“Wow! Look at this!” Robert said as got out of his car across the street from Happy Bob's Grocery Store in Plainsight, Texas. John, Mark and Jesse, getting out of their cars after lunch, turned to see Robert pointing to a sign on the light post. Roy Harper, owner of Jesse's apartment house, and Akina Toriyama, exchange student a Plainsight College, we already discussing the sign.

“DANCE!” Roy read, “They're Back Home! SIGMA! These hometown boys have just finished a world tour promoting their latest CD 'TKO!' Come hear them play at the Plainsight VFW Hall. Admission $5.”

“Sigma?” Akina asked as the Happy Bob's crew approached. “I have their debut album! They're from Plainsight?”

“Sure,” Roy said, hands on his hips, chest out proudly. “I went to high school with them.”

“I listened to them all the time,” Akina continued, as if she hadn't heard Roy speak. “Can we go?”

John, standing behind Akina, said, “I'll take you, Akina.”

Roy whirled to face John. “I'll take her.”

“I asked first,” John demanded.

Akina leapt between the two shoving them apart with a mighty shove. “Boys! Stop it!”

“I'm sorry, John,” Akina said. “I did ask Roy first.”

Roy puffed out his chest and buffed his fingernails on his shirt. John's shoulders slumped in defeat.

“We can go out another time.”

While John's shoulders straightened, Roy's eyebrows knitted together, and his hands flew to his hips.

Before further violence broke out, Jesse asked, “Why don't we all go together? You know, as a group. We could reserve a table, or something. . .”

Robert beamed. “Great idea! Think of the fun we could have!”

Mark, checking his watch, said, “We won't have very much fun if we get fired for coming back late from lunch. C'mon, guys.” He turned and headed for the store.

Robert and Jesse fell in behind him. “First, we all have to get dates,” Robert said.

“Dates? I don't know anyone here!” Jesse said in alarm.

Robert waved his hand dismissively. “I'll let you borrow my Little Black Book,” he said. “You're bound to find someone in there to go out with.”

“Thanks, Robert,” Jesse said.

“Don't mention it. We men have to stick together.” He laughed. “John, maybe you should borrow it, too!” He turned to see John still standing beside Akina, talking.

“John! Workee workee!”

John, jumped in surprise. He made his goodbyes to Akina, glared at Roy and trotted across the street to join his co-workers as they walked inside.

Mark started knotting his tie, as he passed the check stands. Lupe and Tami were busy checking out customers, the beep of items being dragged across across the scanner sounding like the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. Eunice stood in the first check stand, waiting for a customer. At the sound of the door opening she turned and said, “Howdy! Oh!” She interrupted herself as Mark led the other three in. “It's you. How was lunch?”

“Fine,” Mark said straitening the tie and walking to the time clock by the office door.

As John walked by the check stand, still watching Akina and Roy across the street, Eunice stepped in front of him. She aimed her chest at John and he collided with her. “Excuse me!” he said reflexively. “Oh. Eunice. Hi.”

Eunice leaned close to John, rubbing her breasts across his chest, forcing him to step back. “If you want to feel my tits, all you have to do is ask,” Eunice said.

“Sorry. It was an accident,” John stepped around her.

“Get back to work, John,” Hank said, as he bagged groceries for Lupe. “Flirt, later!”

“Right, Hank.”

“Mr. Dean!” Hank shouted.

“Right, Mr. Dean,” John said as he trotted over to the time clock and punched in.

Hank glowered as John walked away, headed for the back room.

John walked into back room as Robert and Mark started loading partial cases of merchandise onto carts. Jesse stood by the silver swing doors that led to the market, and was using the phone.

“Hi, Susan? This is Jesse. Jesse Rivera. . . Well, I was wondering if you would like to go to the Sigma concert with me . . . From Robert.” He wiped his brow as listened. Suddenly he pulled the phone away from his ear. John could hear Susan screaming, her tinny voice clear twenty five feet away.

