Done in at the Club

Aaron was trying to sneak behind Nancy. She was throwing her ass back with wild abandon, and just a moment of friction would set him off, he knew. It'd be enough for tonight at least. But then he ran into a 6'3 roadblock. A big, Black roadblock, glowering down at him.

"Scram whitey," he growled, and Aaron clambered away from the dance floor. Twenty minutes later, Nancy approached him, her face red.

"Hey sweetie," she said, a title that connoted no kind of relationship, just a mere fondness. "Delroy and D-Train want to show me something out back. I'll be back in like twenty. Can you like ... hold my purse?"

Aaron swallowed, but nodded wordlessly. This was the worst, he thought glumly, as he ordered another drink.