Blast From The Past 1

by Faith Winslow

  But, anyway, I digress… There we were, in a bar named after a legendary author. The drinks were definitely more expensive, but they were also more fun and palate-pleasing. They served these fruity shots in test tubes and had trays of Jell-O shots for sale, and the four of us each took turns buying rounds for each other.

  In no time, we all were pretty drunk, especially me, as I wasn’t that much of a drinker. So, when the bartender came over to us and threw down another round of fruity shots, we all just took them.

  “Whose turn is it?” one of the girls asked, looking to the rest of us to see who was going to pull out her wallet. Her name was Beth Carmichael, and she was wearing cat-eye glasses.

  “I got the last round,” Melanie Elroy said, shaking her blonde ponytail.

  “And I got the one before that,” Julie added.

  “Well, who ordered them?” Beth asked.

  We all looked at each other, dumbfounded.

  “I did,” a voice said from behind us. “They’re on me.”

  The man standing behind us was a cliché—tall, dark, and handsome. He had a mop of curly chestnut hair that was just long enough to look unkempt but short enough to be tidy. His eyes were steely gray, and he had a bit of stubble on his face. He definitely looked a little older than the rest of us, but not so much older that he shouldn’t have been in a college bar—and, he definitely was good-looking… err, make that “great-looking.”

  “Thanks,” Beth said, and Melanie echoed.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Julie said, taking the fellow in. “But what’s your game plan? You buy four girls a shot at the bar… What? Are you looking to bang one of us or all of us? Or are you just playing the odds here?”

  The man chuckled and leaned in closer to us. “It’s called an icebreaker,” he said, eyeing each of us in turn. “You ladies looked like you were having a fun time, and I’m here all alone tonight. I figured I’d try to work my way into your little party.”

  “Or work your way into our pants,” Julie shot back. Beth and Melanie just sat there, giggling like the school girls that they were. I, however, wasn’t laughing. I stared at my empty test tube shot glass and thought about ordering another.

  “It’s not like that,” the stranger continued. “Can’t a guy just be looking for conversation and company? What makes you think I’m trying to get any of you in the sack?”

  “Come on!” Julie exclaimed. She said it so loudly that it attracted attention from other bar patrons. “You don’t just go and drop $20 on shots for random girls at the bar without expecting something.” She turned back around to face the bar and motioned to the bartender for another round. “This one’s on me,” she said, looking to the rest of us, “to wash the bad taste of his shots out of our mouths.”

  The tall, dark, and handsome man just stared at Julie, obviously offended, maybe even hurt, by how she was treating him. The rest of us just went along with the flow, as she was obviously our alpha female.

  “Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you then,” the man said. “And I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” I peeked up from staring at my shot glass to look at him just in time to catch his smile before he turned and walked away.

  “Meee-oww,” Beth said, taking the new drink that the bartender brought over. “You sure let that guy have it.”

  “I know,” Julie answered. “But, I’m tired of guys like him… They come to the bar and try to get the young college girls all fucked up so that they can take them home and fuck them. Then what happens the next morning? Either they sneak out before you wake up, or they leave you with some fake phone number. Been there, done that too many times, and I’m not gonna let myself or my friends fall victim to a predator like that… I mean, really, he bought all of us a shot—what was he thinking?”

  I wanted to say something—or ask something—but was too intimidated to do so. I wasn’t used to the bar scene, especially as compared to someone like Julie, and, even though I thought the guy seemed nice enough, I figured she knew more about this kind of stuff than I did.

  We went on to enjoy a few more drinks, and a few more random discussions with strangers, for another hour or so before we decided to hit another bar, just for the sake of variety. Ironically enough, when we left, it was just me, Beth, and Melanie. Julie had decided to leave on her own, with a guy that she’d taken to. “It’s okay if I’m the player,” she said with a wink before walking off with him.

  The next bar was even more crowded than the last, and the three of us were a little lost in the mix without our alpha female. Nonetheless, we managed to get some more booze in us, and managed to talk to a variety of guys. I was drunker than I’d ever been in my whole life, and I was having a great time. My inhibitions were lowered, and I was actually talking freely, even flirting, with the people around me.

  We’d landed a table in the back of the bar, but had to go to the counter to order our drinks. It really was a madhouse in there, and there were no waitresses to tend to the masses. But that was fine by me because, when it was my turn to walk to the counter, it gave me the chance to be the me I usually wasn’t and enjoy everything my rare night out had to offer. Little did I know, however, that, when I went to the counter for the second time, I’d never make it back to the table with my friends, and I’d wake up the next morning with much more than a hangover.

  ~ Chapter 7 ~

  “Hey, girl!” a man’s voice shouted, catching me off guard again. For the second time on my first day, I had to have someone call to me to call me out of my thoughts. I looked up and saw Edgar standing at my door.

  “Hey, Edgar,” I replied with a smile.

  “You settling in okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “Just a little distracted.”

  “You’re not still hung up on that shit with Stephanie this morning, are you?” he inquired, with concern.

  “No, no, not at all,” I told him. I had actually moved past that and had bigger fish to fry at the moment. “I just saw someone I knew earlier—a blast from the past—and it threw me for a loop.”

