Tequila and Limes | Menories Journal

Tequila and Limes | Menories Journal

A Story by Haley
"

A tequila shot with some lime never hurt anyone.

"

From an early age, I knew that I didn’t want to get married. For whatever reason, I had always seen though the pretty decorations and big celebrations and saw marriage for what I thought it was, a joke. I thought marriage to be a restraint, and I had seen my fair share of affairs to know that a ring wouldn’t stop a cheater. And from a young age, I knew I wanted freedom. At 13, I recall proudly making the statement in the backseat of the family car that I was never going to get married, that I was to live a life of luxury with a number of boyfriends. My mom immediately disapproved of this plan. In high school, 15, it was in a school science lab that a friend claimed I was most likely to show up to our 30 year high school reunion in a limo with a much younger man on my arm.

            Marriage was cause for celebration, many, if not all couples, usually had a few celebrations before the wedding, one of those celebrations being a bachelor or bachelorette party. Honestly, while I am still iffy about marriage, and my friends are miles away from getting married, it would be the bachelorette party that I would be most excited about. After all, I already had experience after crashing a stranger’s bachelor party.

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            When working a retail job in a city like San Francisco, getting after-work drinks with a coworker was almost a necessity. Retail life had me walking nearly seven miles a day and using piles of clothes as free weights which meant at the end of the day, my body was exhausted and in need of a pick-me up. It had been one of the busier days at the department store I worked at, people shopping end of summer sales or back to school shopping, and after a particularly nasty customer, my coworker Kaitlyn and I devised a plan to get drinks at one of San Francisco’s best rooftop bars.

            We were off by 7 PM, early enough that we could watch the sun set, painting the entire roof a shade of amber-y orange, as we secured a giant 8-person table. While the other six seats were occupied and in their own bubbles, the summer winds of the city made the umbrellas around us flap in the breeze and Kaitlyn and I found ourselves thankful for the heating lamp beside us. The bar itself was beautiful and slightly elusive, it was in San Francisco’s mission district and had one of the city’s most popular restaurants beneath it, a line going the whole city block down as people waited for their turn at a strong margarita and some fresh guacamole.

            Kaitlyn and I talked amongst ourselves, spending the first thirty minutes or so talking about her new position and how she liked working with a certain manager, before changing the topic to her recent breakup. She told me how she had been with her ex for almost six years and wasn’t sure if she was ready to get back out there; I insisted she was. For months, I had heard of nothing else besides stupid fights and she was ready for someone with more maturity, in part so I didn’t have to hear about a boy acting like a toddler again. As if on cue, a group of men suddenly approached us asking if they could share our large table, the six other seats once filled now vacant and waiting for occupancy.

            Without waiting for a response, eight or so men took the empty chairs and huddled around the table, thanking us for the table as they did. They were all probably mid-thirties, well dressed in San Francisco’s finance bro uniform, a button down with a puffer vest and some khaki pants and turned their attention towards us within seconds of them sitting down, asking us if we’d like some shots. Kaitlyn and I looked at each other, a smirk on both of our faces as we knew this was the just the start of that night.

            After a 3, 2, 1 countdown and a clink on the table, we all threw the chilled tequila shots back. Kaitlyn sticking her tongue out after she did so as if to take away the after taste. One of the men, the most handsome of the bunch, laughed at her softly as she did so. The men ordered three pitchers of margaritas and appetizers, fully inviting us into their group, welcome to share their pitchers and food, which they then explained was their buddy’s bachelor party. Kaitlyn and I beamed at the man, clapping, and celebrating his new life adventure, while also thankful for the bounty of free food and alcohol in front of us.

            The man who had laughed at Kaitlyn’s expression came over to us, a confident swagger, taking the seat across from Kaitlyn and introducing himself as Roger. A few more of the men surrounded us and introduced themselves, I was too buzzy to care or remember, but watched Roger talk to Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn was beautiful and one of the girls that was rarely single, so I was eager to play wing-woman for her. We asked the boys what they did, as Kaitlyn and I tried to guess. Most of them worked in finance or tech, with two of them being actual rocket engineers, one of those two being Roger, our guesses way off course.

