Fishing for Mermaids

Mystical Flying Me

I can't escape you. That closed smile greets me as I reach for the last frozen dinner. It's your flyer, still dangling from the freezer door. "The Mystical Flying Circus will be in YOUR area this Friday, Saturday and Sunday," the flyer reads, "Don't miss out on the magic of our extraordinary flying acrobats and trapeze walkers."

I can feel the outline of the ticket in my front pocket, and I'm not sure why I haven't just thrown it away already. I've tried, but every time I take that damn ticket out of my wallet, I get stuck and tuck it into my jeans to forget about for a while. Maybe you'll come back. Then how could I tell you that I threw away the ticket to your show?

Four months is long enough to still be hanging onto you. It's time to start moving on, isn't it? You probably already have, knowing how you charm people. You smooth your magenta streaked hair from your shoulder, curl your lips into a sideways smile, and ask whoever you're with if they're buying the next drink, like you did when we first met a year ago. Typical Lara.

"Got a light?" you asked, dangling a cigarette between your long, slender fingers.

That was the first time I had ever gone into that bar, and only because I won a gift card from a raffle at work. It was Bar 9, remember? It was new then, and still is the first and only hip bar in this former steeltown, following the trend of slot casinos and racing tracks popping up around the area.

"No, sorry, I don't smoke."

"Oh right, I keep forgetting that everyone outside of L.A. doesn't smoke."

"L.A.? No wonder I didn't recognize you. Why would you ever leave anywhere as exciting as L.A.?"

"I'm a performer. There's a new circus in town, kind of like Cirque-du-Soleil and I've been signed on as the lead female acrobat. I was auditioning in L.A. for several movies, but these people found me-I was doing some acrobatic work out there-and begged me to sign on, so I came." You smiled and took my hand to shake it. I could feel the electricity flowing between us even then. "I'm Lara. Lara Hill."

"I'm George. It's such a pleasure. I hardly ever meet anyone from out of town, definitely not any acrobats or actresses."

I think it was then that you asked me to buy you a drink, and after a few more you offered to spend the night. I was hooked.

Being with you, just standing next to your beauty and your talent, made me feel like I did something right. In my mind, you could carry me with you through the air: Flying forty feet above everyone else, looking like the stars. I felt important and powerful.

In a few short weeks, I was the man officially dating the star performer of the Mystical Flying Circus, and everyone asked about you. They wanted to know what you were like, if you had taught me any acrobatic tricks, and of course all the guys from the office wanted to know if your profession made you any good in bed. I told them that a gentleman never tells, but you were the best I've ever had.

From the moment I met you, I never missed any of your shows. I always thought you were so brave, swinging from bar to bar, nearly dropping before latching onto an outstretched hand at the last moment. How could I miss your show now? Now that you left me.

After work-which consists of staring at a computer screen for 8 hours, trying not to hear the lady in the next cubicle over smacking as she eats her swiss cheese sandwiches and signing up for as many "Free Get-a-way" contests as I can-I dress myself to go to the Mystical Flying Circus, the ticket for tonight suspended once more in my pocket, and head to Tavern.

It's the kind of place you never let me take you to. Tavern is one of those bars people go to if they are looking to drink away a problem or catch the game when they're trying to stay away from the wife and kids. It's not showy and probably not even up to code. It's the only place on the block that doesn't look revamped and trendy, smushed between a Panera's and a Starbucks. It's the kind of place you said only low lives hang out in. I don't know, I guess you're right. I'm a regular.