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Sometimes
this bunch made me feel like a single mother.

“Will
do.”

“Drive
carefully.”

“Have
fun.”

My
friends yelled to me in unison as I shut the door and started down the stairs.

The
drive to Tomb was quick and uneventful.  I parked my bike along a side
road and made my way to the front entrance.  From the outside, the bar
looked like nothing more than an abandoned warehouse with the word “Tomb”
flashing in bright red neon lettering.  It always had a steady line of patrons
wrapping themselves around the building from the front entrance.  The bass
boomed through the walls and I couldn’t wait to get myself inside to lose
myself in the vibration.

Inside,
Tomb was like any other bar or club in town, only slightly larger because it was,
in fact, a converted warehouse.  The front entrance area was lined with
ATMs and cigarette machines.  Once you got past the front entrance, the
club opened up into a large space with ceilings that must have been forty feet
high.  Lights ran in strips along the ceiling and were accented with
strobe lights, spot lights and industrial fans.  Full length black stone
bars ran along the left and right walls and clear high top tables were situated
beside each bar area.  There were upper level wooden dance floors on each
side and the front contained a large elevated stage for live shows. 
Stairs led from the upper dance areas down to a sunken dance area referred to
as the ‘pit’.”  Speakers were hung on the walls throughout the club, and
two large seven foot speakers sat on the floor in the back of the pit.  My
favorite place to stand on nights when I needed to get lost in the hard,
driving music was directly in front of those speakers.  The added bonus
was that the music was so loud in that area, nobody approached me attempting to
strike up conversation. And even if they did, I could just pretend like I
didn’t hear them.  It’s a win-win.

I
decided to have one drink for the evening and proceeded over to the bar on the
right.  It didn’t really matter which side I went to, considering the
place was one big square, but I saw that Logan, my favorite drink slinger, was
working that side tonight.  I’ve become somewhat of a regular at Tomb due
to its industrial feel and because it’s a good place to go for a decent mixture
of music.  That is unless you are looking for country, rap, techno or
folk.  If you are, then Tomb is definitely not the place for you.

I stood
there for an agonizing five seconds waiting to catch Logan’s attention. 
He looked over at me, placed a couple drinks down in front of a couple sitting
at the bar and headed over in my direction.  The faces on the other
customers he passed up to get to me were always amusing. It made me feel
special and it only emphasized the point that it really is good to know people.

Logan
has been working at Tomb since before I started coming here.   He was
around my height with shaggy blond hair and a surfer’s build.  His arms
were well toned and his shoulders were broad.  His skin always had a
perfect tan which only served to complement his straight white teeth and baby
blue eyes.  When I first started coming here, Logan and I had established
a naturally flirty demeanor with each other.   Within a couple weeks
of my coming here, Logan asked me on a date.  I turned him down as gently
as I could and used the excuse that Alex is my boyfriend.   Having
seen Alex with me on several previous nights, Logan believed it and we’ve been
friends ever since.

And
that
is just one more added bonus of the “Alex Simmons Benefit Package.”  A
fail safe, tried and true excuse that I get to use whenever a propositioning
emergency occurs. 

I’ve
often considered introducing Logan to Annie.  Knowing that Logan doesn’t
fit the ‘criteria’ that Annie has established for any potential suitors, I
haven’t made the attempt.  I would hope that Annie would look past her
requirements and give a new type of guy a chance, but I realize that in all
likelihood, she wouldn’t go for him.  Logan is too sweet and Annie wouldn’t
know what to do with herself with a guy like him.

“Hey
Paige, how’ve you been doing?”  Logan stretched over the bar and gave me
his best bear hug.  He released me and I rested my arms on the bar and
leaned over. “I’ve been doing pretty decent lately.  How about yourself?”

I
watched as Logan eyed my chest and it took him a second to respond.  He
wet his lips and then looked back up into my eyes and smiled.

“Something
interesting, Logan?”

He chuckled
and then threw his arms up in surrender.  “Okay, you caught me.  But
you keep leaning over like that and I won’t be able to concentrate on my job
because I’ll be too busy fighting off the men trying to get a better look at
you.”

