(Author’s note: I apologize for the two-week lapse. As you know, it is my intention to post weekly on Wednesday mornings, but where I live in California, Pacific Gas and Electric created a pre-emptive blackout to avoid firestorms. However disgruntled I am, I am also grateful. As the blackout was progressing, I also had surgery to reconstruct my right foot, and then had adverse reactions to the pain medications. Writing was the last thing on my mind.
For those of you who personally know me and recognize the names of these characters, this story is absolute fiction. Because I cannot remember the real story, I made one up. It could have happened this way….)
Night shadows comforted Margie, unlike so many of her sorority sisters who played a girly game of foolish fears. She enjoyed the walk from the Alpha Phi house to the fraternity across the commons. The air was warm, the walk was straight, and she felt like a million bucks. She looked like it too, and she knew it.
As she approached the house, a man stood in the shadows under the front window, finishing a cigarette. He stamped it into the dirt at his feet and smiled as she breezed past. Though he was short, he was not bad looking, but this was the first party of the season and she had no plans to talk to the very first man she saw. There was a multitude of handsome fish in this sea and she planned to get to know as many as she could.
The party was hopping. Men and women filled the middle of the great room, dancing with no one and everyone. There was an earnest crowd against the back wall engaged in deep conversation, though how they could hear each other was anyone’s guess. The bar was in the kitchen. She headed there for a something she could nurse for a while.
The bartender was an eyeful, tall, muscular, maybe a swimmer. His curly hair was sexy and his eyes flashed with mischief. “What can I do you for?” he said, suggestively. His bedroom eyed “come hither” didn’t go unnoticed, but she had no intention of letting him know that.
A couple stood at the kitchen island sipping from tall glass mugs filled with a strange, slushy green liquid. “What is that?” she said, nodding toward them.
“Oh, that. Old house recipe – we call it a “Skip and Go Naked.” He leaned toward her and winked.
“That’s a strange name. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were leading me astray.”
“I would never do such a thing,” he said, patting his heart as if she had pricked him, but then he winked again.
“Is it as refreshing as it looks?” she said.
“I could make you one.”
She patted the butcher-block counter on the island. “Okay, now you’re talkin’. I’ll try one.”
“Coming up.” He chuckled.
He grabbed a beer stein and scooped crushed ice into it. He dumped it into his hand mixer. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a small can of frozen lime juice. He popped it open and poured it slowly, letting it sensually ooze over the ice, all the while making goo goo eyes at her. He filled the lime can with vodka and poured that in. Margie was proud of her ability to drink men under the table but that was a lot of vodka.
He added to the vodka the same amount of beer.
Oh, dear.
He tightened the lid on the mixer, then, performed a jiggy little dance just for her, winking from time to time, suggestively.
What a flirt. Margie smiled as he danced, quite enjoying his display. She hoped the drink was worth all the effort he was putting into it. He stopped dancing and looked her squarely in the eye.
“You sure about this?” he said.
“Damn sure,” she exclaimed.
“You could skip it,” he said.
She laughed. “And go naked. I know. I’ll take the drink, please.” She smiled as he handed her the heavy, icy mug.
Margie curtsied, dropped three bucks into his donation jar, and left the kitchen to cruise the party.
He whistled at her.
She canted one hip as she exited, swinging her flirty skirt around her knees. She nodded at people as she cruised the party, danced as she slipped through the crowd, and smiled at every man that glanced her way.
The mug grew heavy in her hand. As she sipped the green drink, she realized how so very thirsty she was. My, oh my, it was certainly a quencher. Many of her fellow partiers also enjoyed the darn thing. As she strolled around the great room watching the antics of men trying to impress women, her sips turned into gulps until she inhaled the last of the slushy delight. It was so smooth going down, and tantalizingly delicious. She wondered who, on earth, named it Skip and Go Naked? Its mouth feel was reminiscent of skinny-dipping in the cold lake back home. Her joints loosened as happiness flooded her body. Whew. So happy. The oozing euphoria loosened her brain, which plopped onto her toes. Oh dear, the room spun and a warm, muzzy flush warmed her cheeks. She wanted another mug of green happiness. She had a few dollars left. She could get another.
Someone grabbed her elbow and in a deep voice, said, “Steady there. Let me help you.”
Her head slowly swiveled, as she followed his voice in her left ear. It was the young man in front of the House smoking a cigarette when she arrived. His eyes were kind and filled with intelligent humor. Damn, he smelled good. What was it, Old Spice?
“Oh, dear,” she said, forgetting about wanting another drink. “I think I should have skipped and gone naked after all.”
He laughed. “I think you need some fresh air. Would you accompany me to the porch? It’s relatively quiet. You could sit and get your bearings.”
“It would be terribly nice of you to accompany me.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
He led her to a bench on the porch that overlooked the commons. There were a few people wandering, taking a break from the party, but it was indeed, quiet.
“Thank you,” she said, as she sat down.
“You’re Alpha Phi, right,” he said.
“Right,” she drawled.
He sat next to her. ”I’ll walk you home in a few minutes. I am sure when we get there, we can find a sister or two to help you into the door.”
“You are so kind,” she said, leaning into him. The Old Spice comforted her. “My name’s Margie,” she said. Then, she hiccoughed. “Oops. Sorry.” She covered her mouth.
He smiled and draped his letter jacket over her shoulders. “Donald. I live here.” He nodded toward the front door.
It was nice to know he was college man.
They sat in companionable silence soaking up the sounds of the party and appreciating the cool of the night. Two couples left, one immediately, another twenty minutes later, reeling from what Margie assumed were healthy doses of the lethal Skip and Go Naked concoction. Donald stood and held out his hand. “Milady,” he said. “Would you accompany me across the commons?”
“Thank you kind sir,” she replied.
At the Alpha Phi House, Donald shook her hand, bowed, and said, “It was very nice meeting you. May I call on you soon?”
“I would like that very much,” said Margie.
Donald called on Margie; they dated, and eventually married. Skip and Go Naked was a favorite party drink in their house. They lived happily ever after.
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