I haven’t talked to Dawn in a week. I haven’t even been downstairs to ignore her, and I’m not even sure why. But then, she hasn’t bothered to talk to me either, so it seems like we’re mad at each other. The last time we even uttered a word to one another was the day after I returned from my sick leave and I brought her the blouse that she left at my place.
Tonight is the building’s annual Remember November Ball on the South Street Seaport’s Zephyr cruiser. After last year, I swore I’d never show up again, but I changed my mind, somewhat hoping that DJ would show up. Don’t tell her though, ‘cause I don’t want her thinking that I like her or any bullshit like that.
It was near 8PM when a group of us guys from the Getty office were crowded in a huddle at the end of Pier 17, waiting to board the boat. I laughed absently at the idle conversation we were having while inadvertently searching the boardwalk for Dawn’s tall frame. Instead, I spotted her boss heading in my direction.
“Good evening, Justin,” she whispered heavily, fingering the collar of my coat.
“Good evening, Liz.”
“Save me a dance, handsome.”
“Yeah, sure,” I replied, noticing the silhouette of Dawn’s head approaching on the passenger’s side of a big, dark blue Dodge Durango. I couldn’t make out exactly who was driving, but I was sure that it wasn’t a woman. “Hold that thought, Liz.” I moved out of the vicinity of the group and tried to inch towards the street while watching her get out of the car “ thankfully, alone.
She swayed towards where I stood, wearing a navy blue suit with silver pinstripes that didn’t become noticeable until she walked past me. She glanced at me knowingly, but didn’t say a word. Hold the fuck up. Why is she walking past me?
“Hey, Justin,” said a voice to my left.
I turned to see Sharry and another woman whose face I recognized, but whose name escaped me. “Hey.”
“You look great tonight.”
“Thanks,” I answered, my gaze following Dawn to where she started to get onto the boat, which would momentarily be departing.
Another voice called after me as I walked to the end of the pier. “Hi, Justin” was all I heard on my path to wherever Dawn had finally stopped. I don’t want to talk to her, but I’ll be damned if I let her fuckin’ ignore me without her knowing that I’m ignoring her, too.
I made it onto the swanky boat, trying to maintain my balance when the floor tipped with my steps. Just my fuckin’ luck, before I could get to the second level of the triple-tier cruiser, I was stopped by a group of women that seem to be part of my goddamn fan club tonight. “Hey, Justin, I’m saving a seat for you at my table,” one of the women said. If I’m not mistaken, she’s the blonde that works in the mailroom on the first floor, but who the hell really knows. Better yet, who cares?
“Thanks,” I replied, peering behind her to the staircase. If I could just get past her, I know Dawn went upstairs, damn it. “Could you hold that seat at the table?” I added.
“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll be right over there,” she smiled.
“Yeah. Uh, what’s your name again?”
“Leslie.”
“Right. Leslie. Stay here, and I’ll be back.”
“Don’t take too long,” she said, waving as I departed to the steps.
Just as I turned around, another broad coming off of the staircase caught me. “Hey Justin.”
“Hey. Uh, Jenny, right?”
“Jamie,” she smiled.
“Right. Jamie. If you’ll excuse me…”
“Sure. Hey, when you come back down, how ‘bout I buy you a drink?”
“Whatever you want,” I smiled back, removing myself from her path. Finally, I made it upstairs to where the dance floor was staged. I thought the first level was crowded, but the second was fucking packed. It wasn’t a huge boat, but I’d planned to be able to sit my ass down once we took off floating down the Hudson River. “I’m never gonna fuckin’ find her,” I said to myself.
“She’s upstairs,” a new voice said behind me.
I spun on my heel to find Joey grinning at me. “Hey, man.”
“You look like you’ve had a rough night already,” he laughed.
“Man, who knew that this many hoes worked in our building?”
“Apparently you did. You’ve fucked them all, haven’t you?”
“No way. I don’t even know half these bitches.”
“Well they know you.”
I rolled my eyes at the thought and looked at my watch. “So you said Dawn is upstairs, right?”
“Yeah, she was sitting at a table by herself, too.”
“Did she look pissed off or anything?”
“Nah, she looked kinda happy actually.”
What the fuck is she so happy about? “Oh.”
“She looks good, too, man.”
Yeah, no shit. “I didn’t notice.”
“Stop kidding yourself and go talk to her,” he prodded.
“Well if she’s so happy, why should I go fuck that up?”
“Because that’s what you always do. Go on up there, man.”
Eh, he’s right. I handed Joey my coat, figuring that he’d be on his way to the coat check sooner or later, and I swallowed my pride to make it to the top of the boat. Just as Joe had informed me, she was up there, sitting at a table. But she most certainly wasn’t alone. It would be totally out of character for me to say that my heart dropped when I saw her engaged in lively conversation with Alex from Accounting, but… well you get the point.
I figure two can play this game, so I grabbed the nearest woman and sat her down with me, about two tables behind Dawn and Alex. “Just pretend we’re talking,” I said to the woman, anxiously peering at the table ahead of us.
