s grinning as she pulls out a tiny, clear ziplock bag. “Had to make sure the folks didn’t find it, didn’t I”. She opens the bag and dumps three little pills on the table. In between all the bottles and ashtrays they look so innocent. Like they could just be the ones Violet takes for cramps.

Kat hands them out, one for Sheila, one for Kat, and one for Violet. They swallow and Violet’s pill is stuck in her throat. She takes a big gulp of WKD and it’s down. No way back now. They each grab an extra WKD and walk to the bus stop. Violet keeps thinking when the pill will kick in.

It doesn’t. They get on the bus and everything is normal. They get off at the station and walk to the party, still nothing. They stand in line and suddenly, everything changes. She can see the music and it’s blue, everything is blue in fact. She looks at Sheila, her face is blue. She looks like an over-sized smurf. Violet starts laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing. Her voice sounds like crystal glasses taping against each other. Sheila is mad now, she is telling her to be quiet or they won’t get in. Of course they will, nothing can stop Violet, she’s wearing a blue dress!

She’s keeps it together enough to get past the entrance. Once in she heads immediately for the dance floor. The DJ is amazing and absolutely beautiful. It’s like she is talking to Violet through the music. Someone’s left their beer on one of the speakers. Violet doesn’t really like beer, but she grabs it anyway, it gives her something to do with her fiddling hands.

She drinks and finds another once it’s empty. She’s dancing and laughing and drinking and whirling and suddenly so very tired. But there’s nowhere to rest, everything is so loud. She goes to the toilet. Here at last a little peace and quiet.

(So far so good right? I mean it’s a little different from the other two stories, but I felt it needed some back-story. So I made one up. Yes, yes I know, I’m a filthy liar, but I couldn’t just dump you into the story where I come in. It would be much too confusing and there would be too many notes and parenthesis so I could explain it all. Anyway this is the part where I and my good friend and coworker Ray come in, you ready? Let’s go!)

So it’s a big gay party and as usual I’m in charge of the whole shebang (get it, she-bang, because of the lesbians). Around 2 AM I get a call over the walkie from Ray. He is my second in command that evening and this is the conversation:

• Ray: “Neo to Ray, Neo to Ray”
• Neomety: “Neo here, over”
• Ray: “I have a situation in the bathrooms, need assistance, over”
• Neomety: “Roger that, ETA 30 seconds, over”
• Ray: “Roger, over”

Nah I’m bullshitting you. It was more like “Uhhhm Neo, you should come take a look at this, I’m in the bathrooms” “Aight, be there in a mo” Yeah we don’t do radio etiquette.

Back to the story: I push through the constant flow from dance floor to bar to bathroom to dance floor, dodging a few hysterical Powder Puffs (and maybe an ex or two) and I make it to Ray. He’s standing there in this tiny little stall and he seems to just fill it up completely. It’s as if the light has to vacate the room, just so he will fit. You see Ray is big, not fat, but big. He’s 205 cm, that’s 6 feet 8.7 inches for the Americans and 25 and a half hands for horse salesmen from the middle ages. And he weighs in at about 120 kilos, that’s 264.6 pounds for the Americans and 18.9 stone for the Brits.

Enough maths for now. The stall was tiny and Ray is big. That’s what I tried to convey. Ahem, okay, in this tiny stall, on the floor, between Rays size 56 shoes (19, Americans) is a small girl in a beautiful blue dress. (SPOILER: it’s Violet) She’s passed out, so I kick in to “oh no” mode and do the first thing I always do in these situations. I grab around her shoulder, close to her neck and I squeeze firmly. This is a pain response thing, if they react, well I won’t say they’re okay, but it’s really bad if they don’t react.

She yelps, well she’s not dead. I lift her head; open an eyelid and her pupils are the size of dinner plates. Drugs. I (gently you guys, I’m not a violent woman by nature) slap her cheeks a bit to see if I can get her to wake up a bit. No go. Okay, this is starting to draw a crowd; I need her somewhere quiet and out of the public eye so I can work in peace. The break room it is.

Ray lifts her up like she weighs nothing. Hes carrying her like you carry your bride across the doorstep. In his arms she looks even tinier. We make our way through the crowd; I walk ahead and get people out of the way. I love it when I get to push the gay boys around a bit. Suddenly I hear Ray’s voice behind me “Uh oh, Oh oh shit. Neo, dude, faster, faster, she’s slipping!” His arms are locked by the crowd swarming around us, all he can do is try not to drop her, but she keeps slowly slipping out of his arms. Meanwhile I’m in front of them, trying to shout people out of my way. “MOVE, MOVE YOU FRIGGING TWATS, I’LL HAVE YA ALL KICKED OUT UNLESS YOU MOVE, NAAAOOW!!!”

And that’s when it happened. This beautiful moment, this once in a lifetime event, which I missed because I was busy shouting at gay people and I couldn’t have turned round if I tried. Violet slipped down Ray’s arms, and as she slipped, she turned a little. Just enough for Ray to clamp his enormous hand down on something to hold her by. Something, anything, to keep this girl from falling completely out of his grasp.

We finally make our way through the mass of people and to the break-room. I hold the door and Ray walks in sideways with his back to me. Then he turns around. The biggest shit-eating grin on his face I have ever seen and he nods downwards. I look in the direction he is nodding. I see a young girl, passed out in his arms and I don’t quite understand. That is until I see his hand. This hand, this humongous hand. Clamped down on any part he could, literally, get his hands on, just to not drop her. And he’s gotten a hold on her…

…Boob.

He’s holding this poor girl by her boob and he is grinning like a maniac. I can’t help it. All concern for this poor soul flies out the window as I break down in tears. Tears of laughter that is. I actually get to my knees and rock back and forth trying my hardest not to piss my pants. And then there’s a knock on the door.

Ray quickly deposits the girl on the couch and wipes the smirk of his face. I attempt to wipe my tears and the look of immense joy of mine, I’m afraid I did a fairly poor job. Yet it didn’t matter much. You see the knock was her friends, and they were high as balls and concerned as shit.

We got her and her friends into an ambulance to go get her stomach pumped. I heard from her mom a couple of days later, apologizing her daughters behavior, assuring me she would get a stern talking-to and thanking me very much for taking good care of her. But she also asked me a question; did I know if her daughter had fallen somewhere? Because she had a huge bruise on her chest, it was almost. And she paused for a second. Handshaped?!?

So that was The Blue Boobed Girl or Grab it and Run. What did you think?

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