Remembering The Pulsing City

Its dark and the music is pounding away at the ground, sending its vibrations into my chest so that my heart seems to beat at the same tempo. An armada of dancers spin and twirl laughing as their bodies mingle and touch in ways that in any other time or place is considered an invasion of ones own personal space. Hips grind against an other's pelvis reenacting the ancient dance that all animals know by instinct. With a martini glass filled with the dark cherry red of a Shirley temple my fourteen year old self relishes this type of atmosphere. I feel grown and powerful, no adult within a mile of me can tell me what to do or where to go. This is Seattle the capital of dark desires and deep depression, where the street always smells of rain and something a bit more animal.

In my army boots and mini skirt I know that I could attract the wrong kind of attention but I want her to notice me. She was cute and klutzy and smelt of a sweetness I couldn't place, it was marijuana but how was I supposed to know. I lean against a small table that has been set up for intimate conversation or a place to put your glass. I know how the line of my body looks in the dimmed light. Pushing my long curly hair out of my eyes with one graceful, practiced flip of my head I watch her from across the room. I want her in a way I can't explain to myself or anyone else, I just know that with her lips against mine those stories that I write could possibly come true. Sex is an enigma and I wanted to explore all the dark corners of this mystery.

With the music pulsing I can see through my dark lashes that she is slowly making her way over to me. Her hip brushing a mans side, her shoulder touching another woman's shoulder. She swims through a sea of people, I wonder if this is a metaphor for my life.

Just as my heart begins to pick up speed at her ever closer proximity a hand reaches out and turns me around. Its the girl from the conference. Slight disgusts fills me as her plain brown eyes bore into mine. In what she probably believes to be a sultry voice she asks if her and I could find somewhere else to go so that we can "get to know each other better". I can feel my cherry infused drink coming back up. I glace quickly to spot her still working through the crowd. Looking back at this womyn who seems so hopeful I try my damnedest not to cringe. "I am sorry", I tell her, I am wondering how to tell her that I am not interested in a sophisticated way but instead I say "I..uhh..I'm not that way" Crestfallen she stumbles over her oks and leaves me to lounge against the small table. Just as she leaves the woman I want comes near enough to touch.

My breath catches as I realize that in this crowd if her hips were up against mine no one would think twice. Surreptitiously I maneuver my body so that it touches hers. We are in a crowed room how can I not take advantage of this golden opportunity? Through my elation and the fire that is steadily spreading throughout my body at every point that smooth skin touches mine I feel a heavy stone of guilt. I am openly flirting with a woman who is just that a woman when I just turned down a girl who was suitably close to my age. Laughing and clutching my glass so that I appear an experienced woman I continue to flirt with a woman I know I cannot have. My legs are trembling in my four inch high army boots as I can smell her shampoo and see the slight almond color of her eyes.


With her body touching mine I walk arm in arm away from the party not failing to notice the girl from the conference staring me down as I through my head back and laugh in a voice that I know can bring stronger men to their knees.

I'm such a whore.

Nena