(A word of caution: this fiction series may occasionally stray from a PG-13 rating to an R rating. Proceed at your own risk!)
If you missed Chapter 7, click here.
Customers began trickling in at first, and then they came in droves. Woody pitched in and helped Brenda take money and stamp hands to ease the bottleneck at the door. There was always excitement in the air on Friday nights. Maybe it was the possibility of “hooking up;” maybe it was the chance of meeting one’s soul-mate; or maybe it was just the knowledge that for most, the following day they could sleep in. Whatever the case, there was always extra excitement and laughter from the crowd as they streamed into the dance hall full of anticipation.
Elizabeth, Sandy, and Ginger paid their admission, got their hands stamped, and made a beeline for a table near the middle of the room. Sitting closer to the dance floor than to the wall increased your chances of dancing, so they immediately staked their claim to the dance floor end of table number 7, by putting their sweaters on the backs of the chairs and setting their drinks in front of their chairs.
While Patty and the Sidewinders opened the set with “I Feel the Earth Move,” Sandy made her way the concession stand to get some snacks for them to munch on “to keep up their strength” as Ginger liked to say. Loaded down with Pretzels, Ripple Chips and cheese dip, she collided with a man in black jeans and a checkered shirt. Though she managed to hang onto the dip, the bags of Pretzels and Ripple Chips went flying.
To her dismay, Sandy lost her balance and almost fell to the floor. The immovable obstacle she’d encountered managed to catch her in his arms before she landed on her dropped snacks and pulverized them.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” she snapped before she turned and saw the culprit. He was close to six feet tall, rugged with black curly hair tinged with silver, and big blue eyes.
“I am so sorry! Are you alright,” he asked with what appeared to be true concern. “It’s my fault. I don’t know where my mind was!” He released her when he was sure she was steady on her feet. “Are you sure you’re not hurt? “
“No, I’m fine, really. I was kind of snippy because I had my hands full and didn’t want to replace everything if I stepped or fell on it!”
“Well, if you decide you need any more snacks or soda tonight, you tell them at the concession stand that Woody says it’s on him.” And then he continued on his way. Sandy turned and watched his back as he moved across the room, then returned to her table where Elizabeth and Ginger were waiting.
“What was that about?” asked Ginger, having witnessed the near-catastrophe. “Are you trying to put a move on the owner of this place tonight, or what?”
“What do you mean?” Sandy inquired, answering her friend’s question with another.
“That was Woody Blackstone, the owner of this joint,” Ginger answered. “He’s been single for quite a while, and more than one of the women here has made an unsuccessful run on him. Just thought I’d let you know that you may be headed down a dead end highway.”
“I’m not ‘headed’ anywhere. I was just trying to bring our munchies back to the table and he almost ran over me! “
“You, girl, have all the luck! What a hunk. He can run over me anytime, as long as he lingers on top of me a little while,” exclaimed Ginger.
At this, the three women burst out laughing.
“You’re incorrigible, Ginger,” chuckled Sandy. But she turned and looked for Woody Blackstone in the crowd.(To be continued.)