"I'll have a glass of Martini, please." I smile sweetly at the bartender with amusingly large biceps and long hair. I wouldn't be surprised if I see him in a band playing drums somewhere in a basement. A piece of soft upbeat jazz music started playing from the corner stereos as I brought my glass to my lips to taste a wonderfully cold and crisp Martini. I relaxed as it slowly eased down on my throat and reveled in its burning sensation.
Minutes turned into an hour later with three empty glasses right in front of me. The music grew louder now as the crowd started to subside. I encircled the edge of my goblet with my middle finger in a few strokes until I hear a clear note. An A# maybe? Or a Gb. "Excuse me." A gentleman appeared next to my right which halted my attempt to a singing glass. He smiles widely. Showing off a perfect set of white teeth. His jaw must be tired from that God-awful wide grin. "Yes?"
"I was just wondering if you'd let me buy you a drink." He quietly asked. I caught the long-haired bartender smirked at the question. "I'm capable of buying my drinks, thank you." I smiled at him. Trying not to roll my eyes in the process.
"That's the third man you've sent away with disappointment in their faces." I looked up to his name tag. 'Joe'. Sounds like a perfect name for a bartender, to be honest. And I don't know why I just judged him by his name. But he looks like a nice fellow. "Unless they were the date that I was waiting for an hour now, I will keep flicking them away." He grabbed a towel and wiped something on the counter. "If you don't take one of them, madam I will." He says playfully and winks at me. I laughed. Louder than I normally would have. Then covered my mouth and ignored the heads that turned in our direction. That was Martini's laugh, I can guarantee. So Joe's gay. I suddenly felt at ease.
The double glass door swung opened and a woman walked in. No, strode in. Her hair falls subtle waves of dark down to her shoulder blades. She wore an off-white top and a blazer. A leathered pencil-cut skirt. And finishing it off with a four inches high heeled in the darkest of purple. She scanned the restaurant and landed on me. She gave a faint wave and offered a radiant smile on her lips in a dark shade of red lipstick. Suddenly I had to remind myself how to breathe. I looked behind me to see no one waving back at her. Is she smiling at me? "Well looks like you're in a good mood today, Ms Elena," Joe spoke. She sighed happily and settled on an empty barstool two down from mine. The scent of her perfume breezed into my nostrils like intoxicating alcohol. Okay, that's a very weird description. The realization was late for me. But she was smiling at Joe. Not me. I blushed at the sudden embarrassment. If I waved back, I would've died. 'Presumptuous, this one.' Engraved in my death stone. "I'll have a Pinot Noir." She says.
"Does that mean you got the promotion?" Joe said wide-eyed. "That's right. And you know what that means." Joe made a little triumphant pose. If that doesn't scream gay, I don't know what will. "Say no more. That's why we save Pinot Noir for special occasions like this." She then turned her head to me. I must've been staring since the moment she walked in.
Get a hold of yourself.
But I mean, who could blame me? This woman's a complete head-turner. She smiles. I looked behind me again just to make sure that that one was for me. She chuckles. Shit, what am I doing? She bit her lower lip as she shook from her blazer. A strong toned arm was now in display in beautiful olive skin that complimented her dark brown hair. I took a mental note on my to-do list. 'Start lifting weights.' Oh and 'buy more hair products.
"Hi." She smiles. Not too wide but brightly. "We're sort of in a celebratory mode here." She gestured in her drinks. "I overheard. Congratulations on the promotion." I replied. "Thank you."
Joe came back to our station and turned to me. "You're looking at the new dean at Kenyon College." At that, she sat up straight and proudly. "I like the sound of that." She says with confidence. The kind that I'd kill to have. "I'm Elena, by the way." She offered her hand. I reached out to grab it but failed. She laughs. "You know what, I'm coming over." She got up from her stool and walked a few steps to mine. "You don't mind if I take this seat, do you?" I opened my mouth to answer but closed again. She didn't wait for a response and took the seat right next to me. "Sure."
Oh look, I can talk again.
"I'm Grace," I said to her and held my hand. Because this time, I can reach it. Our hands made contact. Woah. What was that chill?
"Are you waiting for someone? I can go back to my seat."
"No, don't go," I said rather quickly. Then kicked myself inwardly at how quickly I answered. "I mean...I got stood up. I should've known."
"She's been waiting for.." Joe looked up at the antique yet modern-looking wall clock behind us. "An hour now. But she's not easy, this one. More than three guys have offered to buy her a drink and not one of them got an inch closer to her." An old man from the other end of the bar called for his attention and he reluctantly moved. "That's his loss." Elena turned to me and sipped from her drink. She looked down on my own three lonely empty glasses. "You've got yourself a little party for one over there." I sighed. "Yeah, well.. Who was I kidding? I should've left when it's been 15 minutes and he's not here yet."
"That would've been a shame. But for what it's worth, I think you're really beautiful." There goes that smile again. And I felt a flush making its way up my neck and settled in my cheeks. I shot my hands up in the air as if I was in school wanting to go to the restroom. "Can I have more Martinis over here, please?"