My heart rate spikes.
“Oh my God.” I have to laugh, “Why do you keep a bottle of vodka in your car, Dasha?”
“For times like these, baby,” she says, holding it out in front of me.
She exits the freeway, and I take a big gulp. It tastes like rubbing alcohol to me, and there’s no chaser around. I take another swig, and hope to God I feel the effects from it sooner than later.
This is stupid and completely illegal, but I’m going through something, okay?
She pulls into a dark parking lot. A group of females walk past our car, screaming and laughing.
“Give me that.” Dasha steals the bottle from me and takes a sip herself.
“You’re going to get in trouble for carrying that someday,” I say.
“Girl, it’s Detroit. Did I ever tell you about that one time I got pulled over last spring?” she asks.
“Yes, I’ve heard it a million times.” I laugh. “You’re talking about when tha
t cop gave you his number, right?”
“Yes!” she screams, taking two more swigs. I can already tell this is going to be a wild night. I’m bracing myself to hold on. “Fuck, he was kind of hot too.”
“You never called him?” I ask, grabbing the bottle back.
“Hell no! He’d probably handcuff me to his bedpost,” she says. “On second thought, maybe I should have called him back.”
“Where are we anyway?” I ask her. “Some kind of ladies’ night bar?”
“Just you wait,” she says. “This is my present to you. You’re going to have the best night of your life. Guaranteed.”
“I hope so,” I sigh, feeling the alcohol course through my blood. “I guess I’ve been on edge lately. You’re right. I needed to get out of the house a little.”
“Just you wait,” she repeats, smiling to herself.
We walk into the unmarked building.
Inside, we’re bombarded with neon lights, flashing strobes, and speakers that play heavy bass. The thumping sound of drumbeats floods the air.
I regret walking into this place when I see what’s in front of me.
“Welcome to heaven,” Dasha says, laughing hysterically.
“A male strip club?” I scream. “You brought me to a male strip club? Oh, Jesus. I have to leave now.”
“Come on, don’t be too loud. People will hear you,” she says. “And don’t even think about leaving.”
On the stage is a man in some sort of speedo-thong combination. It’s funny, I guess, but it also somehow keeps reminding me of how Rocco is the perfect man for me.
I feel depressed.
“I don’t think I want to be here,” I tell her. “I feel weird about this.”
“What? Like you’re cheating?” She pulls me to a table near the stage and orders us some drinks. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just having fun. It’s not like I come here to get my fix of dick.”
I put my face in my hands and sigh. Okay, I’ll just stick it out. I’m not a prude. I can laugh with her.
When the server comes back with our drinks, I tell her to bring another one. I know this night is going to be a long one, and I might as well get a little liquored up. I down the first drink and wait for the second, trying to smile.