To the bar with Sara

The front door admits Sara. Or someone who looks like Sara, at least. The longer you look at her, the more you doubt that she is Sara.

Sara is an attractive girl (not that you’re into girls) but this woman has a lot more “oomph” in her ass and breasts, and that ineffable quality in her facial features that makes Sara pretty is dialed up to 11. The girl isn’t wearing hardly any makeup, yet her skin is flawless. She probably gets all the guys.

“Sara?” you ask.

“Who else would it be?” she says, closing the door behind her.

You have the sensation that you’re in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You try to ignore the weirdness so that you don’t lose your mind.

“Ready?” you ask.

“Let’s go.”

She and you hop in your car.

Your talk somehow winds around to pussteases, a frequent topic of conversation with you which is fresh in your mind because of what just happened with Josh. You hope that Sara doesn’t make the connection.

“That one time we went out there was that guy wearing the v-neck and shorts and so on,” you say. “I may have been the one to make the first move, but he was flirting with my eyes by showing so much skin. It wouldn’t have bothered me that he turned me down if he hadn’t been so goddamn stuck-up about it. Even if he hadn’t turned me down, you know what men are like. They don’t want sex without a relationship, fine. But then they start wanting less and less sex.”

Sara looks uncomfortable. In the hundred or so pusstease rants she’s heard before from you, she usually just listened and nodded until you migrated onto a less tired topic.

“What is it?” you say.

“I wouldn’t have a problem with what you’re saying if your attitude weren’t the dominant one and if that dominant attitude weren’t so harmful.”

“Disliking stuck-up men is the dominant attitude?”

“I meant the attitude that regards men as objects. It’s so easy for men to be taken advantage of, that women only see men as things to be used. Even men internalize it, like my brother . . .”

She trails of. You’ve met her younger brother before. Nice kid. Suddenly it seems to be sore topic for her for some reason you can’t fathom.

That’s not the only thing she said that you can’t parse. Easy for men to be taken advantage of? Well, sure, to an extent. Men having **** slipped into their drinks was a disturbingly frequent phenomenon, and everyone knew that women in positions of power sometimes leveraged sexual favors from male subordinates. (If Sara was going to bring up women dominating business and politics, as well as being better paid on average, you were going to point out that that was only because men were the primary caregivers for children and so couldn’t possibly rise up within the business world with that time-suck.) But men were stronger than women, so at least they couldn’t be taken advantage of through brute ****.

At the street corner near the intersection you’re waiting at, there’s a handsome panhandler, an adjective you’d never thought you’d use with that noun. He’s tall, under his shabby jacket he looks like he might be swole, and his strong jaw is complemented by being unshaven. He sees you looking at him and approaches the open window.

“Got any change I can use for bus fair?” he asks.

By bus fair, he probably means booze. You wish they would just be honest.

“Sure, if you kiss me,” you say, not expecting him to do it.

To your surprise, he leans into the car window and gives you a smack on the lips. You’re surprised, but still manage to kiss back for the brief moment that it lasts.

“Uh, here,” you say. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

He takes the quarter, nickel, and two pennies you found in your console without complaining. You’re about to ask Sara to see if she can find more in the glovebox, but you can’t stay here because the cars behind you are waiting for you to go through the intersection.

“I can’t believe he did that,” you say.

“Well, of course, he did that. If he has to do sexual acts without payment, he might as well do them when payment is being offered.”

You arrive at the bar you and Sara go to pick up dudes. It’s dark, but not seedy.

After you and Sara swallow some liquid courage, the two of you approach two guys sitting at the bar. You go for the one who’s cute in a nerdy kind of way: slightly tousled hair, glasses, and perfect teeth when he smiles. Through the course of conversation, you learn that he’s into D&D, so your initial impression was spot on.

The four of you grab a booth in the back.