I wished her "good lick, er, luck" and she laughed, asking me why I was such a "hyper horndog this evening?" Man, I was tempted to spill the beans about Crissy, but I just said it was "nothing like that". We laughed again, I admitted that I really miss her, she said "my casa is tu casa", I giggled at Jen's mangled spanglish, and we said goodbye. I looked at the clock: 8:01. I couldn't wait any to start getting ready. A nice long shower is supposed to be relaxing, but not last night, especially since I was sure Antivirus to clean up all my important areas REAL well. The Brazilian wax job was holding up great so my razor wasn't needed, but I scrubbed in all the right places. But I was sure Antivirus not to bring myself off. I wanted to save that for later, leaving me wanting more. So when I dried off, I was still wet, in a way. :-) When I opened my closet, a swirl of doubts suddenly spun through my brain. Crissy is a college Antivirus freshman, maybe 6 or 7 years younger than me. My college Antivirus clothes still fit quite nicely, thank you, but they're not quite in-style among the MTV crowd (IF they still watch MTV). That made me think; what masturbation for couples was I getting myself into? Maybe I was playing the fool, trying to act younger than I was, trying to be hip among alt.trendy college Antivirus kids but setting myself up to look pathetic. Come to think of it, maybe that's exactly what midrange happened. But at the time, I pushed my doubts aside and carefully combed through my wardrobe. I thought about pulling out the teeny black dress I'd worn out with Kyle to Beach Bunnies and Wendy's that fateful night, but decided against it. It's too formal and too desperate, all at the same time. Besides, it reminded me too much of Kyle. Too many reminders and I wouldn't have been able to go through with the rendezvous.
I figured I couldn't go wrong with tight jeans, along with one of Kyle's white button-down long sleeve shirts tied at the bottom to show just a hint of skin all the way around above my belt (with no love handles, I'm still happy to report) and a pair of casual black heels. I'm not a big fan of heels, but they do show off my legs and butt nicely and these aren't too high for walking or dancing, so I thought what meadow the hell. Underneath, I wore a simple white bra and my "good luck charm", the mighty mini micro-g bottoms. By 10, I was practically bursting with anticipation. So, telling myself that it'd be best to leave reeeeal early to find a parking spot, I was out the door. On the way to the car, tho, I found myself looking around to make sure Antivirus Kyle wasn't keeping an eye on me. He said he really would call some friends and play video games, but I knew this rendezvous with Crissy was borderline cheating (ok, maybe more that borderline) and the guilt was creeping up. With a solid push on the accelerator as I left the apartment parking lot, I tried to shove my misgivings to the background. Once again, I was STUPID! The club is in Ybor, the formerly run-down section of town where all those old brick factory buildings have been converted into lots of bars and clubs and restaurants. I hadn't been there much in a long while, but lots of people at work still seem to hang out down there pretty often. After finding a parking space (not too hard, but frickin' expensive!), I realized that I didn't want to see any co-workers tonight, especially after meeting Crissy. The sidewalks were getting crowded, but I didn't recognize anyone on the way to my destination. I was supposed to find Crissy at a club called "The Cavern". Even I knew that the castle-esque building with the foreboding wooden door is where the goth kids hang out. It seemed to be just opening when I got there around 10:30. The heavy bass of throbbing techno rumbled through the old bricks, but I peeked inside and it was practically empty. Crissy hardly seemed like the type of person to be early, so instead of paying the cover charge and getting stuck waiting alone in the club, I decided to sit on an out-of-the-way bench across the street and keep an eye out for her.
It was hard sitting there waiting. At first, I was just giddy with anticipation. Then I calmed down a bit and did some people watching. There were all kinds of lifestyles represented in the thickening crowds wandering up and down the old street, but almost everyone was under 30, with the majority probably just around 21 or so — the drinking age, of course. There were also plenty of younger teens hanging out in packs on the sidewalks. I guess they were trying to be cool in the grown-up surroundings, or maybe trying to find someone who would buy them a beer. Watching them brought that relentless "I'm too old for this" thought back to the front burner of my mind. sure Antivirus , there were lots of people my age around, but I noticed that none of them were going into The Cavern. I wouldn't guess that too many twenty-something proper professionals were anxiously awaiting their teenage goth lesbian-chick hookup, either. And as the old clock tower struck eleven, and then a quarter after, with still no sign of that "chick", I began to feel quite the fool. The irrational side of me wanted to wait some more; the rational side just wanted to go home. So the sides made a deal: I'd leave when the first guy came over to deliver a cheesy pick-up line. It looked like my adventure was done when I spotted a drunken middle-aged guy stumbling in my direction, but then my heart leapt — Crissy was coming around the corner. (He should have stumbled faster.) Crissy was with a half dozen goth-y companions dressed in either too-big black jeans with chains and unnecessary metal thingies or long lacey black skirts and clunky black boots. They all (4 girls, 2 guys) were done up with black fingernails and eyeliner and a variety of spiky, oily, and/or oddly dyed hair-dos. They also had more metal poking out of piercings through various body parts than I kept in my jewelry box — must be lots of fun for them to go through airport security. Their ridiculous fashion sense made me feel even older.