Turn Me Bad

”Convenient?“ Violet asked, surprised at the notion, having always had an impression of bikers as being in love with their rides.

”Yeah,“ he continued. ”You saw how it got me right to the door there.”

”There’s one problem there, however.”

”What’s that?”

”Everyone knows you’re here,“ she said, managing a smile and hoping the comment was warmly taken. To her delight, he smiled a wide grin and she even felt herself flushing a little that it was aimed in her direction. Considering his confidence, she was still poised for some kind of arrogant self-centeredness to surface, but so far what she received seemed to contradict what was on show. Having expected a short exchange, she was astounded to find that he was prepared to have a prolonged conversation with her.

Didn’t he have babes to gather?

“You’re right there,“ he replied. ”I guess I have to be used to that.”

He appeared to enjoy the observation. Violet thought he would probably then disappear into the crowd and find some trendy people to mingle with, but instead he said, “My name’s Benjamin, by the way – or Ben if you prefer.”

”Nice to meet you, Benjamin. I’m Violet,“ she responded, still wondering why he was speaking to her.

”Violet?“ he replied, lifting up the whisky that had just been placed down and signaling that he wanted to touch glasses with her. ”Cheers,“ he said, as the glasses clunked together, then Violet followed his lead and took a sip. Everything this guy did seemed so natural; it was not just that he looked the part, but he seemed to have a timing for smoothness. Then he said, ”That’s a beautiful name. When I was a child, I used to wish I could have violet colored eyes. So I guess I always wanted to stand out.”

If most men had offered her such a line she would have probably said, “Nice try, creep,” and walked away. But the way this Benjamin said it, more like a thoughtful side comment than the kind of come on that included raised eyebrows and a wink, made it seem sweet rather than crass. She found herself believing the story, though partly because she still couldn’t quite believe that he would be interested in flirting with her.

”Are you… here for the music?“ she asked, really having no idea what to say other than ask a very obvious and boring question (for sure there would be no competing with him).

”Yeah, sure,“ he answered. ”It sounded like the place to be, so it was good to finish for the day.”

”You don’t know this bar then?“ Violet resisted cringing on realizing this line was essentially another version of ”Do you come here often?” but Benjamin didn’t appear to be wary of the potential for awkward conversation at all.

”No, I’m working here briefly,“ he told her. ”Some of the guys I was with today mentioned there was this concert going on when I asked what there was to do around here. Good timing to be in Palmdale, I guess.”

”So you’re meeting them here?”

”No, they couldn’t make it. They were moaning about having to be at home for the kids, so we have to have as much fun as possible at their expense,“ he added with a cheeky grin.

”That’s one way of looking at it, I guess.”

”How about you?“ he asked. ”Are you meeting up with friends here?”

”No,“ said Violet, shaking her head. ”I, erm… I don’t have any pretty blonde friends to introduce you too, I’m afraid. Otherwise I certainly would, Benjamin.”

For the first time then, he opened his mouth to reply but paused. Clearly he was unsure what to make of her comment, though she would have loved to be able to guess in exactly what context. She did wonder if the suggestion had offended him – even though he would have been pretty thin-skinned in her book – but instead he collected himself with a smile and ordered another whisky.

”So, Violet,“ he then said, “we’re both here on our own. What do you say we go and find somewhere to hang out and watch this band? Looks to me like they’re just about to get started.”

”Are you sure I won’t be cramping your style?“ she asked.

Another pause in his response. There was something about her he couldn’t quite figure out for sure, but almost everything about him that she couldn’t figure out.

”I’m sure,“ he replied, enigmatically. Was that the first time he was not quite sure what to say?

For her part, Violet was not quite sure what to make of the whole exchange and the temporary friend she had made. She agreed they should head on over to where the crowd was gathering and see what they made of the imminent music. The evening had grown warm and, though there was some excitement about the performances about to commence, the atmosphere was still very laid back and inviting.

It had all the makings of a fun evening, but Violet told herself not to get carried away or think much of this Benjamin’s request to be in her company. She was the first person he had spoken to there and, as charismatic as he was, she imagined him to be the kind of guy who would just gather one person after another as they went through the evening. Perhaps he was really as good natured as he seemed when it was just the two of them speaking, but she still imagined he would probably barely remember her name by the end of the evening when it came to waving her goodbye. By which time he would probably be surrounded by numerous guys and gals and she would be relegated to the fringes.

This did not mean she was not grateful for arriving there at the same time as him. Having been nervous about entering the place at all, Violet now felt like she fit in – or at least looked like she did – and so she would have that evening out that would serve as an extended middle finger to all of Caitlin’s jabs after all. Let the vindictive braggart see if she preferred Violet looking like she was having a life to not having one.

Deciding, therefore, to forget about what Benjamin’s real motivations were for accompanying her, she thought just to have a good time while it remained possible.

After applauding the first song by a melodic rock band which went down really well and really brought the crowd to life, Violet finally got to the bottom of what the whole festival was in aid of thanks to Benjamin’s insight.

”There’s a label that organizes this kind of event for newly-signed and developing groups,“ he explained. ”I’ve been to a couple before and they’re always really neat. When you think about it, all the greats had to start out practicing in low key shows; The Beatles, The Stones, they all developed their craft somewhere.”