John grabbed an empty cart, and began loading it with back stock for his aisle. Even though Robert's back was to him, John could see his shoulders shaking with laughter.

Jesse hung up the phone. “Robert,” he said, “I think Susan would prefer you not give out her number.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Robert said, winking at John. “Try Barbara Jacoby. She's always game for a concert.”

Jesse flipped through the pages, found the name, and dialed the phone. “Um, hi. Barbara? This is Jesse Rivera. I work with Robert, and we . . .”

Jesse's eyes grew wide. “Sure, I'll tell him. 'Bye.”

Jesse hung up the phone. “What did you do to her, man? She told me to tell you to . . .”

Robert held up his hand. “We don't need to hear that kind of language, Jesse. Thanks very much.”

Jesse tossed the little notebook to Robert, who caught after batting it up in the air a couple of times, the pages fluttering in the wind. “Thanks a lot, Robert,” he said darkly. “I hope you enjoyed it.” Then he jerked the last empty cart from its spot along the wall and started loading it with cereal back stock, slamming the boxes roughly onto the cart.

Robert sighed. “I'm sorry, Jesse. I was just yanking your chain. I'll help you find a date.”

“With who? Someone who only wants to kill you instead of merely dismember you and everyone you know?” THUMP! Went another box onto the cart.

“No, no, no,” Robert said. “I mean it.”

Jesse paused and looked at Robert intently. “Alright, but if I get yelled at one more time. . .”

“Don't worry, Jesse. In a week you'll be on a date with a very appreciative young lady.”

“John, package please,” Eunice's voice boomed through the store over the intercom.

“There better be a customer there this time,” John muttered.

Mark laughed. “Yeah. You don't want Hank yelling at you for be flirted with.” John disappeared and the three stockers silently continued to load their carts for a few moments.

Jesse said, “Robert?”

“Yeah?”

“You think we could find a girl with big tits?”

Robert laughed. “One step at a time, Jesse. One step at a time.”

The Plainsight VFW hall was out by Lake Plainsight, on Inspiration Point—a bluff with a panoramic view of the lake. The hall was a medium sized frame building that was once one of the finest hotels in the region. A fire sometime in the 40s destroyed much of the complex, and the VFW remodeled it with a large dance floor and auditorium, used mostly for VFW dances, and banquets.

For the Sigma concert, all the tables and chairs had been folded and stacked along the walls. Two shaggy looking guys in black t-shirts, wearing laminated id cards around their necks and holding longnecks operated the soundboard near the back wall. Five more guys wearing gray Sigma shirts with “SECURITY” on the backs milled in front of a stage at the other end of the room a couple of hundred people milled around on the floor, filling the room with a steady buzz of conversations.

The Happy Bob's crew arrived together. Robert entered the room first, holding his hands up the air and screamed, “Let's ROCK!” His date, Tami, a petite brunette with straight, long hair that reached to her ankles, was wearing a leather skirt and bustier, large silver chains, fishnet stockings and knee high boots. A pair of handcuffs hung on one of the belt loops. “Yeah!” she yelled, as they disappeared into the crowd in front of the stage.

Mark and John strolled in together. They had just gotten off from work, and were still in their white shirts. They waved to friends in the crowd and made their way over to the bar at the side of the auditorium. They stepped up to the bar, Mark digging his wallet from his back pocket. He looked back. “What do you guys. . .” he started. “Where'd Jesse go?” he asked.

John smiled. “He stopped at the pay phone. He's still going through Robert's little black book.”

Mark ordered two beers while John scanned the crowd. He spotted Roy and Akina near the stage. Roy was wearing a Sigma tour jacket, and Akina was wearing a white tank top, a short skirt that showed off her legs, and a pair of heels. They were talking to a tall, wiry guy with a head of blond hair that looked like a lion's mane. He was wearing ratty jeans and a leather vest.

