Cheerleaders Part III of a Series

The boyfriend’s funeral was the following week and all three of the girls attended.  I watched from a distance using binoculars wondering why there were tears being shed for a man who so obviously cared nothing for anyone but himself.  He had hit her for God’s sake.  Did she not remember this?  I was unsure how long they had been seeing each other or how imbedded in the roommate’s life he had become but regardless of his actions she had and still held feelings for him.  It was not a huge crowd but there were enough in attendance to keep appearances at an admirable level.  After the funeral the four of us went to Straights, a local bar on Burlingame Ave. and started letting the alcohol flow freely.  I of course was still not sitting with the girls or Amber but watched from a distance at the bar.

It was a never ending procession of guys that paraded through their table and then like a slingshot were hurled back again in continuous fashion.  One after another they were shot down as the girls politely asked to be left alone stating they had a death in the family and were not interested in the small talk of getting to know somebody for the first time.  They were getting a little short the more drinks they had and at one point were telling the men to please just leave them the hell alone.  I chuckled at a couple of guys who were trying repeatedly and lacked the ability to take no for an answer.  Guys are so focused on the wrong approach with women that it sometimes amazes me we are possible to procreate at all.  My associated sex is not lacking for brains but they seem to be lacking in an ability to deal with the opposite sex on any level playing field.

The two men were now going in for their third try but something about one of them caught my eye and I started to worry.  It was the way his jaw was set and he held his hand in a clenched fist like he had too much pent up anxiety  He was like a balloon that had too much air yet you continued to blow knowing it might explode at any given moment.  His friend was loud and boisterous so everyone in the bar was either directly or indirectly watching the show as his booming voice was demanding attention.  They were not taking the latest rebuff well and were insisting on sitting down at the table with the girls despite the visible protests and finally Amber stood up saying she felt it was time they just left.  It was at that point where one of the men placed his hand on her shoulder and forcefully pushed her down into a seat bellowing out that she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Confrontation is something that I have never shied away from.  I think most men have never been hit in their life and it is the unknown that scares people more than what you know.  I have been hit several times and it is easy to take as it normally doesn’t hurt until several minutes to an hour after.  It can hurt a lot at that point mind you but the initial impact is pretty minor unless something gets broken.  I jumped out of my seat and within seconds was on top of the two guys hurtling the space separating us with a couple of long strides.  I grabbed the one by the shoulder and made a quick judgment call as I caught a glimpse of Amber’s facial expression from across the table.  Have you ever seen the movie “Next” with Nicolas Cage?  There is a scene when he first meets a woman where he travels back and forth through time for a couple of minutes attempting several scenarios to get her to speak to him.  Beating up the guy doesn’t work, humiliating the guy doesn’t work, the only thing that wins in the end is was letting the guy beat him up.

Most guys are not brave enough or smart enough to try this approach but something told me this was the way to go.  So just before I was ready to take out the guys Adam’s apple I dropped my right hand and watched the slow arching fist coming at me finally connecting with my right cheek.  If I had a drink at the table I could have picked it up, chugged a couple of gulps, sat it back down had a bite of appetizers on the table, chewed swallowed and then waited a little longer before he actually connected.  The most difficult part was trying to stand still long enough to let the guy hit me.  When he did connect I purposely stumbled back a few steps then looked him in the eye as I shoved my elbow in his friend’s ribs from behind.  I don’t mind being hit once but there was no need to take a beating.

The altercation ended rather quickly as they were surrounded by several male employees of the bar and escorted out.  I was given a drink and then as I hoped was asked by Amber if I wanted to sit down and join them for a few minutes before they left.  I graciously accepted and we then spent the next couple of hours discussing all of the things you talk about when you first meet somebody.  It was a great first date story.  How we first met.  We could tell the kids several years from now that dad had saved mom from two huge guys in a bar and how I had beaten them soundly.  You have to win every fight in a story as it gets retold over the years.  As Amber was getting ready to leave and I was walking her to the door she realized that her two friends had already gone.  She had not even noticed them leaving as we were so engrossed in each other’s comments hanging on every word even though this was the first time we had connected.

I offered to walk her home since she had stated she lived close by and she accepted rather quickly.  It was a clear night in the mid 60’s but for walking down Burlingame Ave. it was perfect.  It was hard for me not to lead since I knew so well where she lived.  I in no way wanted to let her know this and my guard was still up as I carefully navigated the topics of discussion as if I was learning about her for the first time.  She was not just a pretty face but as I had felt from our first meeting she was a genuine person. 

