Dating in the Dark

The following story has been entered into the Valentine's Day contest for 2020. Many thanks to Vix_Giovanni for beta reading this for me and offering her insightful suggestions! Please check out her wonderful work if you have not done so already.

***

I pulled my phone briefly out of my pocket, exposing fingers to the chilly air just long enough to fire off a quick "BRT" to Irina. Stuffing it back in my coat pocket, I continued down Bleecker Street, past the butchers, pizzerias, and cheese shops where weekend shoppers conducted errands or connected with friends to indulge in a boozy brunch.

I badly needed a coffee and couldn't wait to reach Gotham Grounds, step inside to inhale the deep, earthy scent of freshly brewed beans, and make my way to the shiny chrome La Marzocco that would soon be hissing and dispensing that beautiful, steaming hot liquid into a ceramic mug just for me.

Irina was already there, huddled in the corner with a latte. I grabbed a coffee and chocolate croissant and rushed over to greet her.

"What's uuuup, Corinne!" Irina squealed, hopping out of her seat momentarily to give me a hug.

"Hey girl!" I laughed, flinging off my heavy coat and grabbing the seat across from her.

"So tell me, tell me, what's new? How did it go last night?" Irina asked excitedly.

"Oh, you know, another shitty date that went nowhere," I grumbled.

"Okay, that's it. I think it's time to get you set up with this guy I know. He's--"

"Seriously? You really want to see me go through another failed attempt at happiness?" I said with a smirk. "Does this amuse you? Does it bring you joy to see what an absolute loser I am while you fuck some handsome entrepreneur who founded a company that revolutionizes hospital treatments and brings puppies to visit sick patients?" I took a deep sip of hot coffee, anxious for it to soothe my emotions.

"Just the hospital treatments stuff. No puppies. I only said he had a cute puppy," Irina replied with a sly grin.

"Whatever," I laughed.

Irina's phone lit up on the table. "Is that her?" I asked.

"Yup," Irina said, picking up her phone, dismissing the text message, and setting it back down. "She just wants me to set up a dinner reservation." Irina was a publicist for an up-and-coming starlet named Claire who was always wanting to be seen at the hottest clubs and restaurants.

"When are you gonna stop being a fucking gopher and get your own fashionable life?" I snickered, taking the opportunity for a friendly dig at her.

Irina grinned. "Seriously though, we need to get you someone. When's the last time you had a really good fuck?"

"Oh... um..." I fumbled, embarrassed by the question our neighbors may have overheard. Irina didn't seem to care about their presence.

"I'm gonna make it my personal mission at this point 'cuz you always seem to have some excuse. Like that scar or some shit, as if people care," she continued. I glared at Irina. She knew very well I was embarrassed about that.

"Hey--" Irina said, calling out to a busboy as he passed by. "Lemme ask you something. Do you think that little scar is sexy?" she asked, pointing to the little one-inch imperfection shooting down from behind my left ear. My face grew red and I suddenly felt hot.

The busboy looked at the side of my head thoughtfully. "May I?" he said after a moment, a dopey grin forming on his face. I rolled my eyes, then nodded. He carefully tucked my hair behind my ear and gazed at it, following it down to observe the thin line that wasn't supposed to be there.

"It's quite beautiful, actually," the busboy said. "The hard, sharp line just accentuates the delicate shape of your ear which is really very lovely. Not to mention the mystery something like that evokes." He grinned at me, apparently proud of himself.

Irina slapped both hands on the table and leaned forward, her face lit up by the candle as if it were on fire. I wished it were. "See!" Irina exclaimed. She offered the young man a smile. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," he replied before offering me another smile and heading behind the counter.

"Fuuuuck you," I groaned.

"What? You were the one who told me that your ex- said it made you look like a badass."

"Yeah, but that only lasts until they find out how I got it!" I rolled my eyes at her.

The truth was, I tripped on a step walking onto the stage for my high school graduation and face-planted in front of the whole school. There was blood everywhere, yet somehow they found it so funny that I still hear about it to this day. That's me. I'm the one who went down hard during graduation.

"Anyway--" Irina continued, "Did that dating app not help?"

