They lady manning the door handed us blank, white t-shirts to place over our actual shirts.
When he finally made a move and invited me to a paint party, I jumped at the chance.
I thought it was a cute first date idea.
Erik Mclean
Of course, I was wrong about everything.
When I met him at the address he sent me, he was standing outside a brick building.
Those look expensive, he said, looking from my designer jeans to my fuck-me heels.
I thought you knew to dress down.
I think Im going to be fine.
Im not that clumsy.
He shrugged, led me toward the doors, and paid our entrance fees.
They lady manning the door handed us blank, white t-shirts to place over our actual shirts.
The woman handed us squeeze bottles of paint next.
My guy got green.
When we stepped inside the main room, a DJ was blaring music.
Hundreds of twenty-somethings were spraying neon paint at each other.
My shoes were going to be ruined.
Go on, my date said.
He had to scream in order for me to hear him.
you’re free to be the first to deface me.
What an honor, I said, wanting to play the part ofcool girl.
I stopped worrying about my clothes.
I went with the flow.
I popped open my paint container and tried to draw a heart near his collar.
The paint dripped down his chest, like it was melting.
When I finished, he spun me around and drew a picture on my back.
I couldnt tell what it was.
I was enjoying the feel of his hand as it cupped my shoulder, steadying his canvas.
After getting a few drinks in our system, we really loosened up.
We danced, grinding our hips against each other.
We spurted paint on strangers.
We even kissed once or twice.
Do you want another drink?
he asked late in the night, brushing a strand of hair away from my cheek.
Butterflies danced in my stomach.
Let me just pee out my last one.
He laughed and made his way to the bar while I made my way to the bathroom.
I fixed my lipstick.
Ran my fingers through my hair.
Tried to look my best.
We were really clicking and I wanted it to stay that way.
God damn it, I muttered, not that it mattered much.
I was already covered in paint.
What difference did some alcohol make?
Dump the rest of it.
I took an Uberpool home so there wouldnt be room for him to join.
I was probably worried about nothing.
I had a good night.
He was a good guy.
Then I stripped off the shirt and saw what was drawn on the back in neon green.
I expected something cute, a heart or our initials, but that wasnt what he drew.
It was a frowny face.
With exes for eyes.
