By the time I entered the bar, I not only looked like a different person, I felt like it, too. My entire persona had changed from tom-boyish and independent to sexy and coy. It was rather fun. I had a lot of eyes on me from the moment I walked--glided--through the door. What a confidence booster.
I headed straight to the bar and ordered a tequila. I hated the stuff, but that was Drill's favorite drink. It was good to start off with as many compatibility points as possible. I sat at the bar and pretended to take sips from it. I didn't want to drink any more than I had to before he came in. I kept the seats next to me open by blowing off a few attempts from other interested parties. It was proving more and more difficult. One large guy looked positively determined to get me in the sack before the night was through, and I ignored him as much of possible. This would probably be the only time I would ever sincerely wish to meet with a terrorist leader as soon as possible.
My drink, that I had nursed as long as possible, was nearly half-empty and it was pushing 8:30. The thought of having to order another one for Drill nearly upset my stomach. I was getting anxious. What if he didn't show at all...what then? Mentally my worries forced me to imagine several worst-case scenarios.
At a quarter to nine, I was put to ease. The Drill himself walked in, looking true to his name. His head was shaved into a gradual point at the top. Typically it would appear comical, but in this situation, it was more menacing than anything. I almost shuddered to myself as I resumed my pretended interest in the drink.
I couldn't tell if he had taken notice of me yet or not. He was loudly greeting several other punks and was deeply involved in annoying the entire bar crowd.
Time for a new tactic. I took my drink and glided over to the jukebox. It was an authentic relic from past generations and was conveniently placed directly across from where Drill was sitting with his buddies. I slipped a dollar into the machine and leaned over to examine my choices. I couldn't hear Drill's voice any longer, which I took as a sign he was paying attention. Then, I found the song I was looking for. It was a golden oldie by Aerosmith that I had never heard before, but I had it on good authority that the song was a favorite of my current subject.
When the song started playing, I gracefully leaned against the jukebox, now facing the direction of Drill but pretending not to notice him. I drank the tequila without displaying any signs of displeasure, and set the glass down. I then looked up and met Drill's eyes from across the room. Then I looked away, to make him feel dominant, smiled to myself to show him I was interested, and then looked back with "I want you" written all across my expression.
The perfected technique was all it took for Drill to come over. Men are so easy.
He slipped another dollar into the machine and leaned against it, staring into my eyes. "I always play my favorite song when I come in here."
A few seconds later, the song that had just finished playing started up again. "How 'bout that!" I coyishly smiled and giggled a few notes.
"What's your name, sugar?"
I had to think fast. "How'd you know?"
"Your name is Sugar?"
"Yeah! Are you some kind of psychic?"
He smiled at me, and then stated, "Dance with me," as he put his arms around my waist. The beat was so irregular and fast I didn't think it would be possible to dance to it, but I didn't have to worry about that because he was leading. I don't think it would be really fair to call it dancing. It was more like shifting occasionally as our two bodies tried their darndest to become one. In my ear he croaked along with the words. I had heard Aerosmith songs when I was growing up and I used to enjoy them, but that was before Drill's version of it was burned forever into my brain between his alcoholic belches.
Soon the nightmare ended and I downed what was left of the tequila. Impressed, he called a waitress over. "Two more tequilas, for me and this beautiful young lady here."
I wasn't sure if I'd be able to handle a second one, but I was about to find out as Drill escorted me away to a table in the corner.
He looked intently at me, and I did my best to flirt with him. After the waitress arrived with our drinks, he spoke. "Do you know who I am?"
I smiled. "A guy with great taste," I answered with a giggle. Ugh--how demeaning.
He seemed to like my response. "What do you think the best government system would be?"
Now for some real theatrics. "I don't like to talk about politics too much. But I just think we'd be better off without a government at all. I just have no idea how that would ever be possible."
Intrigued, he leaned closer. "What if I told you it can be possible?"
"I'd do anything I could to help. Government is so corrupt now. I think people should rule themselves. I don't need anybody telling me what to do."
He took my hand. "It's rare to find such a beautiful body with a brilliant mind. Tonight's your lucky night. I just happen to be the leader of a group that's going to get rid of all government systems and we're meeting tonight."
"Really? Tonight? I must be the luckiest gal on earth! I mean, to meet an incredible man with vision, like you, and then be invited to the biggest event in history!"
"Hey, keep it down!" He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention. "I didn't invite you, it's for members only."
I started to pout, and gave my most pathetic, "Oh." I looked him over once more and then grabbed my purse. "Well, thank you for the drink, sir. I guess you have other things you need to attend to."
"Hey, wait!" He bought my bluff. "It's for members AND a few special guests. Being leader has its advantages, you know."
"Oh, thank you! This is the most exciting night of my life!" I leaned over and gave his scrawny, grungy body a hug.
"I have a speeder waiting outside. If you don't mind abadoning your drink, we can leave now, if you want."
I authentically smiled. "Oh, I don't mind at all. Let's go."
(Go to 23.)