PARTY
Dess felt the vibrations of the nightclub from the end of Main Street. Dess had lived in Bixby all her life, and many of her days as a college student had been spent at the local nightclub. In Dess' day as a youngster, the nightclub had been a pretty empty place. But after years of population growth, the Bixby nightclub was packed with people. Dess parked Jonathan's car and walked across the street to the front entrance of the nightclub. "Welcome to the Bixby Nightclub," a security guard said to Dess. Dess pulled out Jonathan's wallet, which she had found in the glovebox of his car. "How much do you need?" Dess asked the guard.
"A twenty dollar entry fee," the guard replied. Dess pulled a fresh twenty dollar note out of the wallet. "Don't you need to see my ID?" Dess asked.
"I think that it's obvious you're over 18," the guard replied. Dess scowled.
"I don't need anything else to lower my self esteem, thanks," Dess conceded with the guard, smiling bitterly at him. Dess walked into the nightclub. "Wow," Dess said under her breath. The place had certainly changed. When Dess used to frequent the nightclub, all it was was an old hall with a turntable in the corner. But now, Dess thought, it was classy. Dess was standing on a slippery, polished concrete floor. The old brick walls had fishtanks mounted to them. And the bar, well, it was amazing. The bar was extremely long, with a glass tabletop and heaps of barstools. A techno beat pounded from speakers in every corner of the room, making the floor rumble. And the people – there were so many of them! Dess looked at the floor, embarrassed, when she realised to her discomfort that most of the people in the nightclub were younger than her. A lot younger than her. A bit of booze will fix that, Dess thought, and she wandered over to the bar. "Yo, barman!" Dess cried over the music. The barman turned away from a glass he was cleaning and faced Dess. "Yeah," he said casually.
"What do you have that's both expensive and extremely alcoholic?" Dess asked sweetly.
"I'll make you a cocktail," the barman said.
"Whatever," Dess said, blowing hair out of her eyes. "Oh, and make two, please." The barman wandered over to the other side of the bar and busied himself making the cocktails. Shortly, he returned with the drinks. "That'll be One Hundred and Twenty Bucks, thanks," he said.
"Yay!" Dess cried, pulling out Jonathan's wallet. Dess withdrew one of Jonathan's many ATM cards, hoping that one of them actually had some money on it. Dess threw the card at the barman. "Knock yourself out," Dess said with a warm smile. Dess took a sip of one of her cocktails, and grimaced. No way near as good as beer, Dess thought, But at least it's extremely alcoholic! Dess skulled one drink, and handed the glass to a speechless barmaid. "Thanks, sweetie," Dess said. The barman returned with the ATM card, and handed it back to Dess. "You know," the barman said, staring at Dess' already-empty glass. "You shouldn't drink those cocktails so fast." Dess giggled.
"I'll be alright," she assured him, but she knew she wouldn't. Dess picked up the other glass, and skulled it as well.