by lisiagho
“Have you ever done body shots?” he asks.
I don’t know what that is but it sounds like something my nerdy teenage self would’ve been too chicken to try. “Uh, no.”
“Do you want to try it?”
“What do you do, take photos of your body?” I ask quizzically.
He throws back his head and laughs.
I take another liberal sip of margarita to hide my embarrassment. At this rate I’m not going to remember the events of tonight. Probably for the best.
“No,” he says, once he catches his breath. “Shots as in alcohol shots, not photos.”
“I don’t follow.”
“You take shots from someone else’s body,” he says matter-of-factly. “Body shots.”
Oh. Oh. Now I get it.
“It’s virus world galore right now,” I say. “Where on earth are we going to do body shots?”
His eyes are hooded. “We don’t have to do it in a bar.”
Younger me would’ve never said yes to this. I take another swig of margarita. It’s become a nervous tic at this point. Fuck it. What do I have to lose at thirty-four?
“Your place or mine?” It’s a line straight out of a cheesy teenage flick. I wonder if I’m experiencing delayed puberty.
He grins. “You choose.”
I don’t want him to know where I live but I also don’t know if he has ropes, duct tape and an axe hidden in his basement. Yep, definitely too much True Crime during lockdown. Still, better safe than sorry.
“Shall we go all out and book a hotel?”
© lisiagho 2023-08-31