Tuesday Night Music Club

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All she wants to do is have some fun.
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rjordan
rjordan
111 Followers

She squinted at the sign across the alley from the car wash where her vintage Datsun was being detailed. Tuesday Night Music Club. She hadn't heard live music in years. She couldn't even get her husband to take her dancing. Maybe I could just wait there instead of out here, she thought.

She took a seat at the bar, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark.

The bar smelled of late afternoon, spilled beer and tobacco smoke. A middle class neighborhood hangout. The bartender was cutting lime wedges.

"Another fun day at the car wash."

"Excuse me?" she said looking at the man in a dull grey suit sitting a few stools away.

"Nothing, just making conversation. I saw you pull up in that little Datsun 240Z. Persimmon, right? You don't see them much anymore," he smiled.

"My husband gave it to me as a birthday present."

"Nice...Oh sorry...I'm Mac. Actually William, but I go by Mac."

"I'm Sharon...Mac...Why do you go by Mac?"

"It was on the uniform they gave me to wear on my first job. The name stuck. We both seem to be hanging onto a better past."

Mac was in some ways plain ugly, thought Sharon, but ruggedly masculine. Big hands with thick fingers. As he talked he peeled the label from his beer. Annoying habit, she thought. But he had a confident manner, looked her right in the eye when he talked to her, and had a rumbling, easy laugh that caused her to melt in places ugly men didn't usually reach. She rebuked herself for being so shallow, and admitted she was not exactly a beauty queen, though she took good care of what she had. And so, she realized, did Mac.

A large, darkly tinted window looked out on the alley. She watched the car owners, dressed smartly in their business attire, walk out when called carrying their laptops and briefcases. They tipped the attendant, then climbed into their sparkling cars bound for somewhere useful, interesting, important or maybe just fun.

She was married to one of those people, but not part of that life. Home alone most of the time, bored silly. Maybe just once, I could be driving off to do something interesting or fun, she thought. Her reverie was broken when she saw her own pride and joy emerge from the car wash.

"Well, there's my car. Nice to meet you, Mac."

"Oh, hell. I was just enjoying our conversation. Wait a second."

He pulled out his cell phone and made a call.

"Manny, that 240Z you just finished detailing belongs to a friend. Take special care with it and park it by your office when it's done."

She looked at him, eyebrows raised

"Yes, I come here often," he smiles. "Please stay."

"OK, one more drink then I gotta go."

"Bobby! Another Bud and a Miller Lite for the lady."

He looked at her. "You don't smile much."

"I don't think that's any concern..."

"I wasn't being critical or anything, just...well, you look like someone who should be having fun, and maybe you're not."

"You don't seem to be the life of the party yourself...Mac."

He laughed. It was like an embrace. It warmed her and gave her goosebumps simultaneously, starting as a flush in her face and melting her...jesus, she thought, I think I'm getting a little damp.

"Maybe we should do something about it," Mac offered.

"I don't think so. I'm married and you could be a...anything."

"I could be, but I'm not. I am a pretty good dancer, though. My mom made me learn years ago. You like to dance? We could meet here later, separate cars, no strings, just an evening of fun before we go back to our exciting lives."

"I don't think so, Mac."

"Another beer, then?"

"No thanks...I better get going." She got up from the bar and headed out the door.

When she got to her car, she called her husband. She didn't know exactly why. He was traveling and they hardly ever checked in with one another even when he was in the office. The phone rang, then eventually went to voice mail. She didn't leave a message.

She looked back towards the Club to see a couple entering. God, they look so happy. Why can't things just stay that way, she thought. She locked her car and went back into the Club.

"So what time does the live music start?" she asked Mac.

"About 8..."

She turned on her heels and walked back out the door.

"Sonofabitch..." exclaimed Mac to nobody in particular.

Mac was seated at the bar just after 8 pm when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Come here often?" Sharon asked with a smirk.

He stood to greet her and to take in her beauty. "Yes, I do, but nothing like this has ever happened here before."

They found a booth near the dance floor and ordered drinks. The juke box was still playing, but the band was beginning to set up. They made small talk, and with the band's first number of the evening, Mac asked Sharon to dance.

