To the drunk young man who repeatedly asked me to dance on the rotating
disco floor and who later incoherently slurred to me in the men’s room
later that evening, I hope that you made it home alive. I’m sorry if the black
and white furry pimp hat gave you the wrong impression of me. In case you
thought the world didn’t care, one all male couple later asked me, “are you
taking that boy home? He is drunk!”
To the “professional girl” and older “gentleman caller” who was “courting”
her on the dance floor, I can only hope that your financial transaction was
concluded and profitable for both of you.
Finally, to the eighteen-year-old attractive blond who was shooting hoops
closing in the big-hair band bar and who inserted a breath mint into my mouth
the end of the evening, you clearly didn’t understand what the pimp hat was
trying to tell you about me and perhaps that was my fault. I should have
tried to explain it to you instead of slurring incoherently. My bad.