The woman, whose big, dark blonde bouffant-style hairdo was blocking my line of vision, giggled at my unfunny comment. “Nice to see you again, Justin.”
“Do I know you?”
“Yeah? It’s Natasha from the 4th floor.”
Who? What? “Oh, yeah. Natasha.”
“So how have you been?”
“Could you do me a favor and make your hair smaller? I can’t see the woman behind you.”
She turned to see what my attention was so focused on before smiling back at me in an awkward, nervous manner. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I really can’t see.”
“Well, she seems kind of busy. You could, you know, pay attention to who’s in front of you,” she stated sharply. She continued to talk, but I basically ignored her for the most part, not giving a fuck about whatever it is Natasha felt the urge to lecture me on.
“Hey, you wanna dance?” I interrupted.
She finally stopped yapping and gave a bashful smile. “There’s no room to dance up here.”
“Yeah, I was thinking we could go downstairs.” Where the normal people exist, I hope.
She stood up and silently waited to grab my hand and guide me down to the second level. There, the sound of Stevie Wonder pulsated through the boat’s speakers while co-workers swayed to the beat, acting as though their relationships were more intricate than ‘Hi-and-Bye.’
Natasha and I danced for two consecutive songs while she rambled my ear off about her cat, before I told her that I needed a break. The fact of the matter is, I saw DJ come downstairs and escape to the outside of the boat where most people stood to puff on cigarettes.
I relieved myself of Natalie “ or Natasha? Well I left the bitch and went outside to where Dawn stood, gazing at the water rippling past us. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
She hardly glanced at me before replying, “Hi to you, too, Justin.”
“Stop being a jerk and answer me.”
“Why are you talking to me?”
“I asked you a question.”
“Dawn James.”
“What?”
“You asked me who I thought I was. I’m pretty sure that that’s me. I’m Dawn James, who’s tired of Justin Timberlake’s bullshit.”
“Who was that that dropped you off at the pier?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Dawn, I’m fucking serious. Who was he?”
“Why, Justin? Why do you care? Why do you give a fuck who I’m with or what I’m doing?”
“Because I do. Why can’t you answer the fuckin’ question?”
“It was my brother, okay! It was my goddamn brother!”
“Dawn, you’re making a scene.”
“Justin, you’re making me sick.”
“If it was your brother, then why are you making such a big deal about answering me?”
“Because I don’t have to answer to you. What was that you said? You can’t tell me shit, because I don’t owe you shit. Isn’t that right? Because, and I quote, ‘you and me aren’t shit.’”
“Why are you acting like a bitch?” I retorted.
“You know, as often as you ask me that, you’d think by now that it’s not an act,” she answered, leaning over the railing of the boat.
There was a long, uncomfortable pause between us before I spoke again. “I don’t like when you act like this.”
“Justin, I’m standing here minding my business. Why don’t you try it?”
“Are you still mad about Sheila?”
“Her name is Sharry!” she yelled. “The girl’s fucking name is Sharry!”
“So it’s about her?”
“No, motherfucker. This shit is about you. You cannot keep projecting your faults onto other people. You can’t keep pushing people away with that horrible attitude and then all of a sudden become offended when they finally get sick of you! You have to stop with the fuckin’ hot and cold act, man. It’s confusing. It’s frustrating. It’s heartbreaking! God, open your heart, Justin. Open your fuckin’ eyes! Find a good woman to occupy your time and to keep in your life instead of constantly fucking with mine!” And by the end of her speech, she had stormed back inside to piss me off even more by dancing with another motherfucker.
I kept my distance for the majority of the song playing, mainly because I wasn’t really in the mood to dance to it, but as Dawn and her dancing partner, Paul, made their way closer to my wallflower position, I decided to take a stand “ well, a dance. “Move,” I said to Paul, tapping his shoulder.
“Don’t move,” she shot back to him.
“Paul, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll move.”
He quickly bid DJ adieu and scampered off leaving me to dance with her. “Justin, you have no right to”“
“Sorry,” I interrupted.
“What?”
“Sorry,” I repeated.
“You talkin’ to me?” she asked, sounding like DeNiro, though I doubt it was deliberate.
“Dawn “ DJ, I’m sorry.”
Be firm, be fair, be sure, beware
On your guard, take care while there’s such temptation
She nodded and I could tell that she was content to have received an apology from me. They only come about once a year, so it looks like she got lucky. “I’m sorry, too.” I could feel her muscles relax and she let her body rest against mine. Silently, we rocked back and forth to the resonance of the speakers playing Alicia Keys’s youthful voice singing her first song. “Justin, what are we doing here?” she asked softly.
One thing leads to another
Too late to run for cover
Falling…”I dunno, DJ,” I sighed. “Just dance.”
She’s much too close for comfort now
Lyrics: "Too Close For Comfort" - Frank Sinatra (Come Dance With Me)
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