Two Stepping at Grizzly Rose

Rachel tells her story:

I was 22 and it was my first autumn when I wasn’t in school. The summer after graduating college just felt like summer, but this autumn was my first glimpse of the real world. I applied to dozen of jobs during the day, and worked as a waitress in the evening. All while living at home with my parents. I was miserable.

So when a guy I sort of knew from high school messaged me, I messaged back. I didn’t know Ross much, but we had good banter in our texts exchanges. Then he invited me out to spend the weekend with him in Denver, so I jumped at the chance. I just hoped he didn’t think I’d be having sex with him. We had just started talking. I was looking at this trip as our first date together.

He picked me up at the airport. He took me back to his place. I changed out of my comfy travel clothes and into something more stylish and appropriate for our first date. He took me to a pretty nice restaurant.

We had really fun conversation during dinner. I thought the date was going really well. Then he said he had a surprise for me: we were gonna to meet his friend at a country concert.

I was pissed, but I couldn’t show it. I wanted to seem like I could go with the flow. But seriously, I was annoyed.

#1. You invited your friend with you on a first date with a girl you’ve been talking to long distance!?

#2. I was in no way dressed for a country concert.

#3. I’ve never heard of the band, and I couldn’t tell you their name right now.

But I went along.

I didn’t say anything when the gravel crunched under the tires when we pulled into the parking lot outside a big saloon shining a neon rose. I didn’t react negatively when Ross got a call from work that he just had to take.

I just smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get us some drinks inside.”

I went inside alone, and weaved my way through cowboy boots and jeans, past the mechanical bull, past the stage, past the corralled dance floor to a bar in the back. I ordered a couple bottles of beer and two shots of Jim Beam (I had remembered Ross said he liked whiskey). I carried my drinks over to a standing table and people watched, waiting for my date to join me.

The more I looked around the more self conscious I got. Every single person was in boots. I was in open toed heels.

I took a big gulp of my beer.

The men were all dressed exactly the same: boots, jeans, western button down and cowboy hat. The women at least had some variety. A lot of the seasoned Colorado women wore jeans, aware that they would have to walk out into the cold autumn air at the end of the night. Other more adventurous girls showed off their legs in cutoff shorts or skirts. A few wore dresses that twirled around them when they spun on the dance floor. I wore tan Ralph Lauren stretchy twill pants. I chose them because I thought their tightness nicely showed off my legs. Now I felt like they made me look uptight.

Gulp.

Every girl within five years of my age was showing their midriff. I wore a tucked in vertical stripped button down shirt that was only unbuttoned to show the nape of my neck. And to top it all off, I was wearing a navy blazer! I couldn’t feel more out of place.

Gulp. Gulp.

Before I knew it, my beer was empty and Ross still hadn’t walked into the bar. I was in a brand new city, a brand new state, and I was all alone. I was not having fun. I was getting anxious.

I took my shot of Jim Bean. Oh god it burned. I had to use Ross’s beer to chase it, and cool my throat. I coughed into my wrist, and looked up.

There was a man leaned up against the wall staring at me. He had a beer in one hand, and the other in the pocket of his jeans. He was dressed like most of the other men in the bar, except he had the cuffs of his shirt sleeves rolled up, showing off his big and deliciously muscled forearms. His boots weren’t cowboy, and he didn’t wear a hat. His dirty blonde hair was gelled into a messy look. His blue eyes were looking me up and down. When he noticed that I was looking at him, they quickly glanced away.

That made me even more self conscious. Did I really stand out that much!? I took Ross’s shot, then started fully drinking his beer. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t done with his phone call yet. The opening act was starting.

This first date had become a disaster.

I looked up from peeling the label on my second beer to see the blonde guy standing across the table from me. I was a little taller than him in heels. He was clean shaven, and looked around my age. Definitely not a creepy old guy, trying to pick up a 22 year old. He smiled, trying to let me know he was friendly.

“Hi. I seen you’ve been standing here for a while.”

“I’m waiting for someone.” I did not want to be hit on while waiting for Ross. This night was getting worse.

“It might make the time pass by faster out on the dance floor.”

“I don’t know that dance.”

“I don’t either. It’s called a two-step. I watched a video on YouTube earlier. We can learn together.”

He held out his hand. And I debated. I had drank all the ****. The longer I stood by myself the more embarrassing it would be. This guy seemed nice and harmless. Screw it. I’ll dance with this strange guy, maybe it will make Ross jealous and he’ll learned that he really messed this night up.

I took his hand and he led me to the back of the dance floor, where it wasn’t so crowded. From his memory of the video, and looking around at other couples, he taught me how to two-step.

Quick quick, slow slow. Quick quick, slow slow.

His boots shuffling forward, my heels clicking backwards in a circle around the dance floor.

We were awful. I had to observe other dancers to see where I placed my hands on him. In addition to his nice forearms, I discovered he had really nice shoulders, biceps and triceps as well. He kept his hands very gentlemanly and never came close to any inappropriate. We laughed every time we messed up, and then started again. Maybe it was the effect of the four drinks, but I was starting to have a good time. His smile was infectious.

The opening act was over. We went back to the table where we first talked. I had almost forgotten that Ross hadn’t come into the bar yet. The only reminder was the two empty beer bottles and two empty shot glasses.

The guy asked me where I was from.

“A small town in Indiana. You probably have never heard of it.”

He laughed, “Oh that’s awesome. All my roommates are from Indiana.”

“That’s crazy!” I said, placing my hand down on his forearm. “I’ll be honest. I was feeling pretty out of place in here. I’m glad I met someone else from the Midwest.”

He definitely noticed my hand on his arm. “I felt bad, seeing you standing alone, looking at the entrance. Nobody should ever be stood up. Especially a gorgeous girl like you.”

I smiled inside at the compliment, but didn’t try to look like it affected me, especially since it reminded me of Ross and his work call. Did he leave me here? Did he have to go back into the office, and not tell me?

To take my mind off these questions I asked, “Why are you here by yourself?”

“I was stood up by my friend. He texted that he’d been here in ten minutes, but that was over an hour ago, and he hasn’t responded to one of my texts yet. I hope he didn’t get into a car accident,” he said. His face actually looked a little worried.

I rubbed his arm, “I’m sure he’s okay. I’ll take his place and be your friend for the night.”

He smiled, looking into my eyes, “Lucky me.”

That look still sends shivers down my spine. He looked at me like I was the prettiest woman in the world, and he was hopelessly in love with me. That he was blessed just to be in my presence, and would do anything to please me. Or pleasure me.

Like he was in love with me, and **** to do the naughtiest things to my body. That look lit a fire in my lady oven.

Then an arm wrapped around my shoulder. Ross’s voice said, “Great! You guys found each other. I felt like such an asshole for leaving you alone. I’ll make it up to you. The rest of the drinks tonight are on me.”

The blonde guy’s eyebrows knitted, “This is the girl who flew in from Indy today.”

I finally realized I had never introduced myself and he had never introduced himself. We had just danced, drank and laughed together as strangers.

I held out my hand, “Sorry. I never introduced myself. I’m Rachel. I’m guessing you’re Chandler?”

He shook my hand, “Yeah. Wow. I should’ve guessed that a pretty girl from Indiana would be Ross’s date.”

He could not hide his disappointment. He really thought he had made a connection with this random beautiful girl. I felt a little sorry for him. When Ross was at the bar ordering drinks, I placed my hand on Chandler’s forearm again, “Hey don’t look so down. We’re still friends, and we can still dance together. Plus I make a great wingman.”