I pouted a bit at the idea of going to Wanchai. Our nights out clubbing had always revolved around the hills of LKF. The China Bar was my home away from home. The other bars in the area could be mediocre at times, but if your come with the urge to dance and enough alcohol in your system, you'd most likely have a good time. But this time it was Wanchai. I'd never actually been but I'd heard a few people rave about it before. They always talked about how it was more of a place where you stand around and talk outside of the bars, which made me instantly hate the idea of ever going. Flashbacks of dance-less frat parties flooded my memories. I didn't want to just stand around and drink! I'm African! Get me my music so I can groove! Still, everyone else was feeling Wanchai, so after about an hour of pregaming we scampered off to get our drink on in what was, in my mind, the more boring, British part of Hong Kong. I was already four drinks in: a mini bottle of wine that had me wobbling before I even finished it, a pineapple vodka, and two citrus Smirnoff Ices. I'd left the third one in my dorm because downing five drinks before going off to get free drinks on ladies' night seemed excessive. Sarah, Annalise, Miranda and I ran into Morgan and her blonde sorority friends on the MTR. We got to Wanchai, and after a brief search for bathrooms and food we made it for the last 45 minutes of ladies' night. The bartenders were hard to flag down. We had to move around their closed little circular bar to keep up with them, and even then, the dudes would walk right by us. We finally got our hands on some vodka and Sprite, and it actually tasted pretty good. For someone who'd only started drinking a few months ago, I sure got used to the taste of alcohol pretty quickly. Morgan and her group had gone somewhere else and I think Sarah went off with them, so it was just Annalise, Miranda, and me. The place felt like the interior of a sardine can, but on the bright side, a surprising amount of people were dancing rather than simply standing around. A guy's butt kept pressing on mine and I swayed in sync with him because good Lord, sobriety had left me hours ago.
Suddenly, out of the blue, Ginny came up next to me from the right and struck up a conversation. We hadn't even looked at each other, but for whatever reason this woman decided she wanted to talk to me. I also met her friend, Tina, a blonde Hong Kong native. We hastily added each other on Facebook. Remembering my manners, I quickly pulled Annalise and Miranda into the conversation and introduced the two groups. Ginny had made it her mission to get me another drink, and only greeted them with cheerful half-halfheartedness as she leaned over the bar. Even after handing me a screwdriver, Ginny hardly paid my friends or even Tina any attention. The three of them moved away and started their own conversation. So the two of us talked alone for a bit. She was a 27 year old teacher. A whole seven years older than me, but I never would have guessed. I let out a powerful laugh of disbelief that left me leaning into her space. I felt kind of afraid I was getting too close, but she mirrored my movements and leaned in quite a bit herself. Maybe I'd drank too much to be coherent, but I was sure my heart had skipped a beat. I noticed she hadn't really talked to anyone else since we met. If she were a man, I would be completely sure of what was going on, but since I'd never done more than crush on straight girls, I wasn't so sure. I ignored the idea and asked her more about herself. She told me a bit more about her life and her friends. Tina "worked in Wanchai." Ginny also had another friend named Jim, a tall medium light-skinned black man wearing thick, black rimmed glasses. His mid-sized afro had spirals of grey mixed in, but the man looked like he could easily pass for 35. He stood calmly in the pulsating crowd, holding his drink and raising it to greet me when we were introduced.
After some more talking I finally asked Ginny if she was into women at all. The look she gave me made it seem more like I just told her that her dog died than anything. A few seconds of me asking what was wrong and wondering if I should apologize later, she got close, so close, and told me she was, but her friend Tina was homophobic, so she kept it a secret. I told her that sucked, because I wanted her emso/em badly. She looked shocked. Did I want Jim to join in too? Apparently, the women she'd been with before were more comfortable when a man was in the mix. I shook my head, insisting once again that I was only interested in her. It surprised me how easily the words left me. Sure, that night I'd drank more than I ever had in my entire life, but something about it all felt so natural. A surge of some sort of energy radiated through my body as the excitement of the moment continued to grow. She looked around warily, trying to find Tina's position in the crowd. Our bodies pressed together as we leaned against the bar and I fought to keep myself from touching her anywhere at all, but our drunk selves couldn't comprehend how obvious we were being. It felt great. Normally with men I'd let them approach me, but there's something exhilarating about taking the reins yourself. About being the one to compliment a woman and letting her know how much you need to be with her. Watching the expressions on her face while you compliment her and let her know how beautiful she is to you and everyone else in that room. The tension between us continued to build, and internally, I couldn't believe any of it was really happening.
Ginny grabbed my hand and led me out of the bar. We'd have to stay close. Her phone had died and she didn't want her friends to think she'd gone and leave without her.