Chapter 14: A Night at the Nightclub

One fine Saturday evening the two buddies were both ready and willing to hunt. Max set Jack loose and the noble beast threw himself slope down, where he would prowl around the cottages until he found a nice bitch to copulate with. The not so noble Max, on his part, was brooding quite the same plan for himself. Unlike the dog, he would need to spruce up a little, though, he grudgingly realized as he stroked his scruffy beard and balanced on a chair at the verandah. And also unlike Jack, he would not get himself a female while running freely; he needed a suitable place, and that place would have to be the large nightclub where all the young (and not so young) single people of the village and the neighbouring area used to gather on Saturday nights in order to pull somebody. So, without giving it more thought, he got into the house and did spruce up. Half an hour later, showered, saved, properly groomed and dressed, he almost resembled the neat man he used to be. The tickling in his stomach almost reminded him of what he used to feel like when he was twenty years younger.

Creo que empieso a entender
Que nos deseábamos desde antes de naser
Tengo el presentimiento de que empiesa la aksión
Y las mujeres somos las de la intuisión
The music wrapped the overwhelming jungle of young (and not so young) people, voices and smoke that welcomed Max as he got off his car and entered the nightclub. Most of the customers were looking for a sexual encounter, most of them were drunk and not few were high on some drug or another. It was all perfectly pathetic, he thought, deliciously tacky. Local guys clumsily fought visitors from the other village on the charge of 'coming to take our women from us' or for supporting the wrong football club. Local women proudly wielded their weapons --generous cleavages, short skirts, naked shoulders, glossy lips. Among that tide of young (and not so young) people Max just had to skulk confidently with a glass of whiskey in his right hand waiting for his prey to show up. First he noticed a beautiful slim brunette in her late twenties who seemd to be somehow above all the surrounding mob. Whereas a lot of blokes were staring at her and actually drooling for her, she ignored them all. Max approached her calmly, stood right in front of her and said 'hi'. The girl turned away after giving him a short disparaging glance. Some whiskeys later, a stout middle-aged woman approached him while he was leaning on a crowded counter, standing with his back to the bar.
'You alone, love?' she asked in an harsh unpleasant voice.
Finding her utterly repulsive, he made a desperate attempt to make his flooded brain cells contrive a diplomatic flight. Discarding the possibility of a silly excuse --for it was two in the morning and he was there by himself obviously waiting for something to happen, he suddenly found the key to get away from the awkard situation:
'Oh, there she is. Please excuse me. She must have been looking for me for ages.'
Some five or six metres away, on the dance floor, he had spotted a little redhead who was pretending to have fun with his two ladyfriends while innerly longing for a man. Neither too young nor too old, neither too pretty nor unattractive, definitely horny, Max estimated. He did not hesitate a moment to use his hands to open his way up to her among the crowd of young (and not so young) people. He introduced himself to her recalling his abandoned sophisticated manners, and that was the beginning of some hours of fun for both of them.

Naturally, Max and his new friend Clara saw the Sunday morning from Max's bed. Which was exactly what he wanted, except for a little detail that made him turn pale and curse the already middle-aged day.

(To be continued, I'm afraid.)