Mark handed John a beer and saw what John was looking at. “Damn! Akina looks good tonight,” he said.

“Yeah,” John agreed.

“Let's go on over.”

They made their way through the crowd in a serpentine fashion, moving right or left as the obstacles dictated. “. . .then we wind up with a three week tour of Japan and Australia,” the blond man said. His eyes darted to Mark and John, which caused Roy to turn.

“Oh! Hi, Mark. Hi, John.” He indicated the man beside him. “This is Pete Gambora. He's the lead singer of Sigma.” As Mark and John exchanged greetings with Peter, Roy puffed out his chest. “We went to school together.”

“Really? You finally graduated,” John said.

“Very funny,” Roy said.

Pete looked confused, and quickly changed the subject. “Well, we're about to start. Roy, if you and Akina will hang around after the show, I'll introduce ya'll to the rest of the band.”

“Sugoi!” Akina said, clapping her hands. “That's great! Thank you, Peter.”

“See ya then!” He turned and walked through the door beside the stage.

“Can I get you a drink, Akina?” John offered.

“I brought Akina,” Roy said stepping between the two of them. “I'll get her a drink!”

“Just being friendly, Roy,” John said, trying to smooth things over.

Roy sniffed, turned to Akina and said, “Stay here so we don't lose our place.” He shot John a withering glance as he made his way through the thickening crowd.

“I do not know why you have to act that way, John,” Akina said with a frown.

John tried his best “Who? Li'l ol' me?” look.

Before he could say anything, thought, the lights in the auditorium went down. “Good evening, Plainsight!” a voice said over the loudspeaker. “Get ready to rock with SIGMA!”

The crowd cheered and surged forward as the stage lights came up, and the five piece band took the stage. A big burly guy with an unlit cigar stood behind the drums, holding the drumsticks high above his head. A slim, dour looking man with an afro got behind the keyboards. The lead guitarist and the bass guitarist stepped up to microphones flanking Pete who held a wireless mike in his hand.

The drummer clicked the sticks together three times, and on the fourth beat smashed down on the drums, starting the first song, just as pyrotechnics went off on the corners of the stage.

“Rock it!” Pete screeched, and another pyrotechnic blast went off. “Attaaaaack!” he finished and the band launched into the latest number one hit. The crowd surged forward, pressing Mark against John, John against Akina, and Akina next to the stage.

Roy, stuck at the fringe of the crowd by the bar, glared towards John, who, along with the rest of the crowd was moving in rhythm to the song. John had outfoxed him, he decided. Now he had to turn the tables, and get John away from Akina.

Roy fought his way to the back of the auditorium, and slipped out into the main bar of the VFW hall. He rushed over to a bank of phones near the front door. They were all taken!

Roy stood there fuming, until he heard Jesse say, “Well, if you're sure you'd rather wash your hair. . . Hello? Hello?”
Roy grabbed the phone, shoved Jesse aside. “Sorry, Jesse. I need to use the phone.”

Jesse looked shocked. He couldn't decide if he should confront his landlord or not. He finally decided it wasn't a good idea.
Roy dialed 411. “Eunice Estleman, please. . . . And her address?” He pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled the address down. “Thanks!” He handed the phone to Roy and ran out the front door.

Eunice lived in a Lakeside Trailer Park on the other side of town. She had just taken a shower, and was wearing slightly oversize t-shirt that barely covered her butt. She paused to admire herself in the mirror, one hand on her hip, the other on her head. There was a knock on the door.

Roy was standing at the bottom of the three wooden steps that lead up to the door of the trailer. He was glancing at his watch when the door opened outward, and a rectangle of light spilled across the ground. He looked up and saw Eunice with the light behind her head, looking like a angelic halo. “Oh! Hi, Roy.”

“Hi, Eunice,” Roy said smiling. He couldn't stop himself from looking up Eunice's shirt. With a start, he realized she was wearing nothing underneath the shirt. “Uh, I ran into John at the dance,” he began.