I
looked down at my barely there cleavage and looked back up at him in
question.  “I’m sorry, Logan, I think your eyes must be going bad. 
You were looking at me like I was lunch and I’m not exactly ‘Boobs Magee’ over
here.”

Logan
let out an infectious laugh and then reached over to rub me on the head. 
“Ah, my little ignorant siren.  You have no idea how desirable you really
are.  Chest size doesn’t always matter.  It’s how that chest fits on
the frame that matters, and you my friend, are an absolute knock out.”

I
blushed and straightened up my posture.  “Well thanks, Big Guy. You’re not
so bad yourself.”  I winked at him and Logan flashed me his gorgeous
megawatt grin.

“What
can I get for you, Sugar Tits?” Another wink.

“I’ll
take whatever beer you have on special tonight.”

“Sure
thing, Sweet Tomatoes”

“That’s
enough, Logan.”

“Okay.” 
He chuckled and then turned to reach into the cooler to grab me a bottle. 
He popped the top for me, wiped down the condensation and put it on the bar in
front of me.  I grabbed the bottle and took a large swig as I turned to
look in the direction of the stage.

“So,
what time does the band start up?” The music had somehow gotten louder and I
had to shout for Logan to hear me.

“They
should be on in the next couple of minutes or so.  I’d start heading down
to your prime location if I were you.  This band is pretty heavy and the
pit is going to get rough.  In fact, you might want to choose a different
location tonight.  I would hate for you to get accidentally hit when
they’re playing.”

“No
worries.  I can handle myself.  But I will let you get back to your
other customers before they start jumping over the bar to get to the alcohol
themselves.  Take care man!”

Logan
waved and headed back to help the other patrons.  I considered Logan’s
warning for a split second but quickly decided that the pit couldn’t get any
rougher than I’ve already seen it.  The slamming bodies tended to
congregate near the stage area so the back speakers were usually a safe
hideaway.  I walked around the tables and dance floor and took the stairs
down to the pit two at a time.  I walked through the people who had
already started to gather in the area and noticed a couple of people sitting on
top of the speakers.  Shrugging my shoulders, I continued over and leaned
back on the left speaker, paying careful attention to the swinging legs and
feet that surrounded me.  A boot to the head wasn’t my idea of a pleasant
experience so I made a mental note to stand a little away from the speakers
when the band started.

I
looked around at the crowd.  Most of the men wore the standard uniform of
jeans, black fitted t-shirts and black motorcycle boots.  The others wore
jeans, button up black shirts and black motorcycle boots.  Variety was
apparently an unknown concept around these parts.  Looking down at my
outfit of choice, I was pleased to see that I had received the memo about the
uniform dress code.  Proud of myself for finally fitting in, I started to
check out the ladies.

Damn
.  This is the part where I feel
out of place.  Almost all of the women were wearing skin tight outfits in
varying short lengths with most of their breasts showing.  Some of the
skirts were so short that their bottoms peeked out from below the fabric. 
The sky high heels they wore looked horribly uncomfortable and I wondered how
they maintained their balance after a few drinks.  I was suddenly jealous
because it became obvious that they didn’t suffer from the same balance
challenges as me.

When I
was fifteen minutes into people watching, the band finally came out on stage. 
The sound in the club became deafening from the screams of the fans. 
Remembering that my head was currently sharing space with some swinging
appendages, I moved far enough in front of the speakers so as to avoid any
‘shoe meeting face’ mishaps. 

“Hey
everybody, how are you all doing tonight?!” The lead singer screamed into the
microphone.

I
wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the club actually got louder. 
People started pouring down into the pit and I became a little annoyed with the
close proximity of the people around me.  One massive fellow decided to
bypass the stairs all together and jumped over the upper level railing down to
the pit.  Had he been off a couple of feet in his aim, I would have needed
emergency medical attention. 

The
singer of the band had stepped back from his microphone long enough to allow
the crowd to mellow down their frenzy.  He approached the mic again and
introduced the band.