Once we reached her doorstep we were both sobering up but still feeling a little lingering effect from the alcohol.  It was dusk out now and as the sun was almost beyond the horizon only the smallest sliver remained.  I placed my arm around her waist and felt her body softly fold into my arms.  Her lips were full and perfectly round shaping a small oval that stood out with her reddish lipstick from her cream colored complexion.  She could have been in a magazine as the only thing I had ever seen as close to this perfection was airbrushed photos of models.  My other arm wrapped around her waist as I brought her close to me gently enveloping her as are lips came together.

The excitement was erupting inside of me bursting the seams of my being as it threatened to escape at any instant.  The pressure was not like anything I had ever felt before and my control waivered as I felt her tongue hesitantly exploring the inside of my mouth.  I held her small torso feeling like I towered over her as she was no more than 5.1 and could not possible weigh more than 100 pounds.  Her full blonde hair was brushing my cheek slightly as the steam from our kiss heightened with each small turn of our heads.  Our kiss was gaining a life of its own as we continued our connection with the swords of our mouths dueling back and forth taking turns at dominating then folding over in submission.

Her fingers spread wide letting my hair glide through them as she ran her hands over my head cupping it from the back holding me close to her as she continued the exploration of my mouth with the sweet taste of her tongue.  I allowed my hands to slip down to her butt caressing her backside firmly pulling her tightly next to me as we embraced each other completely.  She opened her eyes for a second letting my glimpse the blue orbs of her soul that threatened to suck me into the blissful beauty of everything  a cheerleader was ever meant to be.  She softly whispered in my ear asking me if I wanted to come up to her apartment for a drink, letting the words fall gently as her tongue slightly touched my earlobe and her breath sent a shiver through me canal into my body like a tidal wave.

I accepted her invitation and we parted long enough to climb the staircase to her apartment.

A B’Day Dinner Gone Bad

Having a teenage girl lends you to flexibility as you can never fully be sure of what to expect or what might happen.  As everyone who knows me is now aware my daughter just turned 15.  Her actual b’day was yesterday and as such I had planned on taking her out to dinner allowing her to take her best friend and then my two youngest accompanied as well.  I left work early so I could pick everyone up and give them enough time to head home, change into dresses and head out.

As will all events surrounding girls of this age the evening started out with a little drama when I suggested that my oldest brush her hair before heading out.  This was apparently not an appropriate comment and the repercussions threatened the evening from the start.  My daughter informed me that she could not brush her hair as it gets frizzy when she brushes it and I had now made her feel uncomfortable by even suggesting it.  I am still not sure what I did but we all left the house and only three out of the four of us had hair that was detangled.  I have long ago learned that you can make suggestions to teenagers but when their minds are set they cannot be swayed with any form of logic.  Much like marriage hahaha.

So on the way to pick up her best friend and in talking about everyone’s day I discovered that my oldest had been sleeping all afternoon.  I didn’t think much of it at the time but between the short temper and her napping it should have clicked that we might be in trouble.  We made it to the restaurant and upon being seated ordered our drinks and started the idle chatter of important topics ranging from why my youngest couldn’t play with a discarded lobster shell even though it looked pretty to our past weekend party of drama.  Just after the drinks were served and in the middle of appetizers my oldest got the chills and suggested that we should head home.

I don’t fully understand the hot and cold extremes in life.  I felt horrible that she was sick and she must have really felt bad to want to leave since the entire evening was her request and we were following the suggested path to the smallest detail.  This was not how any of us envisioned the plan but we picked up our artistic renderings from my youngest and headed home.  I dropped off her best friend, gave my oldest some Nyquil and sat down for the evening a little hungry but lacking the energy to now think of making dinner.  Flexibility with kids is so important.  The best laid formula will never go as scripted and if you can jump the hurdles without scraping your legs life will just be easier to handle.

Looks like we will be trying again in a few days and I will let you know how that goes.  In the meantime I can only cross my fingers and hope that whatever she has doesn’t start with an s and end in an e with the last word being flu.  My drama filled life doesn’t need to be quarantined for the next several days.  I would go stir crazy.  Hopefully my oldest will deal with the postponement ok and be herself this morning ready to jump up and face some new challenges.