Romance At A College Bar

 It was close to the end of the spring semester, the time when students hang on to the college nightlife before they part for the summer and ignore their academic responsibilities. My roommates had planned for this night out at the beginning of the week, trekking through the days with the hope that this night would make up for all the all-nighters and early morning exams that they complained had taken over our young adult lives. I would have preferred a classier night in the city. 

The air inside the bar was thick and heavy, and the only source of light came from neon signs and camera flashes. I followed my friends as we rounded the bar, giving our obligatory hellos to anyone we even remotely know. The floor was sticky and the walls dirty and there indeed were many people. A group of fraternity boys and dressed-up girls danced off-rhythm near the DJ. Chairs were pushed to the side allowing for standing room only at the bar– behind it staffed two bartenders whose exhaustion and frustration while serving their customers were evident. 

I met James around midnight. It began with a look across the room. We had both become tired of the blaring synthetic music. It was as if we looked for a place of solace in this room of inebriated students– a place that we found in each other. His eyes were magnets, but my shyness was the repulsion that kept me from walking toward him–until he started walking toward me. I left my friends without a word and met him in the middle. He introduced himself with a grin, speaking with such sweetness that made me feel comfortable and engaged. We both laughed at how our friends usually drag each other out to this bar but still have never felt fit for this place. 

“I never seem to win with them,” I joke. 

He smiled and took my hand. “Me neither, but I am glad to have found you,” he conceded before leading me toward the bar. We seemed to have skipped the small talk and asked each other about our hometowns and what we planned on doing in life. He beamed when I told him about my interest in wildlife conservation. He then tells me about his plan to work in family medicine at his own clinic. I have not the slightest reason how I could feel like jumping up and down inside while still staying at peace when I talk to him. Nobody is in the room anymore. 

The night ended later than I had planned but earlier than I desired. My friend grabbed me by the arm and asked for my aid in taking her overly intoxicated roommate home. I saw his disappointment as he realized I had to slip away for the rest of the evening. 

“I hope to see you soon,” I said. 

He smiled. “You will. Goodnight Hailey. Get home safe.”

His gentle demeanor and kind face replayed in my head. I thought of how foreign and unprecedented the night was and yet how James felt so familiar and safe. As I passed through the door, I stepped out of my own world and realized I needed to escort my friend’s roommate back to her dorm. I looked out into the street, once bustling with peers and cars, finally resting under a quiet cloudless, starless night. 

*This short story of a sparking romance at a college bar was inspired by the stylistic choices of James Baldwin’s writing, known for its jazz-like flow, imagery, lengthy diction, and detailed human emotion. A particular scene in chapter three of Giovanni’s Room was examined. Here, Baldwin writes of David’s time at a bar in Paris. He describes the space, the people, and the interaction he has with Giovanni in great detail.  He delves into the consciousness of David to reveal sensory details and inner thoughts.