“He told me he wasn't going,” Eunice said unconcerned with the display she was giving Roy.

“He changed his mind, I guess. He asked me where you were. . .”

Eunice jumped, her large, braless breasts jiggled under her t-shirt. Roy wiped his brow as she said, “He did?”

“Yeah. So I figured I'd come get you and give you a ride to the dance.”

She jumped up and down several times, which mesmerized Roy briefly. “Well?” he asked.

“Let me get dressed,” she said and whirled and ran back into the trailer, the hem of her shirt flapping and exposing her bare butt.

Roy checked his watch again, tapping his foot. “C'mon, c'mon!” he whispered to himself. To Eunice he called sweetly, “Don't worry about underwear, Eunice! It'll just slow things down!”

“Right!” she answered from the back bedroom.

A few, long moments passed, during which Eunice sang, off key, probably the worst bubble gum pop love song ever recorded, and Roy checked and rechecked his watch and tapped his foot impatiently. Finally, Eunice burst threw the front door in a miniskirt and tight, white blouse. Roy couldn't help but stare. He hadn't really realized how well endowed Eunice was, and the thin material made it clear that she was happy to be there. Or that it was cold. She would have been even better looking, Roy decided, if she'd lose those hideous, thick-rimmed glasses, and get a modern hair style.

Roy got her in the car and drove off as Eunice prattled on and on about John. She never noticed that Roy had turn the air conditioner to it coldest setting.

Roy led Eunice through the front doors of the VFW hall, past the phone bank where Jesse was still on the phone, past the main bar and into the auditorium. Sigma was winding up their first hit, “TKO,” as Roy drug Eunice through the crowd towards the heads of John and Akina.

As the song ended on stage, Pete shouted, “We'll be right back, Plainsight. Don't go anywhere!”

The crowd seemed to part like the Red Sea in front of Moses as Roy towed Eunice to the stage. “Sorry I couldn't get back to you, Akina,” Roy said. “The crowd was too thick.”

“I know,” Akina said, turning to face Roy. “It was so crowded I could hardly breathe!”

“Hi, John,” Eunice said, balanced on one leg, twisting her other leg on her toe.

“Oh. Hi, Eunice.”

“Roy told me that you were looking for me.” She stood next to John, running a hand across his chest, pressing her breasts into his arm.

“He what?” John said as he tried to squirm away. He couldn't step back, because Mark was blocking him. “I wasn't looking for you,” he said. He glared at Roy who was doubled over trying to hide his laughter.

“Come on, John,” Eunice purred, “let's go find a nice quiet spot to make out.”

John couldn't take it anymore. He jerked from Eunice's grip, and bolted for the exit. Eunice chased after him, her breasts bouncing in rhythm to her gait.

Mark started laughing and wandered off towards the bar, leaving Roy and Akina standing beside the stage.

Roy managed to get control of himself and straitened up. He tugged at the waistband of his tour jacket, and said, “Well, now that we're alone. . .”

Akina slapped him.

“Hey!”

“How can you be so mean?” Akina demanded loudly. Heads around them swiveled in their direction. “You know Eunice has a crush on John, and you know John does not like Eunice. Why would you do such a thing?”

“He was butting in on our date,” Roy began.

“I would not have let him interrupt our date, Roy. I can't believe you think that little of me,” she said and walked away.

“Akina, wait!” Roy said as he followed her out the auditorium doors, through the bars, and past the phone bank.

Jesse watched Roy run out into the night, shouting, “Aw, Come on, Akina! Please come back. You won't get to meet the band.” The rest was cut off as the door closed.

Jesse shrugged and dialed the phone. “Hello? . . . Joyce, you don't know me, but my name is Jesse Rivera. I was wondering if you'd like to go to the Sigma concert with me. . . . Robert. . . . Hello?”

He dialed again. “Stacey, my name is Jesse Rivera . . .”

The End?