Standing in a bar, talking to a girl. She tells me she goes to Iona. We laugh and I pour her a drink from my pitcher. We talk some more and she tells me she has to find her friend. We pass each other a few times and then we're back together. Talking, laughing. She plays with her hair and touches my arm. She whispers something in my ear. I stare over her shoulder at the group of guys, all very aware I'm not a student. They whisper, muscles flexed, but I'm 19-20, I can take on the world. The girl walks to the bathroom, I see her stagger and her friend giggles, says she needs to help her. I drink. The group is gone. I begin to care. She appears, but is blocked by five, maybe six of them. Her friend pushes past as she falls forward, caught by this Casanova in black. Her friend comes to the bar, while my eyes stay fixed on this behemoth. His friends touch grab her and hug her, whisper in her ear. She somehow comes to the bar and tells her friends of the guys who live in her dorm. She apologies and explains they are her friends. Her eyes roll and I grab onto her. I tell her friend to let the bouncer know, I'm taking her home. He comes over and I explain that he needs to stall the group of guys. He nods. I make my way outside, her friend giggles some more. The girl starts to fall and can't speak. She kisses my cheek and tells me how nice I am. I smile. I pick her up and she starts to get mad. "I can walk. I'm fine." We cross the street and make our way up the block. A commotion behind me and I know. Her friends giggles turn to fear. "They're coming," she says. I get to the front of her building. The pack catches up. Taunts of tough guy and suggestions of putting her down and walking away. Suddenly, a punch to the head, but I keep my eyes on the door. Another in my back. Her friend is now crying. She is drooling or throwing up, I don't know. A security guard from inside stands. I sigh. He walks out. Tall, thin, but athletic enough that I relax. One last punch to the kidneys and I keep walking. "What's going on he says?" A voice from behind me yells, "This fucking creep is trying to get in on our friend." Another voice sounds and my heart starts to race, "C'mon Mike, it's us, this guy doesn't go to the school." A hand on my shoulder and the security guard sternly says "I can't let you in the building." I walk through his stiffened arm. He grabs a hold. I tell him to get off me and call the cops, but I'm going in.
I lay her down on the bed and her friend, still crying, pulls the covers down. I explain that she can't leave her alone. I get a small garbage can from the corner and put it near her. I pull the covers up and tell her goodnight. She wouldn't recognize me if she saw me the next morning. Her friend hugs and thanks me. She promises me that she won't let anyone in the room. I say something stupid about not ever getting in this situation again, but this is college and tomorrow it will be a story about how nothing happened.
I exit the stairs and there are two policemen standing there. I walk over and hand them my wallet. They ask me what I'm doing there. I explain. They don't seem to believe me. They ask Mike to check on the girl. He leaves and I ask where the guys who hit me were. They look at me and say nothing. Mike comes back and stares at me. "The two girls seem to be OK." Questions of how long I knew the girls, my intentions and my duration in their dorm room are asked. I answer all of them, asking them again where the guys who hit me were. I explain that my friend is still in the bar and I must return there. They laugh. They leave and shake the security guards hands. As they exit, they tell me that the next time I'm seen in the dorm, I won't be so lucky. They continue to walk. I go back to the bar, talk to the bouncer and ask if my friend is still there. "He's in the pizzeria," he says. I go in, sit down and have a slice. "Where the hell did you go? Did you get lucky? he asks. I laugh, "No, but the girl I was with did and so did her friend." He looks, I tell him the story and explain that there's a good chance we're not getting to the car unscathed. We didn't and 25 years later, I'd do it again.
I lay her down on the bed and her friend, still crying, pulls the covers down. I explain that she can't leave her alone. I get a small garbage can from the corner and put it near her. I pull the covers up and tell her goodnight. She wouldn't recognize me if she saw me the next morning. Her friend hugs and thanks me. She promises me that she won't let anyone in the room. I say something stupid about not ever getting in this situation again, but this is college and tomorrow it will be a story about how nothing happened.
I exit the stairs and there are two policemen standing there. I walk over and hand them my wallet. They ask me what I'm doing there. I explain. They don't seem to believe me. They ask Mike to check on the girl. He leaves and I ask where the guys who hit me were. They look at me and say nothing. Mike comes back and stares at me. "The two girls seem to be OK." Questions of how long I knew the girls, my intentions and my duration in their dorm room are asked. I answer all of them, asking them again where the guys who hit me were. I explain that my friend is still in the bar and I must return there. They laugh. They leave and shake the security guards hands. As they exit, they tell me that the next time I'm seen in the dorm, I won't be so lucky. They continue to walk. I go back to the bar, talk to the bouncer and ask if my friend is still there. "He's in the pizzeria," he says. I go in, sit down and have a slice. "Where the hell did you go? Did you get lucky? he asks. I laugh, "No, but the girl I was with did and so did her friend." He looks, I tell him the story and explain that there's a good chance we're not getting to the car unscathed. We didn't and 25 years later, I'd do it again.
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