He was a graceful innovative dancer. His mom taught him well, she laughed to herself. But she felt like a child in his arms, especially with her small hand in his huge paw. Despite the size difference, they fit together, though not too close, and moved together effortlessly. No groping, no hard-on waggling on her leg. Friends out for an evening just like he promised.

They danced nearly every number, sitting out the juke box music between the band's sets. Between dancing and his non-stop conversation, the night went quickly. She couldn't remember every laughing so much. She couldn't even remember smiling as much.

"Let's do something a little crazy tomorrow," Mac offered at one break in the music.

"What? I haven't done 'crazy' since before I was married."

"I don't know. Maybe a road trip. Road trips are always fun."

They talked about all the places they could go, but Sharon realized she was getting a little too drunk to follow along and excused herself to the restroom. When she got back there was a fresh drink for her. Ginger ale with a twist. And more dancing. By the end of the evening, she was mostly sober, but exhausted. Mac walked her to her car, wanted assurances that she was OK to drive, and said goodnight.

The next morning, Mac called in sick to work, then called Sharon at 8. Shit, she thought, when did I give him my number. WHY did I give him my number? By the time she had arrived home, the road trip wasn't looking like such a good idea any more.

"Hi, sleepy head. Just a wake up call. I'll be there at 9."

"Oh, hey, uhh, Mac..."

"A day of fun, remember, Sharon. No strings. Just friends visiting the zoo and stuff."

"OK, sorry...I'm just..."

"I know...married. It's OK. If I was going to make a move, it would have been last night when you had had several mood enhancing refreshments and were spellbound by my magic feet. Besides, I don't really have any moves, Sharon. I'm just me, all the time." He laughed and that was enough.

"See you at 9," and she gave him directions to her house."

When she heard the single short tap on the horn, her pulse quickened. She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

"Where to?" he asked.

"Well, we never got that far in our planning, did we? Uhh...you mentioned the zoo on the phone. How about San Diego?"

"Sounds good," Mac gave her an appreciative glance, put the car in gear and headed out.

They talked casually during the 90 minute drive to San Diego. The talk of two acquaintances, not the talk of two people on a date. But she found herself picking topics and words that would elicit that incredible laugh, and flushed from head to toe when she was successful.

As they enjoyed the zoo, Sharon enjoyed Mac's company more and more. Usually reticent about sharing personal information, she began to volunteer information that Mac was too polite to ask about. During a late lunch she surprised herself by talking about her husband.

She met Jack when she was working as a dental assistant and he was a handsome new patient. They dated and she was smitten. Eventually they married. Going nowhere in business, Jack decided to go to law school. Between their meager savings and her job, he managed to get through school and get a job with a local law firm. But they were soon back to a single income when Sharon's boss retired and the economy took a dump. Jack convinced her to stay home, enjoy herself for awhile, and take care of the house.

That was fun for a couple of months, then the isolation began to work on her. She missed the daily contact with people in the dental office. Missed the flirting and laughter. And she even missed Jack who as a new associate often traveled out of town to take depositions. Life seemed to be slipping away. She had worked most of her life and never really had any fun.

"Jeez, look at the time. We should be going."

"Do you have to get back tonight?"

She looked away with a lump in her throat, then felt strangely calm as she locked her eyes with his, "No, but you better take charge quick before I have time to think about it."

They left the restaurant and checked into a hotel on Mission Bay.

As soon as they entered the elevator, Sharon surrendered to Mac's strength, confidence and soothing words. Once in the room, he held her while she shook slightly from nerves. When she was calmer, he began to undress her. When she felt his big hands and thick fingers envelop her breasts she almost had an orgasm. Then she began to wonder if those thick fingers foretold the size of another appendage and she did have an orgasm.

When Sharon was completely naked, she unbuttoned Mac's shirt , undid his belt and pulled his pants down. She instinctively ran her hand over his bulge noting that his thickness extended everywhere important. She lay back on the bed and let Mac peel his underwear down for her. Oh my, she thought, I probably should have thought this through more when I saw his hands.

Mac made love like he danced; he was playful and inventive. He was sometimes funny to ease the sexual tension, but he never broke it. Jack was going to have a very hard act to follow when he got home.