“For
those of you who love us, we’re glad you are here tonight.  For those of
you who don’t know us, we’re Mind Crime and I hope you like what you’re about
to hear.”  He strummed one loud single note from his guitar and the band
started in.   Mind Crime’s style was exactly what I needed. 
While the drummer did his best to beat to death the kit in front of him, the
bass player carried a low and evocative rhythm.   The singer added an
angry melody to the mix and within seconds was screaming an anthem of
non-conformist rebellion.  I honestly couldn’t understand a damn word he
said, but it didn’t matter once the vibration from the speakers started to wrap
around me.  I bounced my head back in forth in time with the beat and
closed my eyes to become absorbed in the sound.  Opening my eyes, I
noticed that the people in the pit had already started slamming into each other
and the crowd would ebb and flow with the force of the bodies.  More
people started to come into the pit and the aggressive dancing only escalated
with the faster tempo of the song.  I started getting shoved back by a few
stragglers who had been knocked out of the herd and I did my best to avoid
elbows and knees.  As even more people came down, I started getting forced
back into the speakers. 

I
remembered Logan’s warning and decided his advice may have been
warranted.  Inwardly kicking myself for not taking his advice, I started
looking around for a means of escape.  I quickly determined that I was
completely boxed in and started covering my face as best I could.  The
flailing limbs and bodies continued to push into me and I panicked.  I started
overheating from the body heat that was surrounding me and I began to push back
any time someone came flying at me.  My efforts were pointless and the
more I pushed, the more I got run into.   I was getting boxed in even
more and I started to wonder if I was going to make it out of there.

Just
when I was starting to give up hope, an amazing set of arms wrapped around me
and I was suddenly being hoisted up onto the speaker.  I was placed down
and one of those arms stretched out in front of me to keep me from falling
forward.  I took a second to catch my breath and turned to thank whoever
grabbed me.  As soon as I caught sight of his clear blue eyes, my breath
hitched and I was momentarily stunned silent.  I continued my exploration
of the person beside me and discovered a chiseled square jaw, lightly sprinkled
with five o’clock shadow.  His face was framed with messy dark brown
hair.  My gaze slowly wandered downward and found the most drool worthy
broad shoulders a girl could ever ask for.  His t-shirt was pulled tight
over his chest and biceps and his mid-section dipped down into a perfect
‘V’.  His dark blue jeans perfectly accentuated his muscular legs which
hung over the edge of the speaker.  I looked back up into those eyes and
he smiled the most jaw dropping smile, revealing two dimples on either side of
his mouth.

He
leaned over to speak closer to my ear.  “Sorry to manhandle you without
permission, but you looked like you could use some help down there.”  His
voice was a deep enough timbre that it wasn’t difficult for me to hear him over
the music.  I continued staring at his sculpted mouth like an idiot and
then shook my head to free myself from his spell.  I could feel my face
getting hot from looking at him.

“Uh,
yeah, thanks for that.  It normally doesn’t get that bad down there and I
wasn’t expecting to get trapped.”  I smiled at him and then turned my
attention back to the stage.  The band was starting in on their second
song and the crowd calmed for a moment before picking it back up with the
increasing tempo of the song.

He
leaned over to me again.  “No problem, beautiful, I’m always happy to
assist a fair damsel in her time of distress.”  Even though his lips were
brushing over my ear, causing tremors; and his hot breath rolling down my neck
was doing wonderful things for my body, I was suddenly annoyed.

I
shouted over the music at him.  “Please don’t say that.”

“What?”
He looked at me and his confusion at what I had said was clearly written in his
expression.

“Don’t call
me a damsel in distress.  It’s degrading and I don’t appreciate being
classified by use of a demeaning stereotype.”  I turned my attention back
to the stage for a second time and we sat watching the show without
speaking.  I was distinctly aware of his shoulder and thigh pressing into
my side and I was disturbed by how his body heat was affecting me.  His
cologne weaved a trail straight over to my face and I breathed it in deeply
before realizing what I was doing.  After a blissful half hour of music immersion,
the band finished their set and I discovered that I had started leaning into
him.  I also realized how thirsty I was and was thankful that I could go
get something to drink.  The problem with being stuck on a speaker is that
it doesn’t often present the opportunity to refresh your beverage.