Backlight
I am exhausted in the back of the Uber. I had driven an hour in pent up traffic trying to penetrate the borderline of the city. Everyone would be out tonight and I knew that but I still joined them. I did my part in adding to the sea of cars on the 290 expressway. Thinking on it again I realize I clutched the wheel the majority of the drive; gitty motorists had my nerves shot as it seemed one by one they would all nearly rear-end me and end my life.
I am now relieved to be in the ride share- if I should have to die at least it will not be my fault. My closest friend is thrilled enough for the both of us, harmonizing with the melody on the radio as she's buckled in beside me. She has her window all the way down although the Chicago night air still has a tinge too much cold. The weather was nice during the day so she is wearing her summer's best: armless, v-neck, high-waist. A peach colored halter top, leggings and trendy cork heels. I'm dressed in my personal best: a soft blue cotton oxford with the top buttons uncommitted and snug denim shorts. I finally got the watch I wanted, silver and slick. I spent virtually no money during the quarantine.
It takes almost another hour in deeply congested traffic but we do arrive. We're early at 10 o'clock on the dot but there is already a line. We thank the driver and exit on the opposite side of traffic. I hesitate in the street for a moment, I cannot believe we are outside all at once on a weekend night. There is a lump growing in my throat and I decide to follow my friend before I overthink and begin weeping. We stand in line and I feel like we are breaking the law.
"There are way too many people here." my voice sounds like I have been crying already and I clear my throat.
"Stop. You need to stop right now." She looks at me very seriously.
"I know, I'm just so afraid-" I turn to look at the mounting line of bodies behind us, wondering if we're all really putting ourselves into a meat grinder.
"If you were afraid you would not have come, don't do that! You were vaccinated. You paid out of pocket for it. It's done." The sound of her voice makes it clear she has set her gaze on me and will not be moved until I acknowledge the truth of her words and of the situation.
"You are right. You are so right. I need to stop-"
"Today." she encourages. "We are here, enjoy it. This is what you wanted."
I finally look at her and nod in absolution. We only have to wait another 10 minutes which isn't bad at all considering the scale of the turn out. They scan our ID's and search our wristlets. They are not wearing masks. I am so shocked and so relieved. The tall, heavy-set bouncer smiles at me after flashing a light on my card and I beam back. His kindness is astounding. No one had smiled at me in so long.
I cling to my friend's side, so afraid to lose her. We walk in and it is dark and loud with blue lights radiating from the bar. It is just as I remember it except I am terrified. No one has on a mask.
"So what do you want to drink?" She moves us toward the direction of the bar.
"Let's do shots?"
"Tequila?"
"I hate tequila but yes! Will you get me a lime?" we are shouting and I cannot wait for this poison to enter my bloodstream. If I die let it be here. I want to live before I die.
My best friend raises a brow at me and says "OKAY!" in sincere encouragement. She confidently leans over the bar shouting our order over the music: 4 tequila shots, 4 limes.
After we finish them, I ask if we can get more. She reminds me we just spent $20 each on shots. "You're right, fuck that. Can you get me two Miller Lites?"
She orders a cider and a cheap mystery shot (approprioately called "The Vaccine") and we chug, well I chug any way. She vibes, dances and sips. I give her my cash and she puts it away. We're good to go for now.
It's way too hard to get onto the actual dance floor so we post up by the stairs, watching others coming and going. At first I'm too afraid to rest on the wall but I ease up after a moment. I put my hair over one shoulder, step back and observe, my shoulder touching my friend's. There are so many pretty people here. Everyone is dressed to the nines. Men have perfect hair cuts, expensive jeans and spotless shoes on. They're flashier than usual and alert- geeked! Every single man making his way to the stairs looks my friend and I up and down, staring hungrily at our breasts, faces, feet, hands- consuming us raw. I am not offended, I am fascinated by their vulnerability and need. They are so wanting.
I rest my eyes for a second and feel them begin to roll as the different alochols wash my stomach walls. This is the most I've had to drink in a while, especially this fast. I am so happy to be here, even if I am already sick. I open my eyes only to look over at my companion. She is so happy although she is pretending to be unimpressed. It's just another night to her, as far as anyone else is concerned, but I see her frequency and it is so high. There is practically a halo around her head. I idolize her as an angel and I thank God that she brought me here.
I turn my attention back to all the comers and goers. There are some girls who come into the stairwell, looking to go up next. One has on a cat ear headband and a pink, leather bolero jacket. She has glitter on her face. Her friends are dressed just as ornately, whites and yellows, neons, hoop earrings. They look young and happy. I feel happy for them.