            As the night continued so did the margaritas, the three initial pitchers now doubling into six. There was never a moment a drink was not in our hands, Kaitlyn and I making sure to pour our own drinks every time and sipping on a glass of water occasionally. As Roger flirted with Kaitlyn, the groom to be came over to occupy me. I remember asking him if he was having fun and if he was excited, his face glowing whenever he talked about his fiancée. I smiled, telling him it was sweet he was so excited. The groom to-be thanked me, then turned towards Roger and Kaitlyn, whose chairs had gotten closer and closer together as the night progressed. He reassured me that his friend was a good guy and that Kaitlyn would be in good hands. I repeated the same sentiment about Kaitlyn. We fell quiet for a second before the groom to-be asked which of his friends I thought was cute, using his hand to motion to the crowd of men behind him.  

            I laughed as I scanned the crowd, not eager to play his game of match-maker but bored enough to play along. As I tried to focus, squinting my eyes almost menacingly, I pointed at some random man in the bachelor party. The groom smiled at me, his eyes wide, before claiming that the man had been talking about me all night. I laughed citing my doubt, before standing up to go to the bathroom. As I stood, the alcohol hit my body like a train, everything beginning to be a bit squiggly and my feet harder to pick up, but regardless, I was headed to the bathroom.

            I walked, lifting one heavy boot off the ground after the other, focused on the bathroom door when the man I had previously pointed to came to join me. He spoke softly, introducing himself as Ryan and asked if I was having a good time, I smiled but noted that I was headed to the bathroom and would be right out. Ryan nodded, standing back and watching me walk the rest of the way to the bathroom.

            I looked at the time on my phone, 1:35 AM, and one last look at myself in the bathroom mirror before exiting. Ryan, the man who had walked with me to the bathroom was standing outside of the door, leaning on a metal pole as he waited for what I could only guess to be me. As I opened the door he sprang to life, nearly jumping next to my side and asking if I wanted a night cap. I smiled and declined politely, mentioning the time and the need to get home.

            Hobbling back to the table, Kaitlyn and Roger were all but on each other’s laps as I mentioned the time to Kaitlyn and that I was going to call it a night. Kaitlyn jumped up off of his lap and agreed it was time to go, she was going to go with Roger, but would wait for my car with me outside. The groom waved goodbye before yelling and asking about his friend that he had sicced on me. I shook my head no from a distance, waiting with Kaitlyn and Roger for the elevator down to the road, my car home now minutes away.

            I was ready to be done, ready for my bed, and done with socializing; however Ryan was not done with me yet. He found his way down to the ground level, his own steps wobbly and his words slurred as he pleaded with me to come back to his. At the same moment that he reached for my arm, my rideshare arrived. I ran over to hug Kaitlyn goodbye, telling her to text me in the morning, before jumping into my car, once buckled, head falling against the headrest.  

            Months later, a relationship between Roger and Kaitlyn forming for a short while, and the rooftop bar but a memory, I would run into Ryan on BART, the Bay Area subway, where we would have to stand face to face for thirty minutes before I could escape the train. I wasn’t sure if he remembered me, the night was a blur and filled with limes and tequila, but as he stared me down for the majority of the train ride I knew he did.

© 2021 Haley


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The ending sent a secret thrill running up and down my spine! An indignant kind of stare can sometimes be such a turn on. Loved the setting, the evening out and the romance and anticipation in the air. You told the tale with such flair and kept me so engrossed till the very last!

Posted 1 Day Ago


Wow. So awkward! Facing off in the subway after rejecting his efforts and advances on that particular night. Ouch. I am sure he is quietly fuming and gripping the train carriage pole a little too tightly. It must make for an uncomfortable journey. It's always wise to seek out the comforts of the pillow when one is heavy on the footwork after a few too many drinks. No regrets for the following morning. I enjoy your little life snippets in your stories. Always true to life and relatable and well written. 🌹

Posted 1 Day Ago



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Added on February 22, 2021
Last Updated on February 22, 2021
Tags: nonfiction, short story, quick read, dating, lifestyle, romance, humor, satire

Author

Haley
Haley

CA



About
Menories - Memories or Stories about Men Detailing encounters I've had with men in my life - from short run-in's to those who have had long lasting effects. It's the story of getting into a Lyft at.. more..

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