  “Ooooh,” Edgar sand back at me. “Now, that sounds interesting! I’m here to explain your first assignment, but we can take a little time for some girl talk if you want. I love me some gossip!”

  Edgar was so animated and interesting, I couldn’t help but feel comfortable around him, and I wanted to tell him everything. But, still, I understood workplace dynamics and knew that spilling the beans could mean getting myself a reputation. I could just imagine Edgar standing at the watercooler—if rEcore even had a watercooler—telling our secretaries about how I’d hooked up with one of our coworkers years earlier.

  “It’s nothing major, Edgar,” I said, lying. “I just saw a guy I recognized from my party days back in college.” Maybe saying something like “party days” was the even bigger lie—I could have counted those “party days” on my fingers and still had plenty of digits leftover.

  “A guy?” Edgar asked, widening his eyes. “Do you mean a guy, or a guy?” He emphasized the word the third time he said it, and twerked his eyebrows suggestively.

  “Oh, Edgar, stop it,” I laughed. He was too amusing to resist. “I’m not the kind of girl to kiss and tell… So, what’s this about my assignment? Let’s get to business.”

  “Spoil sport,” Edgar said, shaking his head. He took a seat in my office, in the chair Becky had occupied earlier, and continued. “So, since we aren’t gonna have girl talk, I guess I’ll tell you about this new app we’re developing… Doesn’t sound nearly as fun to me, but what choice do I have?”

  I grinned at Edgar as he went on to explain that rEcore had just landed a huge contract with a major music production company, and, together, they were about to revolutionize the way people downloaded and listened to music.

  “Download time will be ridiculously fast and will use almost no additional bandwidth than live play,” he described, “and the storage and access capabilities will be more impressive than any cloud that’s out there.r />
  “Subscribers will pretty much have instant, mobile access to any song they want, from any device that runs our app… But that’s not all. The app is also a smart app, so it learns people’s habits and makes recommendations based on that.

  “Imagine that you go to the gym on Monday, and you listen to some hip hop while you’re exercising. The next time you go to the gym, your GPS will check you in, and our app will pull up the same playlist you listened to last time, along with a playlist of other recommended artists… Same thing with times as with places. Imagine you like to listen to zone out to something like Led Zeppelin after a hard day of work. Your app will learn that, and, come 6 p.m. or so, it’ll have Zep ready to go for you, as well as, I don’t know, some Pink Floyd or Jimmy Hendrix.

  “There are some other really cool features too, such as mood settings, but we don’t need to talk about those right now. Right now, you just need to understand the basics, and understand that this app is totally cutting edge, and totally hush-hush. Once it’s out there running, people will never have to make their own playlists again, and even the folks at iTunes will be jealous.”

  “Sounds very interesting,” I replied, trying to take in everything Edgar had just said. “But what’s my role in all of this? What part will I be working on?”

  “Rumor has it you’re a glitch-getter,” Edgar said, crossing his legs and staring at me intently. “We’re doing beta runs right now and have encountered a few bugs already—so, we need you to go over the coding and make sure everything is in order.”

  I definitely was a glitch-getter, and was glad that my reputation, at least as far as that went, had preceded me.

  “That’s right up my alley,” I told Edgar, feeling confident in my abilities. “I worked out some big bugs at my old firm, and can’t wait to get my eyes on this puppy.”

  “And we can’t wait for you to get your eyes on it either,” Edgar responded. “We really want to get this thing out there before someone else does, so we need you to really put your nose to the grind on this one… I’ll send you some files and background materials as soon as I get back to my office—and, the app should already be on your devices, with a beta tag attached to it. Read what I send you before you run it, then do your magic. If you have any questions…”

  “I know,” I interrupted, “if I have any questions just ask someone, or dial your extension.”

  “Actually, I was gonna say, ‘If you have any questions, don’t bother me with them until after you’ve told me more about this guy-guy you ran into,’ but I guess what you said works too,” Edgar joked.

  “Not gonna happen, Edgar,” I said. “My lips are sealed.”

  “Bet they weren’t with your mystery man,” Edgar fired back as he walked out of my office. He winked at me, then went about his business, leaving me to my thoughts about the mystery man and how my lips definitely weren’t sealed seven years ago when we were together.

  ~ Chapter 8 ~

  I made my way to the counter to order three beers and two shots. Melanie had decided to stop drinking the hard stuff, and Beth and I were going to drink our lemon drops without her. But none of us were going to have anything to drink unless I could flag down the bartender, which wasn’t so easy. Patty the bookworm didn’t know much about the bars, and, even after her spirits had been lifted by the spirits, she didn’t know how to get the bartender’s attention when there were more than a dozen other people vying for it.

  “Excuse me,” I tried to shout over the other voices around me. But it was pointless. So I was leaning over the bar, and so was waving at the bartender. I obviously needed to do something aggressive, but couldn’t figure out what.

  “I’d offer to help you,” a vaguely familiar voice said from a foot away, “but I don’t want your friend attacking me again.”

  I looked over and saw the tall, dark, and handsome stranger—my mystery man—and he was smiling.

