Page 44 of Summer with My Sexy Ex
The mime lunges forward to do the same on her other side.
“What the fuck, dude?” I know he’s still playing his bit. But I’m done.
It takes Bristol a second to catch up mentally. She smiles when she sees me. I can’t help but smile back. One, because her smiles are contagious. Two, because she’s cute as fuck when she’s stoned. Three, because I’ve got hands on her again and she’s safe.
The mime makes a show of frowning at our smiles and points at me exaggeratedly, jumping in place. Laughs sprinkle through the crowd.
Fuck’s sake.
He motions for me to follow him to a small area in front of the band. For some reason, I do. Keeping a tight hold of Brie’s hand as I go. The song ends, but they don’t play a new one. Everyone, including them, seems to be waiting to see what will happen with the mime. Phones are out and recording, the people are ready for a show.
The mime taps his temple like he’s had an idea. He motions something like an air guitar to the singer, then turns back toward me and busts out some old-school 80’s dance moves.
He stops in a pose then points to me.
Oh fuck no. I shake my head.
He does an arm-to-shoulder wave, spins on the balls of his feet, stops, and points to me. Again.
“Dance off?” I ask. The drummer plays a roll.
He nods and points to Bristol.
“You want a dance-off with me for my girl?” I like how it feels when I call Bristol my girl.
He nods, more enthusiastically this time. The bassist makes awow-wowsound with his guitar. The crowd laughs, fucking eating it up.
“Am I understanding right?” the singer says. “Are we having a dance-off for the affections of the young lady?”
The mime nods enthusiastically again. The bassist makes the sound again. I can’t tell whether I want to laugh or punch someone.
“Okay,” I concede. “I’ll do it.”
Anticipatory murmurs roll through the crowd. The mime intimates that I’m a sucker for agreeing.
I hold up my hand. “But it’s going to be a pole dance.” Because if I’m going to waste my time like this, even though I’m hoping to impress Bristol, it’s still going to knock an item off our list.
The mime makes like he’s embarrassed and modest.
“No stripping. Just dancing,” I confirm.
He nods, then motions that there’s no pole. I walk over to the no parking sign near the curb and give it a slap. The mime pretends to be impressed. At least, I think that’s what he’s doing. Then he holds up a finger and points to himself like he’s going to go first.
“Go for it,” I say.
He turns to the band, waving his arms like an orchestra conductor, then pumps his hips like he’s humping air.
The bassist plays the opening riff forGive It To Me Babyby Rick James. The mime looks to the crowd in question but doesn’t get much in return. He turns back to the bassist and shakes his head. This time they start to playYou Sexy Thingby Hot Chocolate. The crowd gets a little excited, but the mime shakes his head again.
Song number three isLet’s Get It Onby Marvin Gaye; cheers roll through the growing crowd. The mime nods, struts to the pole, and grinds on it. He’s got some moves, I’ll give him that, but he’s not using the pole to his advantage. He mostly dances next to or with a hand on it while he spins around.
Still, Bristol is clapping and whistling along with the other people who have stopped to watch.
“You’ve got your work cut out for you, Wyatt,” she says. “He’s not bad.”
Not bad, my ass. He sucks.
As his song ends, I head to the singer and tell him my choice.
