…it hit him:
*if he stayed here he would get nowhere*
#But what if he gets caught? He can’t get up now someone will notice. He should just stay here.#
*But what if he stays, he will be here all night and what would the point of that be?*
He sat there a mulled this over as he watched people enter and leave the golden elevator banks on the other end of the lobby. The bar was now officially crawling with people. The Band took a break; all that was audible was a large collection of small talk.
A group of business men got up, Ted looked at all the empty high balls, tumblers, and shot glasses that had accumulated on their table. The lipstick smudge on a champaign flute left behind by one of their female companions. The cigarette butt floating in the melted ice leftover from a smooth golden scotch. A collection of cocktail stirs neatly stacked on drink napkin. A woman, a golden haired woman in a golden dress cut down the side of her leg, her full creamy white leg extending to a foot arched into a pair of strapped heels a foot kicking idly in the air as she sat on a stool at the bar nursing a very tall, very green martini with a speared fire red cherry.
Oddly enough, she was alone. Well, alone meaning there were three empty stools to her left and all the stools to her right had been dragged two feet closer to the other end of the bar to watch the television.
His heart pounding, he got up and walked over to the stool right next to her. She had her back to him and even after he sat down she remained undisturbed. A rocks glass was set in front of him.
“Your drink sir”
Ted half smiled and looked up at the ceiling. In his two or so hours here he hadn’t noticed the mirror. It was an odd choice for a bar such as this, where everything had an immaculate deep polish and a broad minimal almost sterile feel to it. Yet one look into the mirror and all you saw were dirty bar mats. The contents of the trashcan, a stray cocktail napkin. The floor drains.
He watched the woman next to him. She opened her purse and removed a compact, opened it and gazed into it very intently checking her makeup. She then replaced it into her bag. He was surprised that the he could see so clearly into it. He could even read the label on her cigarette pack.
He watched her, but he also watched the group of men at the end of the bar who had become five times more interesting to watch from this particular angle. He also watched them because she was watching them; she had been since he had sat down next to her. He watched as she put the unlit cigarette to her mouth, and asked the bartender who at the moment was holding court with them, for a light. This broke up the action as he smiled and walked over removing a small golden torch from his pocket.
Ted watched the top of the bartender’s head approach, hold the blue flame and her lean in with her head facing ever so slightly to the men at the end of the bar. With the cigarette lit and her drink replaced he watched as the top of the bartender's head walked back to his point of origin.
And the woman in gold get up from her seat, his gaze trailing slowly downward from the ceiling to her backside walking the length of the bar to a plush couch at the other end. The band started up a new set and soon Ted was drowned in Jazz http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04g1aFNoBZs. Not a bad thing, but not what he had in mind.
He picked up his rocks glass, which was sweating profusely having not been touched since it set in front of him, and took a huge tug on it. Oh my god.
Pure Gin.
He looked at the bartender who gave him the slightest of winks and turned his attention back to his other patrons. The bar had returned to life, it seems only when people have to shout to communicate that it interests them to move around mingle.
But not Ted, he was staying put, which was fine because everyone was coming to him anyway. Brand new people: in tailored suits, in polo shirts, in blazers. But also ladies, ladies in different shapes and colors: green skinny, blue tall, orange petite. All drinking equally colorful drinks that sparkled has the house lights dimmed into neon. While it remained loud and crowded, this also brought an element of security. He could hide out in the open, at least for the moment.
Before in the ceiling mirror you could see everything the light touched, now it only reflected anything the light smacked and disregarded the rest. The beat picked up and the women started to dance, this dragging the occasional man from his seat. He downed the rest of his gin, and felt his head swoon. The night wore on.
#But what if he gets caught? He can’t get up now someone will notice. He should just stay here.#
*But what if he stays, he will be here all night and what would the point of that be?*
He sat there a mulled this over as he watched people enter and leave the golden elevator banks on the other end of the lobby. The bar was now officially crawling with people. The Band took a break; all that was audible was a large collection of small talk.
A group of business men got up, Ted looked at all the empty high balls, tumblers, and shot glasses that had accumulated on their table. The lipstick smudge on a champaign flute left behind by one of their female companions. The cigarette butt floating in the melted ice leftover from a smooth golden scotch. A collection of cocktail stirs neatly stacked on drink napkin. A woman, a golden haired woman in a golden dress cut down the side of her leg, her full creamy white leg extending to a foot arched into a pair of strapped heels a foot kicking idly in the air as she sat on a stool at the bar nursing a very tall, very green martini with a speared fire red cherry.
Oddly enough, she was alone. Well, alone meaning there were three empty stools to her left and all the stools to her right had been dragged two feet closer to the other end of the bar to watch the television.
His heart pounding, he got up and walked over to the stool right next to her. She had her back to him and even after he sat down she remained undisturbed. A rocks glass was set in front of him.
“Your drink sir”
Ted half smiled and looked up at the ceiling. In his two or so hours here he hadn’t noticed the mirror. It was an odd choice for a bar such as this, where everything had an immaculate deep polish and a broad minimal almost sterile feel to it. Yet one look into the mirror and all you saw were dirty bar mats. The contents of the trashcan, a stray cocktail napkin. The floor drains.
He watched the woman next to him. She opened her purse and removed a compact, opened it and gazed into it very intently checking her makeup. She then replaced it into her bag. He was surprised that the he could see so clearly into it. He could even read the label on her cigarette pack.
He watched her, but he also watched the group of men at the end of the bar who had become five times more interesting to watch from this particular angle. He also watched them because she was watching them; she had been since he had sat down next to her. He watched as she put the unlit cigarette to her mouth, and asked the bartender who at the moment was holding court with them, for a light. This broke up the action as he smiled and walked over removing a small golden torch from his pocket.
Ted watched the top of the bartender’s head approach, hold the blue flame and her lean in with her head facing ever so slightly to the men at the end of the bar. With the cigarette lit and her drink replaced he watched as the top of the bartender's head walked back to his point of origin.
And the woman in gold get up from her seat, his gaze trailing slowly downward from the ceiling to her backside walking the length of the bar to a plush couch at the other end. The band started up a new set and soon Ted was drowned in Jazz http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04g1aFNoBZs. Not a bad thing, but not what he had in mind.
He picked up his rocks glass, which was sweating profusely having not been touched since it set in front of him, and took a huge tug on it. Oh my god.
Pure Gin.
He looked at the bartender who gave him the slightest of winks and turned his attention back to his other patrons. The bar had returned to life, it seems only when people have to shout to communicate that it interests them to move around mingle.
But not Ted, he was staying put, which was fine because everyone was coming to him anyway. Brand new people: in tailored suits, in polo shirts, in blazers. But also ladies, ladies in different shapes and colors: green skinny, blue tall, orange petite. All drinking equally colorful drinks that sparkled has the house lights dimmed into neon. While it remained loud and crowded, this also brought an element of security. He could hide out in the open, at least for the moment.
Before in the ceiling mirror you could see everything the light touched, now it only reflected anything the light smacked and disregarded the rest. The beat picked up and the women started to dance, this dragging the occasional man from his seat. He downed the rest of his gin, and felt his head swoon. The night wore on.
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6 comments:
Write more, bitch!
I mean it, bitch!
In nicer terms, please continue this story so i don't have to wait forever for the next installment.
Please....
What was I talking about? Hmmm... nevermind.
Oh yeah... write more of the story.
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