Bars have always been a refuge for the down and out so why should I deprive myself of a safe harbor?
Last night…early evening or late afternoon, actually…I retreated to the bar and quickly the accumulated bad mood melted away. (Red wine.) People started flowing into the bar as if a gentle current were carrying them there…and one by one, sometimes in twos and threes, they pooled up in little clusters of the carefree. And me there all alone to enjoy it was just what I needed.
Then a rather happy girl sat next to me. Perky as a kid. Obviously…or so it seemed…she was meeting someone, probably a group of someones, and she had her extra happy face on for the occasion. She ordered a drink. Jameson Irish Whiskey. And we both sat there watching, smiling, nodding that hum-dee-dum nod people do when they are nodding alone at the bar, and drank our drinks. Finally I got around to saying hi…
I’ll fast forward and maybe fill in middle ground details later, but for now just some details needed to jump ahead.
First, she was not meeting a group or a friend or anyone. She had just stopped in for a drink or two. Second, she really is one of the crazy people who are big smile happy for no apparent reason. She tolerated me quite well.
I commented about smells in my apartment. Always a good thing to bring up with a woman you just met. (Some of us are single for a reason…in fact most of us are.) But I explained that I thought perhaps my place was haunted and the smells were the haunting. Of course I don’t really take that thought too seriously, but my new friend…she was all over it!
“Why yes!” she said. “Of course your place might be haunted!”
I explained that the odors were not of anything you would expect like rotting meat or pits of sulfur and she just took it all very seriously, leaning forward nodding intently to push me along.
“It smells like boiling pasta and sometimes like an old man’s sofa.”
That didn’t throw her off one bit. She seemed to understand and took it all in stride and quickly rattled off advice, references for ghost chasers and recommended paranormal workshops. Apparently she thought she had found a kindred spirit. She went on and on and on. I started regretting the random thought that led us to this topic.
Then, out of the blue, she commented on her breasts. A nice wholesome looking girl and it occurred to her that she might like to point out her breasts. She did, in fact, have very nice breasts; not sideshow freakishly large breasts, but plain and simple nice breasts. I hadn’t really noticed, but now all I could do was glance at the firm things and agree. It seemed that she had just realized her breasts were rather attractive and wanted to talk about it. We agreed to agree about the boobs and that was about it.
One more quick drink and a promise to look for each other again at the bar sometime soon and the night ended with a friendly handshake. That was just good enough. No need to get to know her better and ruin a good thing. Things have been tough enough as is. This was a wonderful little break from an otherwise dismal week. I’ll just keep my eyes open for her the next time I am at that bar.