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by Dave
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1278502
Assignment #33 for The Terrace
As I sat at the bar in the smoky environs of McGinty's Tavern, nursing my third mug of brew and pondering the recent lack of activity in the social arena, the bartender, a pleasant young fellow by the name of Mickey, inquired as to the reason for my glum facade.

"Well, things have been a bit slow on the social front lately."

His eyebrows arched as he responded, "You know, Jack, I might have just the solution to your problem."

"Really? What's that?"

"I have a friend who can show you a real good time."

"And how much will this so-called good time cost me?"

"Won't cost you a cent."

Intrigued, I asked, "What's she like?"

He grinned and said, "Serena's a real live wire who's always ready to party. Meet her at the food court of the Northwoods Mall at 7:00 PM."

"Shouldn't you call her to make the arrangements?"

Still grinning, he replied, "Just trust me. She'll be there."

Recognizing that I had absolutely nothing to lose, I made my way to the food court at the appointed hour. Selecting a table near the entrance where I could observe the people coming and going, I sat down to wait for my date amidst the spicy aroma of the exotic cuisines and the bustling chatter of the shopping clientele. As I wondered what kind of dog would be available at a moment's notice, I casually observed some of the characters in the passing pedestrian traffic. There was a couple wearing identical long, straight black hair in the fashion of Cher walking arm-in-arm in their long, black trench coats. Then there was a girl with spiked orange hair and rings in her ears, nose, navel, and lower lip. Then I saw her.

Her lithesome figure came strutting down the aisle with a swagger that exuded confidence. Her long blond hair was bound in a sleek ponytail as it flowed over her bare shoulders. She wore a crimson halter-top and briefs under opaque chiffon pantaloons, a headpiece with a chiffon veil attached, and gold slippers. Striding directly to me, she spoke over the surrounding clatter, "Hi, Jack. I understand you could use some spice in your life."

"W-w-well, I guess. Why don't you have a seat so we can get acquainted?"

"Okey-dokey." She blinked her eyes twice and a large silk pillow that matched her outfit appeared on the floor at her feet. After arranging herself in the lotus position on the pillow, she asked, "What did you have in mind, Jack?"

"I thought we could have some dinner and then take in a show."

"Boooring! Listen. There's a great party going on over on Castrovalva. Why don't we check it out?"

"Castrovalva? Where's that?"

"Over in the Andromeda Galaxy just across the universe." She slid over to make room on the pillow and continued, "Sit down here. We'll be there in no time."

After glancing around to see how many people were gawking at this spectacle and finding everyone oblivious and going about their own business, I decided to go along with her little game and sat down on the pillow beside her. She nodded her head twice, and we were gone.

We made a swift ascent through brilliant chasms of strangely colored twilight into the black maw of another dimension where gravity had no meaning. I had the sensation of floating rapidly through a universe of glowing suns and galactic constellations. Directly, I became aware of an unmistakably musical sensation that reverberated through an extrasensory perception utterly alien to nature. Then there was a kaleidoscopic cataclysm of color, cacophonic sounds, and unidentifiable sense-impressions as we descended on a surreal landscape covered with alien creatures partying down at full tilt.

Some of the revelers were nothing more than vaporous figures gyrating to a pulsating rhythm as they floated over the surface. Others were gelatinous gobs of iridescent goo undulating in a mesmerizing syncopation reminiscent of the lava lamps back on earth. There were also great green hulks with tentacles that swayed to the rhythm like a conductor directing a symphony orchestra.

Among the conglomeration of extraterrestrial beings were a few participants I recognized. Elvis was there. Marilyn Monroe was singing the birthday song in her own special way. And there was a woman dressed in ancient Egyptian garb who identified herself as Cleopatra, using telepathic communication that made the language barrier irrelevant.

As we settled into this bizarre scene of merrymaking, I became aware of an aromatic vapor that engulfed us. The vapor floating over the entire area had a sweet, tangy aroma which promptly relieved all the stresses that accompanied encountering this anomalous arena. Serena took my hand and said, "C'mon, Jack. Let's join the party." After drifting over to a venue where the throbbing vibrations became recognizable as good old American rock and roll, we began to boogie down.

In a place where gravity and language are irrelevant, it should not be surprising that time is also irrelevant. So the party went on and on....and on, and a good time is being had by all. Needless to say, there will be no more complaints about my boring social life.

© Copyright 2007 Dave (drschneider at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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