Sex On The Beach, On The Floor: I Can't Hold My Alcohol!

 Few things are more awkward than me at a bar. But it was a colleague's birthday, and a group of friends were going, so I pushed myself there. My nerve cells bounced erratically like yo-yos on crank, as I trekked through the crowded scene of boozers, flirts, and those eying the big busty blonde camped out at a center table. She appeared to be working on beer number three.

Thankfully, a friend and I saw each other at the bar. "Oh, hi Robyn."

"Hi, Jen. Glad to see you."

"You too. What are you getting? I'm waiting for a Martini."

"Oh, um, I don't know. I want something sweet and light. Any suggestions?"

"Go for a Sex On The Beach."

"Sounds good." Really good. I felt a drop of saliva slide down my chin.

The cute bartender turned to me. "What would you like?"

"I'll take a Sex On The Beach," I told him, smiling.

As I said this, a heavy-set bald man sitting a few inches to my right, offered an affirming half-grin. I think he approved of my order. I took a few steps back, though; he was kinda creeping me out.

Our drinks came at the same time. "Don't worry, I got it, Robyn," Jen said, handing the bartender her card.

"No, I can't let you do that." I scurried through my purse and extended my arm towards her, a $5 in my fist. Take it, Jen." She refused. As I began pulling my arm back, it happened, slowly but  decisively: My lower arm brushed against my glass and Sex On The Beach took a free-fall, crashing onto the brown tiled floor with a blasting shatter that could undoubtedly be heard in Kentucky.

Before I could blink, an apron donning employee zipped rapidly from my right to my left, then my left to my right, with a big long broom. Another was at my feet wearing rubber gloves to carefully pick up any pieces she missed. Then the mopping began. Clean-up seemed prolonged for hours, with all eyes on me. Baldy pierced me with another half-grin. This time, his expression said "You klutz, you!"

I needed to do something. "Okay, people," I announced. "Now we all know that I can't hold my alcohol!" Nobody seemed to appreciate my humor, though they slowly resumed a focus on their alcohol or the big busty blonde. Thankfully.

But what do I do now? Everyone's here from the group. They all saw that. I can't just leave; I'd draw more attention to myself. I made the only choice I could: order another Sex On The Beach.

"I gave you an extra shot this time," he told me. Extra? I couldn't even handle the first one. As I brought my drink to the table, I felt relieved that the group was engaged in chatter. But I sat fuming with awkwardness and nobody to talk to. Minutes or an hour later, my eyes caught those of a handsome man on the other side of the table.

He wasted no time in deciding to approach me. "What are you drinking there?"

"It's Sex On The Beach...Gotta get it any way I can."

"It's not as good as it sounds," he joked.

"Nah, it's messy and uncomfortable, not nearly as good as it sounds," I agreed, as if speaking from experience.

We grinned at each other, and I appreciated his nice, warm smile. His perfectly chiseled facial features didn't hurt either.

"I'm Robyn," I offered my hand.

"I'm Jake. I'm a friend of Jen's. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Would you like to dance?"

"Sure." My night was suddenly looking up.

...to be continued.