Disquiet Teen

One of the girls silently motioned for him to stop.  The guy throwing darts quietly turned to tell him to be cool.  Even the bartender came by to shake his head.  But the teen had him laughing.

"Fill her up," the teen yelled.  "She's a quart low!"

Tom laughed and repeated the line to his friends, "I think she's a quart low!"

The beer tumbled out slowly, splashing and foaming against her white skin, dampening her thin shirt, darkening her jeans--her reaction was emphatic and immediate.  She exploded in tits, tears, and elbows - swinging and hitting people with all three on her way out as she ran out of the bar.  Her friends followed, glaring back at Thomas.

But it wasn't his idea, although he did think it was funny.  And the teen assured him she wouldn't get that mad over a little bit of beer.  The teen was wrong.  This is how Tom lost his girlfriend during a dart game.

But she shouldn't have gotten so mad over a little bit of beer, the teen said.  She was supposed to drive him home, and now she was gone.  But she shouldn't have been so upset.  She overreacted, the teen reasoned, and so what?  There would be no more darts?  There was always one more beer.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)