There's a new bar in Plano, called Union Bear. Every night since it opened, it has been packed. The parking lot is completely full and parking goes all the way down the street for blocks. The space is perfect for gathering with your friends. It is cozy enough to where you don't have to scream to be heard, but busy enough to where you blend in with everyone. People are standing around the bar, and the tables are full, but the service is still great. Especially our waitress; she seems to have an infectious positive energy about her.
An air of confidence, but not bitchiness. My coworkers and I decided to have happy hour here tonight. It was great fun, decently priced, and the food is surprisingly good for being a bar. I was about three beers in when my coworkers started dropping like flies. It has been just the longest week, and everyone was simply exhausted. I get it. I just was not ready to leave yet and there was something about the waitress that peaked my attention. Something about her felt familiar, but I just couldn't place it.
Over the trips from the table to the bar, and back to the table, and back to the bar, as she waited on us, I learned things about her. She had gone to the same university as I had and she was almost my age, just a year younger. She was working as a teacher at a private school and bartending on the weekends just for fun, and to make a little extra money. She said she liked teaching, but needed more grown-up conversation, although, she said that drunks are a lot like elementary school kids. I get that. After most of my coworkers had left, it was just me and Grace. Her boyfriend Wyatt works at a food truck and didn't get off until 2 a.m. when the local bars closed.
Grace wasn't in a hurry to get home to an empty house, except for her dog which she had let out between work and our hours of 'happy hour'. Grace and I were talking about the program we graduated from. She's 20 years younger than me, but we have the same degree/same major and same minor. It was during this conversation that the waitress and I realized that we had classes together! And the more we talked about it, the more I remembered her being in several of them, my junior year and early senior year before I took my internships and graduated.
Her name is Michelle, and she looks mostly the same as I can remember. Blonde shoulder length hair, about 6 inches taller than me, and if I had to guess, she's probably a size 8 or 10. Kind of average looking woman, but she was spunky and funny back in the day. Now, I would describe her as 'full of personality'. Her laughter was contagious, and she was a damn good waitress, too. I couldn't believe it took me all night to remember who she was, and as it all clicked, it seemed like we both made the realization at the same time. She brought Grace and I another round of drinks and stayed to chat for a little bit, but she still had tables to serve. Every time she came back to the table, she would rest her arm on my shoulder, which was awkwardly familiar for someone I hadn't seen in 20+ years. I tried hard not to notice that her fingertips very inadvertently brushed the top of my breast each time she rested her arm there on my shoulder. I knew it was unintentional, but I couldn't help but feel it, notice it, and try really hard not to blush.
It was getting kind of late, and Grace thought she better go home to let her dog, Dougie, out and to get ready for bed. Grace cashed out with Michelle, and Michelle asked me if I would stay for one more drink. She said she was about to clock out and that she didn't have closing-time duties like the other staff did. What's one more drink?
Michelle and I sat and chitchatted for quite some time. She told me about graduating and getting married. About divorcing. She said she wasn't really into having kids and that after the divorce, she was free to do whatever she wanted to do, however she wanted to do it, and with whoever she wanted. Now, you know drunk me is a little more flirtatious than I probably should be. The words, "Oh, so you just have whatever kind of sex with whoever you want, whenever you want it?" It wasn't as loud in the bar as I thought it was and I was quickly embarrassed by being so forward and loud.
However, Michelle leaned in really close to my face, and said, "Yes I do."I was surprised, and even more so when she said, "And, tonight I think it's you."
Holy hell. What!?! I was buzzed just enough to be completely turned on, and just sober enough to think that this girl is crazy. I told her that I've never been with a woman and that it seemed weird to even think about being with her.
She said, "That's dumb, but if a man being there makes you feel more comfortable, then so be it. Call your husband and see if he wants to join us."
I know Kyle; that is not his cup of tea. In fact, he told me many many years ago that me being with another woman was cheating. We've both grown up a bunch since then, but I've never questioned his statement. I still think he believes it. I think he would turn down an opportunity for a threesome. But I know a man that would never say no... and that man is you.
Michelle got up from the table to go grab us another drink but told me to call you to join us; especially if it would make me feel more comfortable and be available for her tonight. It's super late, there's no way that you are leaving your house to join us... But I have to know. I feel compelled to have this experience, but I'm not doing it alone. This woman might be a psychopath! Dying in a threesome might the coolest way to die though.
I open my phone and have serious debate about texting you, but I figured that you'd find some way to play it off if it got you in trouble. I texted, "Matt, this is insane. I ran into an old friend from college tonight, and I am pretty sure I'm really drunk, but she has asked me to follow her home and to find someone to join me. Like, join join me. At her house. Will you join me? Or at least save me if she's a serial killer or something?"
It wasn't 30 seconds later that you replied: "What's the address?"
About that time, Michelle came back to the table, and she said, "I can tell by your face that he said yes." She said that she lived in Celina and wondered if that was too far? She wrote down the address, and I texted it to you. I looked up at her before we walked away from the table and she had this crazy sparkle and mischievousness in her eyes.
Oh my God, Matt! I cannot believe this is actually going to happen.
We walked out of Union Bear together, but she was parked behind it in employee parking, and I was parked several blocks away. She asked me if I was going to stand her up, and my words said no, but my mind was freaking out. I think she could tell, so she leaned forward, put her arms around my waist, and kissed me.
What the heck!?! Right there in front of everyone, I'm kissing another woman. The sense of everyone watching disappeared as I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment. Her lips were so soft and delicate. Her tongue slick as it slid against my tongue. She wanted me. And I was lost in the moment of wanting her. Our lips parted and she stared very intently into my eyes. The kiss was over and the vulnerability of having just kissed another woman washed all over me. I didn't complain; definitely did not fight her off, but I was hyperaware of the coming and going of people around us.
