bite me

After eating dinner with my dad at Rancho's, I headed to Shooters to support my friend Edgar, who was DJing there for the first time. Remembering how good it felt when my friends showed up back in my dj esoterica days, I got there early and pretty much stayed on the dance floor. By 11:30, the place was packed and I had decided that it was time to call it a night. Ten minutes later, I was still dancing to a set that included "Panic," "It's a Sin," and "Let's Dance."

That's when I turned around and was nearly face to face with a goth boy. He was smiling, holding a beer, and not a bad dancer. He said "hello" and I didn't move away. He seemed friendly, but not smarmy. He told me his name, asked mine, and made smalltalk. That's when things got weird.

He said "I like your neck."

Thinking I must have misunderstood him, I said "I'm sorry?" and leaned my ear closer to him.
Instead of repeating himself, he bit me.
That's right. He bit my neck. WTF?!

I backed away, more amused than angry, and asked him how old he was.
He tried to be coy and said "how old do you think I am?"

I responded with "I asked you a question: how old are you?"
He said "26."
I then said "but obviously not old enough to know better than to do that to a complete stranger."

I walked away, said "goodnight" to Edgar, and then made a clean getaway.

I've been going to clubs like these for nearly a decade and have never met a goth quite so bold. I'm also fairly certain that I don't put out a vibe that says "bite me." (At least not in the literal sense.)

Thankfully, he left no marks. Freak.