Pulling the Trigger

"You're right. That's why I love these people. They don't judge like the rest of the world. There may come a day when I am happy enough with myself to shed these sartorial shackles and be free as you are—god, I hope that day is soon—but until then, I'll wear my dress."

At this point, I heard my name called for the dart tournament. As it turns out, there's more to a game of darts than throwing bulls-eyes, which I didn't know. My time playing darts was spent with my thirty something partner, Sean, showing me the finer points (pun maybe intended) of where to throw and when. I tried to keep up, but without Sean's instruction, I would have been lost. We managed to win a round before getting beaten twice in a row. Newbie's luck can only take me so far.

I looked down at my watch and noted how late it had gotten. It was now past eleven at night, which surprised me. I'd been up since four in the afternoon of the previous day, but I still felt great. Perhaps that was the head rush of finally making some new friends outside of my cohorts from work, the rush of trying something new, or the rush of being naked in front of a bunch of people I didn't know and being completely accepted. Whatever it was, I decided now was as good a time as any to leave, before I got to the point where I was so drowsy it would be unsafe. Suddenly, I laughed at myself as I stared at my watch.

"What's funny, John?" Martina asked me, as one of her dark eyebrows hiked up.

"I always wear a watch. Always, without fail, I sleep, shower, and live wearing one. I feel naked without it, like there's a huge part of me missing. It makes my left wrist feel too light without one on. But here I am, naked, still wearing this last piece of clothing I can't give up. It's partly funny because I feel so normal now, but without it, I'd truly feel naked, and the fact that we're all slaves to time. We get so tied up over what time it is and what event we're about to be late to that we forget that our time is a finite resource. Sooner or later, our hourglass will run out of sand, and it's hammered down to the table. I've scarcely looked at my watch since I've been here, and good God, has it been joyous. This place, for a day, is the ultimate pressure release valve. Time doesn't really matter, clothes don't matter, just sit back, crack a beer or three, lose any clothes you don't want to wear anymore, and just chill.

"Pardon my ramblings, I get exceptionally verbose the more exhausted I am, and I have been up for..." I checked my watch again and did some math, "About thirty one hours straight. So, with that being said, I think it's time for me to make my way to the exit and get some good sleep."

"Sounds like a plan. Everything you said was right on the head, though. That's why I love this place. Drive safely, I hope to see you again." She met my gaze when she spoke, like everyone here did, and I could tell she meant what she said. I slung my backpack over my shoulder, tossed my University of Oklahoma beach towel around my neck, and stepped out into the night. Frogs croaked and owls hooted in the distance, serenading me on my walk back to my car. I reluctantly got dressed, got in my car, and drove off. I would be back, soon.