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One Thursday

Liam Spencer

    It was a time of excitement. After being with my girlfriend for eighteen months of great times, her house finally sold. She and her hubby would soon be able to finally divorce. We were in love, and things were amazing between us. We found an amazing apartment in the happening Queen Anne Area of Seattle, and moved in together. It was the beginning of a truly amazing chapter in our relationship.
    There was one area that held our relationship back at that time. Her sister had recently moved into the area. The three of us were to live together. Her sister was needy. She had left a long term relationship in Salt Lake, and both the guy and memories haunted her daily. She needed Samantha.
    I tried to stay out of the way as best I could, especially when her sister’s needs were at their highest. Numerous times I left the apartment to wander the streets until I felt it safe to return. To be honest, it was tedious. It happened so often. Nearly daily.
    Nonetheless, there were great times, with laughter and love. Not to mention the sex. Every night, not just a few times a week. Shared meals and mornings, laughter, conversations, morning coffee, plans.... It was happiness for the most part.

    One Thursday evening, her sister came home upset. Her ex had pulled yet more shit. On and on. Endless. She needed her older sister. I left so they could talk. Samantha gave me the look that said, “thank you.”
    I walked and walked. I was tired and bored. I decided to go in to a bar down the street. It was a dive bar with neighborhood feel. I heard the pool table as I went in. it might be a good way to kill a few hours, I thought.

    The place was filling up. I got into a game of pool for the first time in years, and managed to win. Then I won again. Being an outsider, no one was left to play. They all did their social stuff, and tuned out.
    In walked four women. All were attractive, and in their higher twenties. They were buzzed on this and that. Immediately, they seized on the pool table and me. A tall brunette grabbed my pool stick and seductively blew the chalk off it.
    She introduced herself. Tanya. Her eyes smiled devilishly. She stood all too close. I kept looking for Samantha.
    Tanya stood closer, then closer still. She looked away, toward her girlfriend, who smiled more broadly. Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind, and violently pulled toward the pool table. Tanya shoved hard. I landed with my back on top of the pool table, with Tanya climbing on top, as though she was riding me.
    She leaned in, her eyes aglow, in power.
    “We’re taking you home tonight...”

    She kissed me, her tongue sliding into my mouth.

    “If my girlfriend sees this, she’ll kill us all.”

    “Well bring her too then.”

    The lesbian bartender/owner rescued me, shoeing the girls off. They went off to get even higher.

    A short dullard looking guy stood there in front of me. He was with three other people. All looked dullard. He spoke in harsh terms with a deep southern accent.
    “YOU on THIS table?! What the hell?”
    “Yeah, rack’em up.” What the hell indeed.
    I won the first game, as he scratched. Rather than pleasant, he scowled.
    “Who’s next?!”
    “I don’t know.”
    “I AM!”
    I looked around. There was no one.
    “Rack’em.”

    I lost bad, and didn’t care. He beamed, and challenged all. I put quarters up. What the hell.
    We went out for a smoke. He bragged and talked, then kissed his girlfriend violently. The world was his.

    I finished and went inside. The girls from earlier had taken the table. They laughed silliness as they shot the wrong balls. Giggles. Hearty. Great times. The same brunette came over and grabbed my privates, then kissed me, laughing and flirting, then laughing again. My mind wondered....No. No way I would give up Samantha.... Still, nice to be wanted.
    In walked Alabama. His eyes flashed hate. It was HIS table. He ran over, arguing violently. The girls laughed on and on. As one shot, he grabbed the cue ball, and yelled, “IT’S MY TABLE!” He slammed the cue ball onto the table, hard as possible.
    “HEY!” One of the owners. She was a bull dike. Her muscles had muscles. One of the nicest people I have ever met.
    “WHAT?! IT”S MY FUCKING TABLE! THESE BITCHES....”
    “ENOUGH!”

    The guy picked up the cue ball again. His blood running hot. He threw it as hard as he could. The ball hit me right in the chest.
    “YOU FUCK!”
    I began to charge at him.

    An arm smacked against me so hard it stopped me dead in my tracks. It was one of the owners. She stood there, muscles and all, face purple with rage, ready to beat ass, as though she’d been preparing for this for years.
    “He’s mine!” She gritted through her teeth.
    “Yes, he is.” I answered, stopped in my tracks.

    “COME ON, BITCH!” The dumb shit spewed.

    He hit her first. There was no impact.
    I’m not sure if it was her right hook or her second swing that really knocked him out. Nor am I sure of who all kicked his friend and girlfriend’s asses. All I know is that I, for once, was not in trouble. The cops came and I hid inside sipping beer.

    The girls were gone for the time. I decided to try to sneak home, hoping Faye wasn’t still needing Samantha.

    The place was dark. I slowly crept in, making my way down the hallway toward our room, careful not to disturb Faye.
    I used my cell phone to light my way into bed. Samantha pulled my arm under her and nestled against me. Nothing has ever felt so good.
    “Where have you been?’ she tenderly asked.
    “Seeing what I’ve missed, and realizing that I don’t miss it.”
    I held her tighter. We both let out satisfaction. Life was merely beginning...

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