"Gunns!" I smiled and looked into his deep blue eyes. All 6 foot 4 of him engulfed me in a hug, and suddenly all was forgiven. I’d missed his school-boyish charm and charisma, and I was eager to catch up. He’d been seeing a girl for about a year; though they weren’t living together he described them as “comfortable.” I seemed to think that spelled trouble, but I kept it to myself.
Gunns had gotten himself a new gig, protecting the entrance of the newest club 
in town. The last time I’d seen him was at a place he wasn’t too thrilled with. I said goodbye to him, and saw the defeated look in his eyes; he was no longer doing the thing he loved.
That spark was back in his eyes, and he was in his element. He loved to take care of people, and seeing as how it was my “uber-late” birthday party, he invited us in and sat us at the interactive VIP table.
That’s right, I said interactive. Beneath the glass bounced all sorts of psychedelic objects. Gunns gave us all drink tokens, and threw one of them on the center of the table. All the objects went toward it like a vortex and cleared the table. By dragging our fingers around the table, we could make shapes and words out of all kinds of things; little people, hearts, flowers that bloomed with each touch. My favorite was writing in bubbles, then an octopus appeared and swam along the stream of bubbles.
After a few hours, someone wanted bottle service, so we were unceremoniously dumped out onto the dance floor with the unwashed masses.
My friends took it in stride, and we stayed out dancing for awhile.
Suddenly I found all my friends and 4 or 5 guys staring at me. “What?” I yelled above the music. MoMo’s voice faded in and out of the music, but I gathered that she had just told them that this was my bachelorette party. Before I had a chance to deny the claim, the guys were surrounding me, and one went so far as to start grinding with me. “We are doing a bachelor party too!” The guy screamed in my ear, then motioned to the nerdliest one of the group. I finally broke free of his grip and said “Are you making sure he’s having a good time?”
“Oh yeah, I’m the best man baby!” He moved closer to me again. I put up my hand and said “then you have a mission; get off me and make sure he has a good time…not you…but him.” And I tried to walk away, but within a few steps the groom stopped me.
“You too, huh?” He motioned to me, then said “It’s my funeral too.”
I looked up at him, astounded. Anyone who would make that statement clearly wasn’t ready to be married. It seemed like an extremely unfunny thing to say. It made me a little sad, and I decided to take the bathroom escape.
We danced for a little longer, took many silly pictures, and ended the evening on a high note. I gave Gunns a hug and a kiss goodbye, and he smiled and said to me "Hey, we'll always have Fiji."
I smiled, socked him in the arm, and sashayed away.
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