July 15, 2011

Samantha King: Bars

Season 1: Episode 1

Queen-of-mean. as Samantha King

Guest Starring
jjgangstevenjj as Stan Freedman

Samantha sat quietly in her small bedroom, her long, conditioned legs swinging lazily over the side of her bed. She hummed a tune lost long ago in her memory while daydreaming of the happiness and contentment she lacked in life. To her family and friends, Samantha had a vivacious spirit and an absolutely amazing fire about her. She appeared perfectly cheerful, socially accepted among the small community in which they dwelled, and admired by all whom she knew. Her dissatisfaction in life was a secret she long carried.

It was nearing seven o’clock and her date with Stan Freedman was drawing nearer by the moment. Samantha sighed and dragged herself from her bed to get ready. Unlike most days, she dressed quickly and fairly generic. Stan the Man as she often referred to him was taking her into the city for a wrestling match. Classy.

Walking down the hall into the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of water and sat at the table flipping through one of her mom’s cosmetic catalogues. Bored within a minute, Samantha pulled out her cell phone and dialed Stan’s number. It rang twice before he answered.

Stan: Hello?
Samantha: Stan, where are you babe? I’m bored out of my mind! Let’s go already.
Stan: I’m on my way. We’re a bit early actually. Want to grab some dinner first?
Samantha: Oh joy. Let me guess, hot dogs and cokes outside the arena? (She teased)

Stan laughed. He was so easily amused by her it was almost pathetic. Samantha sighed but smiled, hoping her night with Stan would be somewhat satisfactory. She needed excitement and adventure. Maybe watching a bunch of sweaty men in plastic bikinis throw each other around would provide just what she needed.

Stan: I’ll take care of you Sam. I’m pulling up right now.

Samantha hung up and grabbed her large, orange purse off the counter. She hopped out the front door down the drive towards Stan’s sleek, black sports car. She walked quickly, hoping to avoid loitering. Sam was hungry and edgy. She didn’t feel in the mood for small talk. There would plenty of that on the forty-five minute drive to the city.

Samantha: Hey (smiling widely)
Stan: (Grinned at her) How are you feeling tonight, Ms. King? (Brushing her hair behind her shoulder and kissing her cheek.)
Samantha: (Shivered and blushed) I think I’m going to enjoy myself tonight.
Stan: (Nodded and backed out of the driveway)

Samantha’s small country house was settled about thirty minutes from any real civilization in the backwoods of Dollvilla, Stardoll but one wouldn’t be able to tell it from the way she appeared. She fit right in with the city kids, the pompous generation of daddy’s money, fast cars, and designer jeans. In high school, Samantha had been voted Prom Queen, something she secretly loathed. She wanted to be seen as more than just the beauty queen of the mid-nineties. With a sigh, Samantha realized that high school was over and her days of being at the top were numbered. Being a college freshman would put her on the same playing field as everyone else. Relief washed over her face and she stretched blissfully. Stan smiled at her as they sped down the interstate.

Samantha was very shocked to find they were in the city, being seated in a nice Italian restaurant, all within the time frame of thirty-seven minutes. Most Friday nights, Dollywood would be crowded with gamblers and tourists from all over the country, coming to blow their hard earned money in a single weekend. It was unusually tame, as if the wind had ceased to blow and the ocean had discontinued its roll. The city had slowed from a sprint to a creep with their arrival. The colorful fluorescent lights still shone, and the city stirred, but the sound of the inhabitants was oddly muffled to Samantha.

She dropped her napkin in her lap and relaxed in her seat. Stan sat adjacent to her and tried to hold her hand. Sam only hesitated momentarily before giving in. She didn’t know why she reacted the way she did. Stan was very attractive, probably one of the most handsome fellows to ever walk the halls of Doll County High. Samantha wanted to shoot herself in the eye for making him feel inadequate. To reassure him, she squeezed his strong hand quietly in hers and bit her bottom lip, staring into her wonderful blue eyes.

