Dan, Dan - the One Night Stand

"Where are you going?" In the middle of my arduous mission to weave a path to the bathroom through the sea of people, a guy has grabbed me and is now attempting to sit me on his lap.

"To the bathroom!" I yell, over the music. The bar, which I have awarded cool status solely because their funky music is nothing more than a cool selection of mp3s being played on winamp, is small and overcrowded.

"No you're not!" The guy says (and he is cute, I remember thinking - but then, I was somewhat intoxicated), "you don't need to!"

"Yes I do!" I reply. Wriggling myself free, I continue to barge my way through to the bathroom.

Eventually, I get there and join the end of the ever-growing queue. Looking around Sleaze Central (actually, the bar is called Provador), I think to myself: this is the kind of thing I once actually enjoyed doing.

I am out without the Boy, or any boy for that matter, for the first time in a long while. The attention, although flattering, is somewhat overwhelming.

Earlier that night, as I sat alone in the cab on my way to the University bar where I had arranged to meet Therese, everything seemed alien and wrong, and even a little frightening.

Since Boy and I started going out, I have not been in a cab by myself after dark. I have not needed to. Pre-Boy, this was the kind of thing I used to do every weekend, without fail: fearlessly travelling alone at night - catching cabs, buses, or rides with random strangers, even walking. Sometimes, I even ended up staying nights at random people's flats (or warehouses, in one case). Safety was not an issue then, because I didn't care.

Now, I felt like a little girl.

Nine fifteen was the arranged meeting time. By nine thirty, Therese had yet to make an appearance, and I sat alone on the wooden bench, watching the two random skateboarders that had arrived not long after me jumping off and on tables. There was a certain serenity about the scene.

I must remember to go out without him more often. I thought.

It's not that I need to be with Boy. I just like having him around. Often, people ask me why we are never apart: "Don't you get sick of being together all the time?". I find it hard to explain the way I feel. I never get sick of being with him. I want to be with him; being around him - his presence - makes me happy.

But once in a while is okay. A pleasant change. The cool air pleasantly brushed my face, and there was still no sign of Therese. I did spot, however, Jonno and the handful of people that had shown up for his celebratory birthday drinks (he had turned 21 the day before) coming down the stairs that led up to the bar.

The original plan was to meet up with Jonno and whoever else might have shown up (an embarrassingly poor turnout - even Jonno himself admitted), have a few drinks then go into town. The party descending from the stairs, however, indicated that a change of plans might be in order. The bar had closed - they informed me after exchanging quick greetings. Now, they were open to ideas.

"We can go to the London Bar..." I suggested. Nobody agreed. Nobody disagreed. Someone grunted. So, we sat around the table until Therese showed up (five minutes later), and made our way to the London Bar.

"Oh my God..." Therese said upon entering the Bar.

"What?" I looked at her curiously. I was glad she was there. The rest of the party were as interesting as hibernating badgers, and we had no intention of hanging around (thus our adventures in Provador - where our awesome escape plan had landed us). Actually, Jonno's Birthday had very little to do with my coming into town - I had just wanted to drink. I needed to drink. [Excessive stress at home - go figure.]

"I almost forgot... until I came here!"

"What?!"

"That guy at the bar... when I came up with Steve and Mark one night - they left me and I ended up taking him home! Nothing happened though... oh shit! I hope he doesn't remember!"

I looked at the bartender, who was looking at Therese with an amused smirk. Suddenly, I was reminded of Dan.

Ahh, the days of one night stands. I had a few in my day - but only one with a complete stranger. At the time, I was seeing Bart and we were having an off period. We were always having on and off periods. One day, he would be happy with me; the next, he would not want to see, or even talk, to me. It drove me crazy.

For some reason - probably because I was feeling sorry for myself for the way Bart was treating me - I had agreed to go out with Tongue Mike. Sufficiently tipsy from drinking at the bar beforehand, we decided to go to a dance club. My intentions had been to dance, and have a good time (sans boys). Walking through the club I was nabbed by Bart who had messaged me earlier to see what I was up to. After a brief 'hi' and a passionate (for someone who didn't want to see me) kiss, he left, and I followed Mike onto the dance floor.

We danced undisturbed for the first few songs, but, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the short (but buff and good looking) guy in the white shirt edging his way towards us. Soon, he was dancing opposite me. He backed away, as I turned to dance with Mike, concerned that he might be feeling left out - but he waved me away casually and disappeared into the dancing crowd, leaving me with White Shirt Guy.

After a while of dancing and as much conversation as one can manage on the floor of a dance club, White Shirt Guy took my hand and led me away to the bar, where he had, apparently, intended to buy me a drink, but instead, he gently but firmly pushed me against the corner behind the jukebox, where he started to kiss me.

The music grew louder. Our embrace became more heated. The sensation of his hands running urgently over my body had become somewhat more sensational, and my head was spinning. At some point, I don't remember when, he had told me his name.

Dan.

Dan took my hand and led me out of the club. It was about 5am, and I called Mike to leave a message on his phone, telling him that I couldn't find him and that I was going home. We walked to his car, hand-in-hand. I don't remember much of what was talked about. He drove to the service station, purchased necessities, then drove to a park where he parked the car, and we had sex.

It was all very wham-bam-thankyou-mam. After, he casually put his clothes on; helped me into mine; dropped me home and wrote my phone number on the back of a receipt; kissed me on the head, promising to call me, and drove away.

I never saw, or heard from him again.

"Fuck we did some crazy shit in the past!" I said to Therese, who was still goggling at the bartender in disbelief.

How weird she must have felt! How would I feel, I wondered, if I ever saw Dan again. Not that it would matter - because I probably wouldn't recognise him anyway.

But still... the thought was bizarre.

I turned my attention back to our happy little group. Jonno was asking us about university (riveting). Brett was showing Anna, who was interrupting any conversation she was within earshot of, cheesy coin tricks. Chris was giving me freaky looks, and Fox was trying not to stare at the obvious cleavage that became visible when Natasha leaned forward.

We would have to escape them soon.

Setting reminiscences aside, Therese and I positioned ourselves at the bar, preparing ourselves for what the night ahead of us might hold.

previous - next; thanks, diaryland.