90s Girl

by Mia Archer

  Honestly. Smoking inside? What decade did that asshole think we were in?

  Though looking around at everyone it was tough not to think that I’d somehow done a jump to the left and a step to the right that sent me through some weird time warp, because everyone around me was in outfits straight out of the late ‘80s or the early ‘90s.

  Here’s a little fun fact I learned from my mom about high fashion from that time period. A lot of the stuff people think of as ‘80s fashion actually came around near the end of the decade of decadence when old Ronny was on the way out, and a good chunk of it comes from the early ‘90s. Think a lot of the bright pink and neon stuff.

  It looked like those years had vomited up all over the place, and in the background was the bass line of everyone’s favorite Queen and David Bowie duo being ripped off by a lesser rapper who later went on to renovate houses on reality TV.

  “Ice, Ice, Baby?” I said to no one in particular. “Why the hell would they be playing that?”

  Someone skated past me. A guy who had an honest-to-God bowl cut. Talk about dedication to ‘90s night. I’d heard all about that monstrosity of a cut, the lesser known crime against hairstyles from the early ‘90s that’d only been overshadowed because the mullet broke onto the scene at around the same time, but damn.

  “It’s the biggest song ever!” the guy said. “Seriously. What rock did you crawl out from under?”

  I laughed, and the guy didn’t look happy about it. He was nice and muscular. The kind of guy Felicity or Candace would go for if they could see him. I glanced out to the rink, but the place was so packed that I couldn’t see them through the press of bodies moving in an eternal circle.

  “You’re serious?” I said. “The thing is a ripoff of Under Pressure. Everyone knows that.”

  “No way,” the dude said. “Ice, Ice, Baby has an extra note in the bass line. The extra note in there makes it completely different.”

  The guy was an idiot. This was settled law. The guy got his pants sued off, and he lost after his lawyers made that same stupid argument. Or maybe he settled. I couldn't remember, and I couldn't get out my phone to check while this gorilla was manhandling me.

  I shook my head and tried to shoulder past the beefcake, but he put a hand on my arm and held me in place. Which was pretty easy considering I was on roller skates and I couldn’t move around all that well.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I asked, putting my hand on his and trying to pull him away.

  “You’ve got a little spirit!” he said, leering in a most unpleasant way. “I like that! What’s your name?”

  “My name is none of your damn business,” I said. “Now get the fuck off of me before I scream or call the cops or something.”

  The guy laughed and shook his head. “Okay sure. You go to the office and get them to let you use the phone because some guy thought you were hot enough to hit on. I’m sure they’ll put an APB out for that one.”

  I stared at this guy. I couldn’t believe I was running into a troglodyte like this. Sure I knew there were guys out there like this prick, but it was like he hadn’t noticed all the strides society had made in the last few decades that said this kind of crap was not okay.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Troglodyte turned at the sound of that voice, and I turned too. There was something about that voice that demanded attention. When I turned I found myself looking at the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on.

  I seriously wondered if I was looking at the daughter to that lady I’d seen at the skate rental earlier. They looked so much alike that it was eerie. That lady could’ve been old enough to have a daughter. Maybe. If she was really young and made some bad decisions in the heat of the moment that resulted in this girl.

  The girl was decked out in the same period attire as everyone else, but it looked good on her. She had on a tight fitting set of jean overalls that clung to her in all the right places despite jean overalls not exactly being the kind of thing you think of as clinging to a person.

  Under that she had on a hot pink T-shirt that was pretty tight, and she was rocking the look. She also had on a traditional pair of roller skates.

  Though now that I thought about it I didn't see anyone rocking in-line skates. Maybe that lady at the skate rental hadn't been lying when she said there were none available, though if they were out of the things in my size it stood to reason there’d be someone out there wearing the things.

  Whatever. I was more interested in staring at this girl. She was beautiful. Even if she did have her hair in a ponytail that went off to the side. It was kind of hot in a retro sort of way.

  Then again with the way everyone else looked in here tonight I was going to have to go for hot in a retro sort of way considering veryone was in a retro sort of way around here.

  “What the fuck do you want Jenny?” the guy asked with a sneer.

  “I want you to get your hands off of this girl first James,” she snapped.

  She glared at him. I wondered if he was actually going to follow her order. This girl seemed like the type who didn’t like being crossed, but he was big and muscly and seemed like the kind of asshole who’d stepped straight out of the celluloid of an old ‘80s movie.

  Finally he let go. I rubbed my arm where he’d been holding me. It was red, but I didn’t think it was going to leave a mark. Still, if that was the way he thought to make a good impression on a lady then he had another fucking thing coming.

  “Asshole,” I muttered.

  “What the fuck ever,” he said. “I’ll go find something better.”

  “Don’t you have something better you prick?” the girl, Jenny, asked. “I’m sure Amy’s going to wonder where the fuck you disappeared to.”

