Ground Zero Narrative

May I Hit On You?
*
It was my first time going to Ground Zero. I hadn’t known what it would be like; I just decided to go to an event that I saw on Facebook. The event was themed as the seven deadly sins. Almost everyone at this club was dressed up as a sin of some sort. I simply wore a short, maroon dress and called myself vanity. I learned quickly that Ground Zero was a goth and bondage club, two things I have very limited knowledge of. The club itself was kept dark and mysterious, with a large dance floor. In the back corner behind the dance floor there was a small bondage show going on and people selling items for that kink. I didn’t watch. Pleather and latex seemed like a theme at this place. That’s not how dress to clubs, but the people

watching there was great.
My friends Sara and Mike went with me.

Sara sarcastically made fun of the fact that I was single the entire night. “Well why don’t you go hit on someone then?” Sara said. We were outside in the smoking area; it was quieter and less crowded. A handsome man dressed all in black caught my eye; he didn’t look like the average patron here. His smile glistened through the thick fog of smoke as though a lighthouse guiding me to shore. Perhaps it was the disdain for my companion, perhaps it was his smile, but I found whom I wanted to spend my time talking to.
I glided to the man-in-black’s side, and uttered the words which started a new chapter in my life. “Can I hit on

you?”
“Uhh, sure.” He replied with a smile, putting his arm around me “What’s your name?”
“Sierra.”
“That’s a beautiful name, Sierra.”
I had surprisingly been prepared for that answer. Tumblr had equipped me with the ability to have random quotes from TV shows that I haven’t even watched. I used the line from Phoebe from the TV show friends, “if you like that, you should hear my number.”
“How about I just give you my card instead?” He replied, handing me his business card before I even realized he’d gotten one out of his wallet.
It was a blue card with a house on top. “Anderson Home and Gardens,” it read, with his name, Devon Devereaux, on the bottom left hand corner. I was impressed. Here he was, a man not yet even legally allowed to drink at this club, and he was handing me his card.
As we talked I couldn’t remove the wide goofy grin off that he had put on my face. It seemed natural to be laughing and enjoy all this time with him. When we talked there wasn’t one part of me that was being fake, I didn’t feel as though he would judge me. Embarrassing stories came up like how I didn’t know my left from right and used an Elmo sticker to the left on my car windshield to help me out when driving so that I could tell directions better.
I wanted to know more about him. “What do you like to do in your free time?” I asked him.
“I play guitar. I know Japanese. Anything that catches my attention I like to do,” that intimidated me. Here I was, a girl who is clumsy, silly, and sarcastic with a guy who seemed so talented and confident.
“I bet you play ukulele too,” I teased. The ukulele was my favorite instrument and its uniqueness always made thrilled.
He looked shocked, “yes I do.” That made me giddy. He seemed interesting and creative. The stories he told kept me intrigued, I wanted to hear more. He told me about his travels around the world and why he started his own business. I didn’t seem to have anything to compete with. Every time I opened my mouth something awkwardly honest ended up coming out.
I started, “Well I’m kind of a nerd and...”
He stopped me before I could continue, “Wait what type of nerd? Like if we were having pillow talk would you pull out a little Doctor Who or are you going to go into the abundance of anime knowledge stored in your head.” He seemed actually concerned.
“Not anime. I don’t watch anime unless I’m being made to,” I answered. He looked relieved.
“If it wasn’t too early for it, I may have just kissed you for the answer,” he didn’t enjoy anime. He had spent some of his time in clubs like Ground Zero where people who were far from normal congregated. He liked the variety of people. There was a theme among the assorted individuals, though, many liked anime and they were vocal about it.
He didn’t look like he belonged in this club. Together we were a pair of bright eyed blondes who looked as vanilla as they came in a sea of people dressed as sins. I realized that I didn’t know his height, which did matter a bit to me. I’m 5’11, so anything long term with a guy who is less than 5’8 has always scared me because of societal standards.
“How tall are you?” I doubted that a guy this fantastic would actually be taller than me, and I was hesitant to learn.
“I don’t know actually,” he said as he got up and grabbed my hand. I stood up and we looked into each other’s eyes. He was what seemed about an inch taller than me. This made me unnecessarily delighted.
*
We sat back down.

Cuddling up in his arms as we talked about our hometowns.
“Are you done yet?” Sara said, attempting to rip us away from this beautiful moment. I understand now that she was trying to make sure I was safe, as I was talking to a stranger I had just met. I was still annoyed with her from the earlier confrontations we had. Her slight intoxication was another thing I didn’t want to deal with it.
“No, you’re being a cockblocker.” We answered in unison. I knew I was going to get in trouble for that later, but it didn’t matter, nothing but the man in black mattered to me at that time. She glared at us and went back inside. There was a fight with her later on about that, but it turned out well because I had got to spend more time getting to know Devon.
“Would you be my girlfriend,” he abruptly said catching me off guard. I just met this man and he didn’t look like the relationship type.
“Do you mean like an open relationship type situation?” Never had I met anyone like him, and I was willing to try anything to spend more time with him.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he answered. We talked about how we both had never been in a committed relationship and how this was a good start so neither of us felt

trapped.
*
So there I had it, I came to the

Our conversation might have ended a half hour later at closing time, if not for me calling him on the drive back home and making plans to meet up the next day at the festival of burritos.
*Conclusion (where we are now)