Ten Rounds with Jose Cuervo

Then some stranger asked me dance
And I revealed to her my two left feet.
Said, Don't get me wrong I'm glad you asked
But tonight's about me and an old memory.

Ten Rounds with Jose Cuervo (Tracy Byrd)

I had quite enough of it, of course. Jane had done her number on me one time too many. I was fucking finished with that girl now. It wasn't that she cheated on me so much as her attitude when I caught her. I told her that I was willing to forgive her and I admitted my own infidelity at that point, not feeling right about making her feel guilty when I had done the same. She flew into a rage at that and made it clear that she wouldn't forgive me for what I did, despite my having been so understanding of her. That did it. We had both cheated at the same party, being a bit sauced and neither of us had fooled around prior to that. We were in the same boat, weren't we? I didn't need her double standards. I needed her to get her head screwed on straight and let this go just as I had.

I was furious with her, but it still hurt, so I went off to lick my wounds, telling Jane, "I'm going to Cavanaugh's. When you're ready to get your head out of your ass and forgive me the way that I forgave you, maybe we can talk things over and see where we are. Until then, consider this a break. Our relationship is suspended until further notice."

Jane stood there in shock, trying to mutter out some kind of lame excuse for her hypocrisy, while I grabbed my jacket and headed to the Irish pub, walking as I didn't wish a DUI, and Cavanaugh's wasn't that far away from the apartment that Jane and I shared. If she did anything to my stuff in the meantime, I'd already decided to sue her ass over it. I was that angry right then. She had no call to judge me since she did the same thing as me. We should have just let it go and kissed and made up, but instead she chose to cop an attitude about it.

When I reached Cavanaugh's, the newest performance had begun for the Saturday night bands theme, but I was annoyed with how off-key the lead singer seemed to be as she covered "Do You Have To Let It Linger?" by the Cranberries. Then again, maybe it was just an off night for her or something, and she was kind of cute in a punky way, with short reddish brown hair clearly meant as a tribute to her musical idol. I just didn't see how I would put Jane past me with that racket in the background, but I had to try, to escape the pain of this major fight with my estranged girlfriend.

"Alright, Hoss, what will it be?" asked the barkeep, whom I didn't recognize.

"Name's Ike. And it will be Cuervo Gold. Hold the worm, please," I joked a little despite my misery.

"On the rocks?" the man asked me.

"Hell, no! I want it straight and neat. No chaser. Salt and lime, though," I told him, knowing exactly what I wanted.

"So be it, Sonny. Sorry...Ike, you said, right? I'm BJ. Short for Billy Joel, but then my parents were big fans of his," the guy said through his decaying teeth.

"Ah, I see," I smiled as I tossed back the tequila with salt and lime.

It was like a jolt of electricity or a bolt of lightning coursing through my body rather suddenly. It was too soon for the buzz to kick in yet, but the anticipation of it was excitement enough in its own way. It didn't take long for the liquor to hit me, however, especially on an empty stomach, as I had no appetite for any food, just for booze. It wasn't quite enough to make me feel too much better, but at least my boots started dancing in response to the rather melodic song, which was rather strange to me, given how I felt earlier about it.

"Hit me again, BJ," I told the barkeep, wanting more at this juncture.

"Sure, buddy," he grinned, pouring me another shot, which I downed in short order.

Now, of course, I didn't mind the singing so much, as the Cranberries' cover band played yet another of their hits. They actually sounded a bit poetic in fact, though I wasn't sure if that was honeyed tea in their throats or just enough tequila in my blood to destroy my taste in music. It didn't matter just then, because I was happy as a clam, though I'm still not sure what's so happy about a clam (they're dinner, after all). Speaking of which, that was the moment that I stupidly decided that I should eat something at last, slow down the effects of alcohol. Boy was that a futile exercise, especially given what was to follow.

"I think that I need a bite to eat. Some sliders, if you will," I ordered, which made BJ shake his head a bit, but he promptly gave the order to a waitress, who passed it on to the cooks.

"Hey, honey, how about a dance?" a very soft, silky voice uttered from behind me, causing me to turn around.