  A twinge ran through me at that. Not because of how she said it, but because of the name. Amy. That was my mom’s name, and any time I heard someone say it a little flutter that ran through me.

  It was weird, but there it was.

  “What the fuck ever,” he said. “You’d better not say anything to Amy if you know what’s good for you Jenny.”

  He pointed a finger at her like that was actually a legitimate threat. Jenny, for her part, didn’t seem all that worried about his threats. She rolled her eyes and made a little shooing motion that made it clear he was no longer wanted or needed here.

  “Fuck off,” Jenny said, then she turned back to me.

  She missed the rude gesture the guy made. My eyes narrowed. Seriously. This guy was like the asshole out of every ‘80s movie I’d ever seen. The kind of prick I thought could’t actually exist in real life because no one was that much of a walking cliche.

  “What the fuck is his problem?” I asked, more to myself than anything, but that didn’t stop Jenny from giving me an answer.

  “I hear he’s stuck with a terribly small penis and doesn’t know any way to compensate other than taking it out on the world.”

  I snorted. I couldn’t help myself. This girl was funny as well as hot. A combination I wouldn’t mind getting to know better.

  If she was into girls. Which, in my experience, she probably wasn’t. Every time I found a girl who was hot and I was into her it turned out she was hopelessly into the dick. More’s the pity, but oh well. I could enjoy looking at her and laughing at her jokes at least.

  “Come on,” she said. “You look like you could use some fun after talking with that prick.”

  So I followed her. I hadn’t even told her my name, but I followed her. This night was getting weirder and weirder.

  7

  Retro

  “So I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” Jenny said as we rolled towards the front.

  “It’s been years,” I said. “Like the last time I was in here was with my mom, and that was for a skating party the school put on.”

  “Oh really?” she asked. “Those were always my favorite. What school did you go to?”

  “Hamilton Elementary,”
I said.

  “Really?” she said, looking just a touch confused. “I went to Hamilton, but I don’t remember having you in any of my classes.”

  Huh, that was weird, but the school was pretty big after they did the renovations about a decade before I went there so it was possible for someone to go there and not know everyone else who went there.

  “Weird,” I said. “But there are a few classes there, right? Maybe we were just in different rooms.”

  “Different rooms?” she asked. “But there was just the one. It’d be impossible.”

  “Right,” I said with a laugh. “Maybe in the old days before the renovation.”

  The girl gave me another weird look, but didn’t say anything more. Though she was looking at me like I was Darth Vader come down from the planet Vulcan or something. Weird.

  “So what high school do you go to?” she asked.

  “Central Consolidated,” I said. “Over on the other side of town.”

  “You mean Central?” she asked. “That’s not far from here.”

  “I mean I guess it’s not far if you drive fast enough and you hit the lights just right,” I said. “Wasn't the old building around here though?”

  “Right,” she said. “So what do you want to do? We could skate, hit the arcade, there’s all sorts of awesome around here.”

  She leaned in close as she said it. Close enough that it had me shivering. That was the kind of close contact that made me think she might be interested in a little more than being friendly, but it was also the kind of leaning in close that had me thinking I was doing some wishful thinking.

  I’d had more than a few girls act like they were interested. Right up to the point I’d made a move and oops, it turns out I’d been mistaking friendly chatting for flirting.

  The perils of being a gay kid in this day and age. At least it was easier now with phones and everything than it would’ve been back in the day when fewer people were out and there weren't apps to find similarly minded folks.

  I looked around the place. The thought of going back out on the skating rink after the disaster that’d befallen me earlier didn't excite me. The arcade was an interesting possibility, it looked like some of the machines had been opened up while I was in that dance studio, but more than anything there was a little rumbly in my tumbly that needed to be taken care of.

  It’d been awhile since the delicious pizza aunt Olivia made.

  “Actually I could really go for a snack,” I said. “What would you say to getting something deep fried that’s bad for us?”

  “Of course,” she said, smiling. “That’s why I spend so much time skating. It’s a great workout!”

  I was treated to an excellent view of her backside as we made our way over to the concession stand. I was inclined to agree with her that skating was an excellent workout. I had the proof right in front of me in the way she filled out those retro jean overalls, after all.

  She was also a lot better at skating than I was. Like she seemed like a pro at it compared to my fumbling. She stopped a couple of times to wait for me to catch up, and finally she took my hand.

  “Here, let me help you with this,” she said, putting her hand on my waist and sending a shiver running through me. “It’s all a matter of getting down the rhythm. Put one foot in front of the other and let yourself glide.”

  I tried to concentrate on skating, but it was difficult with her hand on my side. That was seriously distracting. To the point that I found myself nearly pitching forward.

  Only there she was again with her hands on my front this time providing some balance and keeping me from flattening my nose against the thin carpet in the arcade.

  Finally, with some trial and error, we made it to the concession stand. Part of that trial and error was because I wasn’t all that good at skating, but I’ll be honest. Some of that was simply that I enjoyed her hands on method of teaching.

