Saturday, December 31, 2005

The Four Forty

When the door creaked we couldn't help turning around. Other than myself the only humans in the bar were Tyler, his wife Sara, and the bartender, whos snowy mountainstache and aloha shirt could have easily been counted as an additional person. She came in laughing with two men at her side. Both of them were clearly older and drunker than she was. Something was out of place. Pock-marked tire store guys didn't go out with girls like that. Maybe they did, and maybe that was part of the intrigue. I could tell she was intelligent; it was given, but not directly placeable. She had a big nose and you know what they say about girls with big noses. By this time my stare should have been obvious cubed. She didn't seem to care so I kept at it. I would have anyways. Cropduster was glossing the moment with a coat of Hollywood surrealism and reviving the jukebox from a long term bout with monotony. I forgot had forgotten how good that record was. If she was wearing any makeup, I couldn't tell. On top of my demanding definitions of evolved gift and talent, the belle was ringing with style - a combination that as far as I'm concerned can be hard to dig up, especially if you happen to spend a good amount of your time seeking it in dive bars. I wishfully figured the two rustic lads for brothers. Despite the forming crush, it was a logical guess. Tyler was talking to me, but I was snared. When she ordered a whiskey on the rocks I cracked a rib.

I've got this thing about heaven. See I don't believe in any conventional version of it, but I know exactly how I'd want it to be if I did. My references regarding it generally consist of me telling my friends about hypothetical things I'd do in certain social situations if certain parties or bars were located in heaven. So, after an hour or so of ping ponging glances off the pixie haired little sister, when brother number one put his arm around her shoulder, cupped her left breast and stuck his tongue down her mouth I ordered another round and retired to the clouds.

I approached the two of them slowly, casually lighting a cigarette while my sneakers click-clacked like boots across the linoleum floor. Their eyes were closed so they never saw it coming. I placed my index and middle finger in their unified mouths with rapid confidence, dividing their lips slowly by making a V. The man began slurring loudly. When the flapping swing came I extended my slobber covered hand, effortlessly swaying his brawl instigation and never breaking my stone-walled gaze. She looked at me, fathoms of brown eyes peeling in mine. I took a drag off my cigarette, exhaling slowly, pausing to give my words accent and intensity. "I will love you better".

When I came to Tyler was egging me on, offering up drinks and money, promising me it'd be the best and most successful pick up maneuver of modern times. I declined, opting for self-pity, another dirty-tap pint and my fifth game of Erotic Photohunt.

2 Comments:

Blogger I diverge said...

Oooo man and I was on the edge of my roll chair seat too!!

1:45 PM  
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6:05 AM  

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