"I mean... it's okay. I get a lot of messages but so far the guys have all been boring or jerks. You can tell right away from the stupid photos they upload what kind of awful they're gonna be and then you're like... 'eh, do I really want to even bother?'"

"Well, you can't always judge a book by its cover. Why don't you take a chance?"

"I dunno. We'll Alsancak Escort see."

"Well whatever you're doing, you need to start doing the exact opposite. Date someone who looks totally different than you would normally date. Maybe even go on a blind date. You could--" Suddenly Irina's mouth snapped shut and her eyes opened wide.

I knew that look. It scared me. ".... What?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Wait a sec..." Irina replied, scooping up her phone and thumbing quickly through a list of something. "You wouldn't believe the weird shit that Claire gets invited to that she obviously isn't going to-- a-ha! Here it is." She stared at the screen, reading something. "Oh-my-fucking-god. This is perfect. You'd never do this." She laughed. "You totally gotta do it."

"Uhhh... something tells me I don't want to know."

"No, no, wait. Do you trust me? -- Uh, nevermind. Don't answer that. Just do what I say. I'm gonna RSVP on your behalf for a kinky dating event."

"Wait -- hold on. A what?" I lifted my mug to my face as if trying to hide behind it.

"A dating event held by a group called The Kink Kollective. They do all this super risqué stuff. This one is perfect because you can't even see the guy you're with. No prejudging him."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I whispered, embarrassed that the customers nearby might be listening in.

"It's called 'Dating in the Dark'. You show up at this place in midtown. They assign you a number. You get naked and go into a pitch-black room to meet guys in the buff. Get all touchy-feely. You know... sample the goods. And if you like someone, just whisper him your number. If you choose each other by the end of the night, you can have a second date and finally see the person you felt up."

I sat back in shock, casting her a look of complete disbelief. She briefly glanced up at the couple next to us who'd clearly heard something because they were frozen in place, blushing and holding their drinks.

"You want me to go to something like that?!" I laughed, becoming uncomfortably conscious of the sudden silence from another couple on the other side of us. I could feel their stares. Now several strangers were listening in. "Don't you dare!" I added.

"Okay fine, then you RSVP," Irina said reciting the email address I had to contact to claim a spot.

"I can't do that!"

"You have no choice! As your best friend, I'm vetoing your refusal."

I groaned. All around us were alert coffee drinkers with wide eyes and suppressed laughter. We had a full-on audience now. They were well aware of what Irina had just scandalously insisted I do. I just wanted them all to go. I was mortified.

After a few moments, I lowered my voice and replied, "I have to be, like, naked-naked?" Irina grinned and nodded. "But you're absolutely sure that no one can see?" She nodded faster.

I stared at Irina blankly as her wide grin began to stretch from ear to ear. I struggled to think of a way out of this -- but there was none. Irina always got what she wanted and like an idiot, I always went along with her crazy ideas. Instead, I would have to find a way to get back at her for it later.

Slowly, she lifted the mug to her face, hiding that grin and knowing that she had me cornered, savoring the naughtiness of her cruel plans...

***

Yeah, I did it. I went.

Was I scared? Nope. I was terrified.

It was a miserable night. One of those uncomfortable February rains had just ended; the kind that sinks into your bones and makes you desperate for spring to arrive. I navigated under midtown scaffolding where it was still reasonably dry, only to be met with the unmistakable tang of fresh urine. All I could think of was: Am I really going where I'm going? Am I really going to do something so twisted? So perversely... uh... exciting? I almost didn't want to admit I was secretly kind of turned on.

I took the city smell as punishment. It filled me with guilt over how filthy I felt I was about to be.

I reached a plain metal door, its ancient green paint peeling, with the correct address affixed to the frame in tarnished metal digits. The buzzer was there, just as I was informed. I pressed the little off-white button that looked like a dirty tooth. There was an unintelligible squawk, then a buzz. I turned the knob and felt the lock release, then found myself in front of a tall stairwell and an elevator marked "out of service."

The building was one of those nondescript towers whose hallways were filled with gray, stained carpeting and door after door of small businesses struggling to make it. A floral arranger, accountant, yoga studio, something called M