Samantha: You are so sweet, Stan. (Rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb)
Stan: (Grins and leans over to kiss her lips)

Samantha couldn’t help but look around while their lips were locked, wondering who was repulsed. He kissed her a bit roughly and Samantha pulled away, laughing.

Samantha: Okay, Freedman. I might need those later. (Rubbing her bottom lip playfully)
Stan: (Pleased with her reaction and took a sip of his water)

They talked minimally until the waitress came and took their order. Without asking, Stan ordered for her. Samantha almost felt childish. When the waitress left, Samantha felt her spirit go with her. Stan droned on and on about their high school days, as if they were already lost in time. Samantha only smiled politely, nodding at the appropriate times, agreeing to things she barely even heard. Stan didn’t seem to care. He was all talk and very little else. This was the way their relationship had started several months earlier. Samantha had let her popular girl mentality take over, mesmerized by the thought of being Stan Freedman’s girl, and she coaxed herself into believing she wanted to be on his arm at all times. It wasn’t until graduation that Samantha realized just how shallow and pitiful her life had turned out to be.

They ate quietly and quickly, although Samantha was unsure why. The wrestling match didn’t start until ten and it was only eight-forty once when they paid and left. Stan took Samantha’s hand as they walked the few blocks toward the forum. It was warm outside and Samantha’s skin was moist with the hot air. She swung her hair behind her shoulders and rolled her neck. Stan suddenly slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her slightly closer. Samantha didn’t like the way their two hot bodies were so close. She pulled apart and stopped walking, pretending to look through her purse for something. Stan paused, looking a bit irritated.

Stan: Samantha, c’mon. We’ll find whatever it is once we’re inside the bar. (Urging her to hurry)
Samantha: (Shrugged and hurried ahead of him) Why are we going into a bar?
Stan: We’ve got time to kill. I figured we’d watch the game and maybe dance a bit.
Samantha: I’m only seventeen, Stan. I can’t get in there.
Stan: (Rolled his eyes) It’s fine. There’s a family event going on next door. No one cares who’s in there. Besides, you don’t look seventeen. Do you really think they’re going to keep you out?
Samantha: (Shrugged, realizing he was probably right_

They walked right into the bar without anyone saying a word to either of them. Stan was old enough to get in, being eighteen, but Sam doubted he had a fake ID to drink. He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between his teeth, lighting up with a fancy silver lighter. He offered Samantha a smoke but she declined, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Samantha: Well, we certainly blend right in. (She said sarcastically)

This was not a place most of the kids their age would visit. Mostly older men and women sat around, watching a baseball game, laughing obscenely and smoking. It seemed like more of a pub than a bar. Several families sat around eating together and only a handful of women were dancing.

Stan: Don’t worry babe. (Looking over at the bar where some middle-aged women sat)

Samantha ignored this. She didn’t care what happened now. Stan’s shallowness had already ruined the evening. She didn’t care if he left with a handful of old women and some cheap gas station smokes. Stan was much too evolved for Samantha’s tastes.

From his first cigarette to his fifth, Stan slowly started going downhill. He didn’t bother to say more than five words every few minutes, mainly to comment on the game overhead or to ask if she wanted anything. After half an hour of nothing, she finally allowed him to buy her a diet soda. Anything to keep him preoccupied until the match. Chit chat was not going well at all.

He came back with her drink and put out his cigarette in the ashtray. Almost stoically, he leaned over and kissed Samantha’s cheek.

Stan: Hey Sammie, I’ve got to go to the bathroom. You’ll be alright, won’t you? (He said uneasily)
Samantha: (Her stomach drop and pick up quickly) Sure Stan. I’ll be okay. (She said, knowing what he really meant)

She was surprised he had lasted this long. Samantha knew she had been a lousy date, but bad enough that he wanted to leave her? Stan pursed his lips and rubbed her shoulder.

Stan: Alright, I’ll make it fast. (He said, his eyes averting to the ground.)
Samantha: (Sighed and looked down at her drink)

She didn’t want to watch him walk out the front door.

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