The night is early, our eyes lock from across the dance floor. God damn she is beautiful. I can’t hold her gaze for more than a few seconds. I quickly avert my eyes and pretend I didn’t notice her looking my way. A few minutes later, I look her way once more and our eyes meet again. This time she follows up with a smile.
I feel my cheeks burning as I blush and suddenly feel self-conscious. How can this gorgeous girl be interested in me? I’m not even brave enough to speak to her even though I really want to inside. Was she even looking at me? Or someone else in the club? I feel butterflies in my tummy. Gosh, I might have a crush on her.
I’m smashed and very sick in my stomach. I think I might puke. I feel stares from everyone around me, like I did something terrible. I know they’re all looking at me, judging me. I talk to everyone around me, but my words are incomprehensible. I’m slurring as I speak. “Hey, you look cute, what’s your number?” are the words I think I say as I stumble through the crowd looking for the washroom.
I see her again and from the look on her face, I guess she isn’t very impressed by me any more. My cheeks are burning. No wait, not just my cheeks, my whole body is burning from the alcohol. Oh no, are my rashes flaring up again? I thought they wouldn’t appear if I had less than ten drinks. Wait, how many drinks did I have?
I bump into everybody on the dance floor. Somehow I managed to stumble around the dance floor one full circle and I come face to face with her again. In one brief moment highlighted by the flashing strobe lights, I managed to catch her gaze. This time, she looked away, not me. She definitely wasn’t impressed with me any more.
There was no more smile on her face. Just a sneer of disgust as though she was saying, “ugh, how can someone be that drunk?” Wait, is that the same girl as before? Everybody’s faces are blurring together, they all look the same to me.
Finally, I manage to find my way to the washroom and puke my guts out. I stumble to the sink and look at myself in the mirror. God damn, I look like a train wreck. I look at my watch, and the night is far from young.
Alcohol changes everything, I think to myself just before I hit the floor.