Punk Disco Bohemian by Arya F. Jenkins

Author:Arya F. Jenkins [Jenkins, Arya F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, coming of age, Provincetown, 1970s, historical, memoir, multicultural, jazz, disco, women, queer, lesfic
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2021-08-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

One Saturday night, shortly before New Orleans, Maggie and I ran into one of her exes in the Back Room. Tall, lean Jess with jet curly hair danced with his hips like a female, but his glance fell with equal ease on men and women. One of the owners had ordered champagne on the house for everyone for his birthday. The fireplace snapped, colored lights blinked, and disco balls flashed along the ceiling as guys bopped body-to-body, peeling away tops to show off tans and sexy, perspiring abs. Plastic glasses were hoisted as a mass of bee-stung lips and half-closed eyes made pretend love to songs. Jess, Maggie, and I got into a huddle, encircled by the scent of Maggie’s patchouli and Jess’s warm body odor before Jess cracked open poppers and I took a fast elevator ride up and down inside. Why did we even need to go to New Orleans when Mardi Gras was here?

Dancers getting down to Kool and the Gang’s “Jungle Boogie” modeled diverse and colorful styles. No longer funky or casual, guys now wore wide-flared bell-bottoms, flashy belts, and bright silk shirts and experimented with new moves, agile in platform shoes and clogs on the throbbing, tacky fiberglass floor. A loud, clunky fashion had spread in reaction to disco. I preferred classical attire, but the music I couldn’t get enough of. As I began reeling from faux smoke, someone yanked my shirt, and we skipped outdoors to go skinny-dipping.

Maggie only had to remove a top layer to get naked. No bra or panties ever. I always marveled at this. We stepped out of our clothes and went screaming into the bay, splashing frigid water, doing our best to steep in the wet darkness a long while. I wondered what lurked in the fathoms farther out even as I took in the poetry of our thrashing limbs under moonlight. My thighs ossified as we stumbled out and tried to find and put on our clothes. In a nearby alley, guys were getting it on, their forms melding as tiny cigarette or joint lights floated around them. Then the Back Room’s lights blinked, signaling last call, only a few minutes to warm up alongside the fire before the bar closed.

The next day we broke into the Holiday Inn sauna to sweat out our hangovers. Maggie’s glazed cat eyes passed over my long legs and flat belly with a blend of what I perceived as lust and envy. Jess fixed on me too, both of us at ease, naked. Then Maggie began her Playboy bunny posing, arms stretching over her head to get Jess’s attention, licking her lips sensually in full feline mode. “I would dig a threesome any time with my two favorite people.”

No doubt a hangover made me overly sensitive, but what she said ruffled then pissed me off. I realized I had gotten close enough to let her get to me. Maggie and I were free to do what we wanted, no strings attached.

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