Standing in front of me was a woman who was either pure feminine sensuality or else a prime example of beer (or tequila) goggles run amok. At least to my altered perception, she was about five feet, three inches tall and unmistakably olive in her skin tone. Her breasts begged to be fondled, so open was her cleavage to the public, and her hips were covered only by her lengthy T-shirt, as her jeans started below them. Forget hip-huggers, these were thigh-huggers, and I was pretty sure that underneath the shirt, she was at most covered by a thong.

"Thanks, I'm glad that you asked...but don't take this the wrong way, please. It's just a bad night for that. It's not about a new start for me tonight. It's about nostalgia for the good times, my old life, and old memories. Sorry, but I wouldn't do a woman like you justice. I'm likely to be pretty wasted by the end of the night and that would ruin any dance, I think," I warned her.

"Bullshit, stud. Sorry, but I'm not biting. Another round for this guy. He means well, but I want to loosen him up properly. I'm paying for this one and his previous drinks. If he wants to start a tab, he can do so after the dance," the strange lady announced.

"He's ordered some food, too, hon," BJ warned her.

"Put that on my tab, too. This guy is suffering enough without a big bill at the end," she insisted as BJ poured me a third round.

I downed it, nodded gratefully, and felt much better, especially knowing that this girl seemed to like me a lot, which certainly helped my ego. She reached out her arm and I took it as the warmth of the third shot reached my belly, mixing its heat with that of our lust and our sweat that night. No time for excuses and I was enjoying myself a bit more, so I danced a while with this sweet lady, who had been at least a decade my junior. Since I was 33, that, she couldn't be more than 23, tops.

We stopped after a bit of fun, as she came dangerously close to kissing my lips several times and even touched my face twice. I started to eat my sliders, while I gestured for the barkeep to start a new tab for me.

"Cheers!" I told the stranger as she laughed and clinked glasses with me.

"Bottoms up!" she tossed back her shot of Maker's Mark while I downed my Cuervo.

I'm not honestly sure where those moves came from as we danced again, since frankly, I'm not sure that they even existed prior to my drunken dance, and let's face it, I was already a bit sauced now. Several minutes of this seemed to impress my dancing partner, and even the lead singer of the band winked at me in the middle of one of her verses, evidently turned on by my movements or something. I kept it up for a bit, though I soon felt the urge for another drink, to make sure to drown Jane for real.

My companion sat next to me and stole a couple of my sliders, but since she paid for them and I didn't want to get too sick, I wasn't about to complain. Besides, the more I drank, the cuter it seemed when she did that sort of thing. By the time I followed this fifth shot with a sixth, Jane was the furthest thing from my mind. I enjoyed the crowd, the smoke, the drinks, the music, my new dancing partner, and the sliders. Most of all, I enjoyed not worrying about a damn thing at all.

Of course, now I was feeling a bit generous, but here things became a bit blurred. I'm still not sure if it was the seventh or eighth shot of Cuervo that convinced me that buying a round for the entire pub was a great plan, but it sure made me very popular. Apparently, someone then decided to return my generosity, so despite not really planning on it, I downed the ninth round offered by the lead singer. I should have quit right then, and people, especially the barkeep, were sure that I would. I started to really lose my balance, but as soon as I paid my tab and thought that I was done, my sexy stranger bought one more shot of Cuervo. I wasn't sure why she did it, but I couldn't refuse her generous offer.

I tried to count to myself how many shots I had, realizing that I went well beyond what I had originally planned, but I lost count and had to start recounting. I was too far gone to remember beyond that, of course. I was feeling no pain at all. I started to black out and yet even as I faded, I knew that everything would be just fine.

That was how I found myself lying face down on a strange bed, which was where I awoke not a dozen minutes ago where I started to remember the night before the best I could. Somehow, I knew that this wasn't Jane's bedsheet, pillow, and comforter for sure, so things were better already. Damn, did I just smell coffee brewing? Perhaps I would need to get up and find out. Whoever's bed this was, they couldn't be too bad, could they, if they liked a good cup of Joe?