The Vaudeville Cowgirl

I’d recently scored a new high paying job so I was in a fairly jovial mood and, of course, a jovial mood = celebratory beers.

There was this girl I’d run into in a fairly random situation once before. I’d seen her picture on an online dating site and talked to her a bit.. then, while on a tram ride to a then-girlfriends house I saw her sitting there. In a toga.

Yes. A fucking toga.

She was smasht with a friend, laughing her ass off.. but the smile on her face was unmistakable. So, in the least creepy way possible (and hey, we’re talking about the guy who bought a hoodie before, so this was childs play) – I walked up and said “Hi, I’m THAT GUY.”

Much to my surprise they didn’t run off screaming (as is the usual reaction when I approach women in public.. NOTE TO SELF: stop groping women in public) and after a not-so-awkward conversation we parted ways.

Fast forward 2 months, I’m single. We talk on MSN and I get invited to a gig for The Vaudeville Smash at the Evelyn.

So off the back of my celebratory high paying job beers (read: I’m already hammered) I go to the Evelyn to meet this chick I’d only ran into once before for 3 minutes. I pay my cover and on the way in the bouncer says “hey, look after yourself man..” – Like every drunk person, I thought I’d done a fairly good job of hiding my shame.

I was wrong.

So I roll in. I’m sporting a soft Italian leather jacket over a black Bonds hoodie and raglan. Some messed up Levi blue denim – straight leg – with black Dunlop volleys. Not to mention to a drunk “I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me hard” attitude.

I’m at the bar ordering a Coopers Green, juggling my drunk logic.. “I have X amount of $, if I buy bottled beer I’ll drink it slower, and have a better night.. and only spend the money I already have in my wallet, I’m a genius!!”

At the bar next to me, there are 2 girls. I think one of them is my girl, but I wasn’t sure at the time, so I get my beer and say, “oh, hey!”

She has her hair tied back, a red cowgirl hat on her back, red/white flannel shirt, tight jeans and red leather boots. Not to mention a sheriff’s badge and a bubbly persona. The Vaudeville Smash have a song that mentions a Cowgirl – and a Toga – ..Apparently.

Her friend isn’t really my type but reminds me of an ex. We all sit down and well, I realize now, I proceed to flirt with her friend like fucking crazy.

Don’t get me wrong, that was not my intention. I was simply working my mojo in the group and before I knew it, she thought I was into her. The fact I was wearing her sparkly scarf and dancing with her probably didn’t help. The worst thing was, these people (apart from my girl) didn’t know I had the yellow plague.. and her friend was white, so, y’know, fuck that shit (or not, as it were.)

Did I mention my cute cowgirl was asian? Oh no, I didn’t. Well, let’s talk about her. She’s short. Viet (but not Viet Cong, according to all of the intelligence reports I’ve Googled on Da Nang) and has a great innocent energy.. basically the kind of person you want to be around.

So, moving on, I’m in the group (or I drunkenly think I am at this point) and we’re watching bands and doing all the usual shit.

There’s lots of physical contact via close couch sitting with her and her friend, but I have my eye on her. Cowgirl turns and faces me and says “I like white boys” – apparently this is common knowledge among her friends.. just like my friends know I’m all about the eastern flavva. It’s at this point I know it’s on like Donkey Kong – why? Because I’m white, handsome, and have something approaching charm (even when supremely drunk.. apparently. Older women have told me I’m a cute drunk, which is a compliment I’ll never forget.)

Cowgirl was sucking on a chuppa chup.. which I stole and gave back to her after a while. This crossed the spit swapping line, though not as much as I’d haved liked. The Vaudeville Smash finally come on and well, they aren’t bad. They had a saxamaphone, a vocoder and inspired some rollicking times. Much fun is had. I think. Because for the middle of the gig, I was doing this:

So, cash in hand (so much for that drunk logic plan) I roll back in.

“You’re back!” she said, when I, well, came back. She is dancing, her cowgirl hat bouncing up and down and all I can think about is pulling her body close so she bounces up and down against me.

I regain my (alleged) composure and enjoy the rest of the gig. After it’s over they start playing hand picked hits from the 80′s and 90′s. The DJ is cutting the songs 3 minutes in to cater for Gen Y’s short attention span and I’m not complaining. There’s a lot of singing of lyrics and random conversation.. then I’m face to face with cowgirl and I very randomly pull out:

“So you want to make out with me infront of the womens toilets hey?”

“What?!”

“I’m pretty sure thats what you’re telling me here” I said with a smile. She hadn’t said anything off the sort, but I’d been hanging with them for 4 hours and the only person I’d made a move on was her friend, apparently, who I didn’t even have any interest in.

Her smile is wide, her eyes cheeky and infectious as she says “ok.”

“Ok, you go first.. I’ll meet you there in 30 seconds so it doesn’t look suss.”

She leaves, and I talk to her friends about something random and excuse myself.

Then, I experienced one of the favorite moments in my life..

I walk up and she is facing the toilet door. Her hand raises like she was going to open it to walk in, then it lowers awkwardly, as if she thought someone was thinking “why is that girl standing there, are the toilets all occupied?”

I can tell this doesn’t happen that often with her.. kissing boys in front of toilets (and hey, lets be honest. I don’t kiss a lot of boys infront of the womens toilets either.) She doesn’t see it as her back is turned, but just like Frank’n'Furter would say, I begin to quiver with antici… pation. I felt like a fat bastard walking up to a freshly cooked & steaming all you can eat buffet, completely ready to fill an emotional void.

I gently grab her from behind then push her up against the wall, kissing her softly. My hands slowly loosen at her sides as I press up against her and I begin gently rubbing my lips against hers. I pull back slowly, parting mouths ever so slightly while I inhale her breath. I often do this with women as I love the warmth and taste of the moment.. it confuses some girls because they dont know what to do, but she does.

I kiss her again and things get more intense. I know this has to finish before she begins to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed (sometimes I spend too much time putting myself in the womans head) and I don’t want to risk tainting this memory in her mind, so I slowly pull away, letting go of tight grip I had on the hair on the back of her head.

We rejoin the group and after some more drinks and dancing to music from over a decade ago.. we end up making out before she gets on the Night Rider back to her suburb. For once, I didn’t invite a girl back to my place and it’s a good thing I didn’t because, little did I know, cowgirl had a card in her wallet. A card that said V.

But for how long?