Feeling Good - The Story of Sam & Henry

Chapter 4 - Second Rule of the Tao of Steve

I looked at my watch for like the 100th time. Had I made enough of an appearance at this dinner that I could now make a quiet exit without causing too much notice? Honestly, the only redeeming quality to the evening had been the food. It was fucking amazing. I'd had some sort of pork chop covered in the most delicious cherry sauce. It was probably the best meal I'd had in months, but since I lived on microwave burritos and ramen, this was a pretty low bar to hurdle. It was 8:00. We'd finished our entrees and were waiting for dessert, which was a choice between ice cream and chocolate lava cake. Honestly, I'm pretty sure that I'd eaten three pork chops, not to mention a shit ton of appetizers, I didn't really have room for dessert... but if the same person made the chocolate lava cake also made the cherry sauce, maybe I'd have to stick around to check it out.

I looked back at my watch, and then up at the speaker in the front of the room, who was droning on about some research project they were working on. I sat back in my chair and willed myself to relax. Unbidden, her face sprang to mind and I immediately started thinking about our car ride from the club to my suite at the Canyons...
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"Ok, ok, Blue, you're not a lawyer or a real estate agent. But what about me? What is it that I do for a living?"

I looked her up and down. She was small, but athletic, and honestly, she had amazing arms. She was wearing a jacket now, but I recalled that her shoulders had been covered by what looked like peacock feathers. I could tell by her haircut and her earrings that she likely didn't work in a professional office... although, it did look like all of her tattoos were fairly discrete and could be hidden if she wore long sleeves.

"Let me see your hands," I said. She hesitated a little, giving me a sly look. "Oh come on," I said, "fair is fair, you got to examine mine."

She exhaled audibly but relented, putting both of her hands in mine. They were small but I wouldn't call them delicate. She had small scars here and there on her fingers, wore no nail polish and kept her fingernails cut short. She wore a ring on her right pinky that was all squiggly and curly and two silver rings on each of her thumbs, but no other jewelry, not even a watch. I wondered for a minute if she could be a musician. She'd had great rhythm on the dance floor and her hands looked really strong.

"You're a lead guitarist in a punk rock emo band," I said, letting go of her hands.

"A punk rock emo band? Seriously? You disappoint me Blue Eyes, first the Princess Bride and now emo? Maybe I should have this driver pull over so that you can go home and play darts by yourself."

"Ok, ok," I said, "so not emo... maybe New Soul? Or Heavy Metal?"

"You're getting colder man, like, arctic tundra cold."

"Well, you're too short to be a model, but you are, uh, very beautiful, so I imagine you could be like a short model."

"A short model? Is that a thing?" she'd asked, "do I get to model all of the capri pants and the crop tops or something?" She was laughing for real and it only made her more attractive, she had the most beautiful smile.

"Well, I can tell that you're educated, you're too clever to be a regular club-goer. But the tattoos are throwing me. Where could you work and have all those piercings and a back tattoo..." I narrowed my eyes to look closely at her face, looking for details about how she spent her days.

"I can tell that you're used to being around men, you're too comfortable, too at ease. Either you've got brothers or you work in a profession that is dominated by men, because you exude confidence."

"Touché, that's well observed. I have three older brothers and I work with a ton of men. Ok smarty pants, what else?" she had folded her arms in front of her, which inadvertently had pushed her breasts together creating a lovely bit of cleavage in the front of her billowy red blouse.