  “Sorry about all of that,” I said. “That’s just how Julie is. She’s pretty outspoken.”

  “But does she speak for you?” the man asked.

  “What do you mean?” I asked in response, a little confused by his question.

  “You said she’s outspoken,” he clarified. “But does she speak for you? When she gave me the cold shoulder, was that your way of telling me to get lost too?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, looking into his piercing gray eyes. “I probably wouldn’t have been so quick to turn my back on you.”

  “Then don’t do it now,” the stranger said. “Let’s talk and get to know each other a bit, then you can get rid of me if you want to.” He dangled a $20 bill in the air and motioned to the bartender with it—finally, something got her attention.

  “I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he said, turning to me again. “This time I’ll ask… Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Sure,” I said, smiling at the man. “My name’s Patty, and I’ll have a draft beer.”

  “Cute name for a cute girl,” he answered. “I’m Joe.”

  “Two tall drafts,” Joe said to the bartender.

  “Coming right up, handsome,” she replied, eyeing me up like I was her competition.

  One round led to another, and Joe and I were getting along very well, though our conversation remained largely superficial. I’d almost forgotten about my friends completely, and had lost almost all sense of my surroundings, as well as of right and wrong. When Joe leaned in to place his empty glass on the counter, I swore he was leaning in to kiss me, and I leaned forward to kiss him back. His lips were soft and tender, though they tasted like beer, and the stubble on his face tickled my chin.

  “That was a surprise,” Joe said when we finally separated our mouths.

  “I guess I’m full of surprises tonight,” I said, amazed at my own ability to save face in the situation. I’d figured out that he wasn’t trying to kiss me, and a realization like that was the type of thing that would have sent sober bookworm Patty running back to her dorm room in tears. But, Patty-with-a-buzz-on was getting a better sense of her drunken footing.

  “What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?” Joe asked, wrapping his arm around me and trailing his fingers along the small of my back.

  “I can’t show you here,” I whispered, bringing my body closer to his and placing a hand playfully on his shoulder.

  “Well, I only live a couple blocks away from here,” Joe said. “We can go back there and you can show me.” I could feel the excitement growing in his pants as he pushed up against me.

  “All right,” I replied, almost instantly, smiling a crooked smile at him.

  ‘Then let’s go, shall we?” Joe asking, taking my hand from his shoulder and holding it in his.

  Together, we walked to the door, and I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Bars weren’t my thing—and picking guys up at bars definitely wasn’t my thing either. I’d never done anything like that before, and couldn’t believe I’d done it just then. Those moves I made were unlike me, but, nonetheless, they’d been highly effective and brought about a promising prospect.

  Like I said, Joe was great-looking, and I’d only recently split up with Tommy, who was, basically, a timid little geek like me. The chance of being with a guy like Joe seemed very intriguing and inviting, and it gave me the chance to try out something, and someone, different. Granted, my rationale might have been a little weak, but it was fortified by the excessive amount of alcohol I’d consumed.

  Joe and I walked hand-in-hand a short ways through Pittsburgh’s Oakland neighborhood, and we were at his place in a matter of minutes. Our walk had been mostly silent, and the tone remained the same when we first stepped into his apartment.

  “Nice place you’ve got here,” I finally said to break the silence before it grew awkward.

  “Thanks,” Joe responded. “I won’t be here much longer though. I’ve been doing my graduate studies at Carnegie Mellon, and this is my last semester. I’ll be moving to a ‘real place’ next fall.”

 
Joe’s place was nice, as far as college/university digs go, but I could understand what he was saying about moving to a “real place.” His apartment might have been more than adequate for a student, but it would have been a little too shabby for a graduate-degree-toting person going into whatever profession he was going to go into.

  “Want another beer?” Joe asked, walking towards his kitchen.

  “No, I’m good,” I answered. “I think I’ve reached my limit.” Suddenly, despite my feelings only a little bit earlier, bookworm Patty reared her shy head, and I felt intimidated to be alone with this hunk in his apartment. I wasn’t scared of him, per se, but more so of the feelings I was experiencing, and of the promise I’d made him. I didn’t really have any other tricks up my sleeve to show him. For Christ’s sake, I’d only ever been with Tommy, and, given the way Tommy screwed, it was like I was still more or less a virgin. There was nothing I could show Joe that he hadn’t seen before, and I was sure he’d seen much, much better.

  Joe pulled another beer out of the fridge for himself, then offered me my choice of nonalcoholic beverage. I politely declined and started plotting my escape route. It wasn’t too late, and I could still find an excuse to get out of the situation before I made a fool out of myself.

  “Don’t get all shy on me now,” Joe said, taking a seat on his couch, sensing my uneasiness. He patted the soft fabric next to him. “Come sit down. I won’t bite, unless you want me to.”

  Of course, I’d heard that line before, on television and in movies, and it made me laugh, which was Joe’s reason for saying it. A little more comforted, I walked over and took a seat next to him.

  “There’s no pressure,” he said, bringing his hand to my face and brushing my hair back from my brow. “We seriously don’t have to do anything unless you want to. I’m fine with just sitting here and talking.”