"They look so cute." I gush.
"They do! I have a jacket just like that."
I grin because that's such a her thing to have. I hope she gets to wear it soon.
I am now relieved to be in the ride share- if I should have to die at least it will not be my fault. My closest friend is thrilled enough for the both of us, harmonizing with the melody on the radio as she's buckled in beside me. She has her window all the way down although the Chicago night air still has a tinge too much cold. The weather was nice during the day so she is wearing her summer's best: armless, v-neck, high-waist. A peach colored halter top, leggings and trendy cork heels. I'm dressed in my personal best: a soft blue cotton oxford with the top buttons uncommitted and snug denim shorts. I finally got the watch I wanted, silver and slick. I spent virtually no money during the quarantine.
It takes almost another hour in deeply congested traffic but we do arrive. We're early at 10 o'clock on the dot but there is already a line. We thank the driver and exit on the opposite side of traffic. I hesitate in the street for a moment, I cannot believe we are outside all at once on a weekend night. There is a lump growing in my throat and I decide to follow my friend before I overthink and begin weeping. We stand in line and I feel like we are breaking the law.
"There are way too many people here." my voice sounds like I have been crying already and I clear my throat.
"Stop. You need to stop right now." She looks at me very seriously.
"I know, I'm just so afraid-" I turn to look at the mounting line of bodies behind us, wondering if we're all really putting ourselves into a meat grinder.
"If you were afraid you would not have come, don't do that! You were vaccinated. You paid out of pocket for it. It's done." The sound of her voice makes it clear she has set her gaze on me and will not be moved until I acknowledge the truth of her words and of the situation.
"You are right. You are so right. I need to stop-"
"Today." she encourages. "We are here, enjoy it. This is what you wanted."
I finally look at her and nod in absolution. We only have to wait another 10 minutes which isn't bad at all considering the scale of the turn out. They scan our ID's and search our wristlets. They are not wearing masks. I am so shocked and so relieved. The tall, heavy-set bouncer smiles at me after flashing a light on my card and I beam back. His kindness is astounding. No one had smiled at me in so long.
I cling to my friend's side, so afraid to lose her. We walk in and it is dark and loud with blue lights radiating from the bar. It is just as I remember it except I am terrified. No one has on a mask.
"So what do you want to drink?" She moves us toward the direction of the bar.
"Let's do shots?"
"Tequila?"
"I hate tequila but yes! Will you get me a lime?" we are shouting and I cannot wait for this poison to enter my bloodstream. If I die let it be here. I want to live before I die.
My best friend raises a brow at me and says "OKAY!" in sincere encouragement. She confidently leans over the bar shouting our order over the music: 4 tequila shots, 4 limes.
After we finish them, I ask if we can get more. She reminds me we just spent $20 each on shots. "You're right, fuck that. Can you get me two Miller Lites?"
She orders a cider and a cheap mystery shot (approprioately called "The Vaccine") and we chug, well I chug any way. She vibes, dances and sips. I give her my cash and she puts it away. We're good to go for now.
It's way too hard to get onto the actual dance floor so we post up by the stairs, watching others coming and going. At first I'm too afraid to rest on the wall but I ease up after a moment. I put my hair over one shoulder, step back and observe, my shoulder touching my friend's. There are so many pretty people here. Everyone is dressed to the nines. Men have perfect hair cuts, expensive jeans and spotless shoes on. They're flashier than usual and alert- geeked! Every single man making his way to the stairs looks my friend and I up and down, staring hungrily at our breasts, faces, feet, hands- consuming us raw. I am not offended, I am fascinated by their vulnerability and need. They are so wanting.
I rest my eyes for a second and feel them begin to roll as the different alochols wash my stomach walls. This is the most I've had to drink in a while, especially this fast. I am so happy to be here, even if I am already sick. I open my eyes only to look over at my companion. She is so happy although she is pretending to be unimpressed. It's just another night to her, as far as anyone else is concerned, but I see her frequency and it is so high. There is practically a halo around her head. I idolize her as an angel and I thank God that she brought me here.
I turn my attention back to all the comers and goers. There are some girls who come into the stairwell, looking to go up next. One has on a cat ear headband and a pink, leather bolero jacket. She has glitter on her face. Her friends are dressed just as ornately, whites and yellows, neons, hoop earrings. They look young and happy. I feel happy for them.
"They look so cute." I gush.
"They do! I have a jacket just like that."
I grin because that's such a her thing to have. I hope she gets to wear it soon.