Why Didn't You Tell Me?

         Courtney strutted through the dark club with swishing hips, glossy pink lips and an overwhelming animalistic growl. All eyes followed the pilgrimage to the bar to quench a thirst only vodka could cure. A well place hand on the hip, a gentle chortle at a comrade’s joke, a flirtatious wink of the doe-brown eyes. A humanized example of perfection rolled in the sprinkles of awesome, touched with the cherry of mystery.

         The bartender leaned over and purred so softly Courtney had to lean in to hear his sibilant speech. “Something so pretty as you deserves a drink in each hand.”

         A red flush ravaged Courtney’s cheeks, coaxing a timid tongue to brush over thin parched lips.

         “Why didn’t you tell me?” A voice cracked from behind Courtney. “Why didn’t you tell me you were thirsty. I’da taken care of ya.” A burly man with thick muttonchops leaned over and sniffed Courtney’s dark curls.

         “I was getting drinks!” Another turned toward the gathering crowd of Courtney followers, two Long Islands in each fist.

         “Fools!” A third man exclaimed. “I’m with Courtney!” A bottle of Sauvignon blanc and two wine classes in his hands. 

         “Pick one of us!” A fourth man shouted from under the cloak of the thump, thump, thump of the dub-step pumping through the subs.

         Courtney’s fan club, with their snarky and demanding voices, grumbled angrily in the guise of true lust. It was time to choose.

         “Well,” Courtney began in a shadow of a whisper, “I’m in love with you all.”

         The grumbles of the angry men assaulted Courtney’s senses lashing deep in the heart. Pleasing everyone has always been a priority.

         “Um…” A cleared throat. “I choose me.”

         Courtney slicked back his short curls, puckered his ballerina pink lips, and swaggered off through the seizure inducing strobes.