They lay there in the afterglow of their first time.

"I never laughed during sex before."

"It can be a man's worst nightmare."

"It should never be yours. It was beautiful, Mac."

"Sex with Jack wasn't that great. Did you ever read the book, 'One Minute Manager'?"

"Yeah. In some forgettable marketing class in college."

"Jack took it to heart. It worked at the office, so he used it in the bedroom."

Mac laughed his glorious laugh. Not at Jack, but with Sharon's telling of it. Mac didn't laugh at other people.

When they awoke the next morning, Sharon had no recriminations. Except for having no toothbrush, and no change of clothes. Mac called the desk for two toothbrushes. After a leisurely shower together, they put themselves back together as best they could.

"You know, Mac...if I had some clean underwear...we could stay another night."

They spent the morning shopping at the attached mall on her husband Jack's credit card. Fruit of the Loom and a new shirt for Mac. Victoria's Secret and a sundress for her. And shoes. And a small matching purse. And a couple of costume bracelets—what the hell.

Sharon was starting to have fun.

On the elevator ride back to the room, Sharon was suddenly all over Mac. She told him to stop the elevator and fuck her right there and then.

"OK," then Mac looked at a small glass eye in the elevator and said, "Could you guys shut this camera off for a little while so we can have some privacy?" Sharon's mortified expression brought on his laugh, and she joined him.

When they got to the room, it hadn't been made up yet, so they hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, fucking, talking, laughing, getting room service, and fucking some more.

Mac again called the desk, this time for fresh towels. After another shower together they went out for a nice dinner wearing their new clothes, all thanks to Jack.

When they returned to the hotel, they went immediately to the lounge and danced away the rest of the night. Too exhausted to do anything else, she slept the sleep of the dead, comfortable in Mac's arms.

Next morning her cell phone awoke her.

"Hello, Jack," Sharon answered with resignation in her voice. She had to talk to him sooner or later.

"Where are you? The house is a mess and dishes are piled in the sink. You know how that puts me off."

"I've been gone two days, Jack, and you call to find out why the house is a mess?"

"I just got back this morning on the Red Eye. You knew I was coming home today."

"Good for you, Jack. Wash the dishes while you're there." She hung up. When he called right back she threw the phone in the trash can.

"Most people just hang up," said Mac.

She laughed without humor. "My husband. Looking for the maid. I have to go home, Mac."

The ride back was quiet. A lot had changed in little more than 48 hours. And a lot more had yet to change when she got home. Sharon and Mac exchanged sympathetic smiles occasionally, but the mood had crashed and they didn't know how to get it back.

He pulled into her driveway. "I'll call you in a couple of days and make sure you're OK."

"I threw my phone away, remember?"

"Yeah, well, it's the only number I know for you, so...here," he said handing it to her and laughing a much more subdued laugh.

"Dear sweet Mac...thanks...for saving my life."

She dropped the shopping bag with her dirty clothes in the bedroom then plopped down dejectedly on the bed. She was still there when Jack got home that evening. He went ballistic when she told him, point blank, she wanted a divorce, but as soon as she said it, she knew that was exactly what she wanted. She packed some clean clothes and left for a nearby motel.

Sitting in the room alone, she picked up her phone to call Mac. "Dear, sweet Mac," she repeated. She couldn't dial the phone for her tears and just sat there holding it in her lap. Mac had saved her from a loveless marriage. But it made Mac part of her past. He was a link with her old life, not her future and she desperately needed a new beginning. She threw her cell phone in the trash, and wiped her eyes.

Roughly based on the lyric "All I Wanna Do" from the "Tuesday Night Music Club" album by Sheryl Crow 1993

rjordan
rjordan
111 Followers
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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Where was the story?..

.

ZERO

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

do like your husband - get a divorce - 1*

iameaseliameaselabout 3 years ago

Best this train wreck deserves is a ppfffhhhtt.

rjordanrjordanover 4 years agoAuthor
You're welcome

Good luck in therapy.

26thNC26thNCover 4 years ago
Your worst

Author's worst story. Whore should get th divorce before she cheats.

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