We get to the parking lot just a few blocks away from LBC (it’s always such a hassle to find parking in that area), and DJ Dreamboat unlocks the doors to his navy blue Grand Vitara. As soon as I get comfortable in the passenger seat, I lean over and kiss him softly, with my mouth almost closed, on his lips while caressing the back of his neck with my left hand. He puts the keys in the ignition, starts the engine and speeds off towards his apartment on the Gold Coast.
In the car, I start playing with the radio dial and browsing the stations until I get to 96.3, Chicago’s #1 Hit Music Station. I turn up the volume. He looks at me and smiles in somewhat disbelief. Here I am, tipsy and dancing around to some horrendous ringtone rap blasting out of the car speakers.
We get to his apartment and I notice that his living room is clean and big, not very crowded, just the essentials: a flat screen TV and black leather sofa and a media stand full of old CDs. He offers me a Diet Coke and then drags me to his room to show me his equipment. After all, that is the reason I’m there to begin with.
He turns on his DJ stand next to his bed and goes over to his speakers and starts playing LCD Soundsystem really loud.
“Uh… are you going to wake up your neighbors?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “If you want to learn, you have to learn at full volume.”
I accept his answer like the good student that I am and walk over to where he is standing by the DJ stand. He hands me a pair of headphones and stands right behind me, letting me in front. He puts his hand on mine, forcefully adjusting my fingers to where they should be on the turntable. He instructs me to listen to the beat, try to follow it and spin it with my hands. As the song keeps playing and I keep trying to spin, all I can think about is him getting closer. I feel his belt buckle up against my lower back and his breath on my neck. That’s it: lesson is over.
I turn around, grab him by his waist and guide him to his bed. I climb on top of him and start making out with him. He closes his eyes and puts his head back, so I start licking his neck. LCD is still playing really loud. I notice that his windows are vibrating. He sits up and puts his hands on my shoulders.
“I thought you came here to learn how to spin,” he asks with a smile. And then I stop for a minute and think.
“You’re right,” I say to this guy I’ve just met, this guy I don’t really know anything about, but now I’m on top of on his bed listening to his windows vibrate. “I better get back to my party.”
“Wait… haha, you just got here,” he says and grabs my wrist trying to prevent me from climbing off him.
“I gotta go,” I say kind of winking but not offering any excuses.
“Ok,” he understands. “Let me know whenever you want to continue your lesson.”
“I will, thanks,” I say and take a last sip of the Diet Coke and walk out.
I check my phone and see 3 missed calls from my best friend and a text: “Where did you go? We’re at Moxie!” So I find the nearest cab and head back up towards Addison.
“What happened to you?!” The interrogation begins as soon as I walk in to the bar and up to my group of friends who decided that the 3-hour open bar that I’d planned had not been enough.
“I met a boy at LBC,” I say.
“Oh a boy…” My friend suggests with a suspicious look.
“A DJ,” I clarify, “and we went back to his place…”
“And you guys didn’t hook up? What are you doing here?”
“We kissed. And what do you mean, ‘what am I doing here?’ It’s my birthday after party! Besides, one-night stands are for 20-year olds,” I say trying to act mockingly mature.
“Well, look at you,” my friend says with a smile and trying to match my condescending tone.
And then, another text: “My neighbor just came by to complain about the noise. You were right; it was too loud. I guess next time we’re going to have to be a little bit more quiet. Happy bday Boy Toy.”