  Sure she was probably straight, but who the hell was I kidding? Having her hands all over me felt good, and I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have her toucha-toucha-touch me, if you catch my meaning.

  The place smelled delicious. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was hungry, or if it was just that there was something about the deep fried goodness of a place that hawked the kind of unhealthy shit I shouldn't be eating.

  Whatever it was, my mouth was watering by the time we got up to the front. Though getting to the front of the line didn’t instill me with a lot of confidence as I noticed that a lot of the labels and logos on the candy were old. Like really old.

  Like the place hadn’t been doing enough business in recent years, and so they had stuff sitting on the shelf well past the expiration date. Though there were plenty of people ordering the candy.

  Weird. Maybe they had a backlog of the stuff. Whatever. They were going to have to cook whatever I ate, and presumably that would kill anything microscopic and nasty that might’ve taken up residence in that food if it was expired.

  Besides, I was just that hungry. Eating stuff that was questionably sourced was part of the appeal of grease slingers like this concession stand. It was part of the charm.

  “I’ll have a tenderloin and some fries,” I said.

  The guy behind the counter, a bored looking dude who had an acne problem and wore a white shirt and one of those caps you’d expect to see on someone slinging burgers in a diner out of the ‘50s, looked supremely bored as he hit some buttons on the cash register. We're talking actual physical buttons and not a touch screen or a tablet with a credit card reader attached to the headphone jack.

  “That’ll be a buck fifty,” he said.

  I blinked. Looked up at the prices. Weird. I knew this place had the whole retro thing going for it, but I wouldn’t have figured that extended to the prices. The food here presumably came from a modern food distributor with modern prices, after all.

  Maybe they were able to sell stuff for so cheap because they were selling old stuff with a questionable expiration date.

  I whipped out my debit card and held it up when I didn’t see a reader on the counter. The dude stared at it, blinked once as though the gears were turning slowly in his head, then looked at me.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “Debit card?” I helpfully said, sensing this guy wasn’t the brightest bulb.

  “We don’t take credit card,” he said. “Cash only.”

  “Are you kidding?” I asked. “What kind of business doesn’t take card in this day and age? Seriously. Like get an iPad or something and hook it up. It’s not that hard!”

  “A what?” he asked. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but if you’re going to pay you have to pay cash. I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing with a credit card, but I wouldn’t take that even if I could. Don’t need your stolen shit.”

  “This isn’t stolen,” I said. “This is my name on the front, and it matches my ID and everything!”

  “Cash please, or get out of the line.”

  “I’ve got this,” Jenny said, swooping in and once again being my knight in shining armor.

  She held out some cash. The guy looked at, then looked at Jenny.

  “So this is how it’s gonna be?” he asked.

  “Listen Harold,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve told you we’re never happening, so maybe don’t take it out on the nice girl here and give her the food she’s asking for? I’m giving you the money.”

  “Whatever,” the guy muttered under his breath. “You’ll change your mind with a good dicking.”

  “What the fuck did you just say?” I said, not quite believing that this neanderthal would say something like that.

  I was no stranger to that kind of treatment, unfortunately. There were all sorts of hopeless dudes out there who labored under the crazy illusion that all a lesbian needed was their penis to see the light, and for some reason it was always some overweight dude with scraggly pubes on his waddle wearing a My Little Pony t-shirt who was doing the offering.<
br />
  Also? I was totally trying not to freak out on the inside that this guy had just more or less confirmed that Jenny was, in fact, totally into the ladies.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” the guy said, turning around and handing me some fries that looked pretty soggy and sad.

  “My problem is you acting like all she needs is your magic dick and she’s going to decide she’s into you,” I said. “The girl made it clear she’s not, so why don’t you give it up already?”

  The guy rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re another one of them?”

  Okay. I was seriously having trouble believing this was actually happening. That I was actually finding myself talking to a knuckle dragger who thought it was cool to talk to people like that.

  I really did feel like I’d been transported back in time to one of those ‘80s movies my mom was always watching when I was growing up.

  “Y’know what?” I said, anger getting the better of me. “You can’t talk to people like that.”

  “Or what?” he asked, handing over a soda in a cup that looked like it was a couple of decades out of date.

  Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done what I did next. Only I was really pissed off. Maybe it was that I’d led a sheltered life and didn’t realize there really were people like this out there. Aunt Olivia had always been pretty good about affirming me, but I’d heard horror stories.

  Now, though, I was good and pissed off.

  So I chucked the soda right back at him. The thing exploded against his cheesy hot turquoise polo shirt and ran down his front. The guy looked down in disbelief, like he was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that what’d just happened had actually just happened.

  So pretty much what I’d just been doing.

  Before he could get too mad about it Jenny was pulling me away from the counter and we disappeared into the crowd. The yelling started very shortly after that, but by then we weren’t around to deal with the consequences of my admittedly boneheaded move.