"You’re late”
"Sorry, car trouble”
"That’s the third time this week” she pouted
The ‘music’ started again the amplified base vibrating on my eardrums.
"Let’s get a drink first” I screamed in her ear.
She followed me sulkily to the bar, where the noise was reduced by a few decibels allowing the conversation to be just manageable.
Sharon certainly rests easy on the eye. A doll-faced beauty dressed to show off a figure that adolescent males compose their fantasies around, not that I had any personal knowledge of her sensual delights you understand. After a month of dating her, my fingers had never even found her bra strap; Sharon protected her honour with a fierce tenacity that the hero’s of the Alamo would have been proud of.
"Who’s that?”
I turned on the bar stool.
"Who?”
"That guy dancing with the girl in the yellow top”
I blinked through the strobe light.
"Oh that’s Terry”
"Ooo he’s quite a dish, do you know him?”
I thought that everyone knew Terry, every disco has a Terry, a muscle-bound fitness freak, with the personality of a walking paper clip. He never looks at the girl he is dancing with, his tiny brain is concentrating hard on his mirror practised Presley sneer and the thrusting bulge in his skin tight jeans.
"Would you like to meet him?” I asked.
"Don’t mind”
Later at the bar, I found Penny, sat down beside her and ordered a beer.
"Hi, what’s the matter, you look a bit sad?” she asked,
"Yes, well I've just been dumped”
"Oh I'm so sorry”
"Well, there are sometimes you have to step aside for a better man”
"Who?”
"Terry”
Terry? Oh! You’re joking”
"No, they’re just made for each other, though it wasn't easy; Sharon is my boss’s daughter so I couldn't unload her myself could I?”
I saw the understanding dawning in her eyes.
After our laughter had subsided I took her hand
"Come on, let’s get out of here and go somewhere for a decent drink”.