Tales from the Bar

“Do you want another drink?”

“Sure.”

I’m left sitting in a somewhat empty bar. I like this bar because its glows red and collects the most random and diverse group I’ve ever seen. As long as I get a table, I’m happy; I get to sit back, sip my drinks and absorb the world around me.

“Here’s your drink.” K sets the drink and down and slides into the horse-shoe booth. “That guy up there thinks you’re cute.”

“What?!” I can’t help but laugh, mostly because I think she’s kidding.

“I’m serious. I was ordering our drinks and that guy was like, ‘your friend is real cute.’ So I told him that he should come over and talk to you.”

“WHAT?!? Which guy? Is he even cute?”

“Kind of, he’s short. Its that guy over there,” she cranes her neck and I try to follow her glance, “see, the black guy with the hat on. He’s not bad, just kind of short. He said that he was too nervous so he was going to have a couple beers first.”

I sigh and think, “Why me? Why can’t an attractive, tall (or at least my height.. okay, a little taller), man think I’m cute?” I guess it wouldn’t matter anyway. What are the chances I’m going to meet and fall in love with a guy from a bar? The thought of this makes me laugh because of the irony; parents met in a bar and were married 3 months later. They’ve been married for 30 years now. I’m not sure how much longer that is going to last, but 30 years is pretty significant.

Time passes and the bar fills up. The red glow turns to glisten as the temperature rises and dancing bodies heat up. K is getting antsy and wants to get up and either dance or go outside. I, too, want to get up, but I don’t want to leave our booth. It is now so packed that all the tables are full and it’s nearly impossible to walk around. As we’re discussing our options I see a part forming the in red sea, but I can’t see what’s causing the miraculous separation. Suddenly a short, black man is leaning over our table towards me. He puts his hand out and introduces himself, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the loud music. I tell him my name and he obviously can’t hear me because he leans in, putting one hand on my shoulder while holding the other hand in the longest shake I’ve ever engaged in.

“Hey, yo, I’ve been watching you from across the room and I think you’re pretty cute.”

Oh, Lord, save me.

“But I get a little nervous so I had to have a couple beers before I came and talked to you. So, if I say anything stupid, I’m sorry, I don’t normally drink this much.” He pulls back to look at me for a reaction and I smile and say something inaudible. I could have said, “go screw yourself” and he would have kept talking and acting suave. “So don’t leave with out talking to me, okay. I want to get your number.” He finally lets go of my hand and I smile as he walks away.

“Alright, K, let’s get outside for a bit, or dance.” She laughs and we willingly give up our seats.