Writing 101, Day Six: A Character-Building Experience

Posted: June 9, 2014 in Writing 101

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Several gulps into my fourth pint, I looked up and scanned the bar, like I had done between every mouthful since I arrived just under an hour ago. Bloody mates had let me down at the last minute, but as I was already out, I decided to stay and maybe socialise a bit. Another pint or two should give me the confidence to take the plunge and talk to someone. Or maybe it was time for a couple of fingers of amber nectar – Mr Jack Daniels.

I had to do a quick double take. She stood there, waiting for one the three busy bartenders to serve her. She looked a little forlorn. Maybe she was just miffed off at waiting. She couldn’t have been there long though. She seemed to have materialised there in the blink of an eye. Between swigs.

She had her left foot, adorned in a polka dot stiletto, resting on the cylindrical footrest at the base of the bar. Her left leg was bent slightly. She changed the foot resting on the bar. I couldn’t help but look. She had on a white spotty dress, which flared out slightly just above the knees and up to her hips. Around her waist she wore a black belt to break the dress up a little. Above the belt, her dress continued. Her arms were bare, and the dress’ neckline started just below her neck. This girl. No… this woman knew her fashion. She had caught the attention of several men around the bar. Me included. Me especially.

Her face was a picture. Yes she looked a little down in the dumps, but she was exceptional. Her face was slim. Her hair tied up in a bun. In a bun? That shouldn’t be that sexy, but the way she wore it, it was. She had dark brown hair and wore a pair of dangly earing which I couldn’t quite make out from the distance I was.

She had been noticed by the female bar keep. She delivered her order and smiled.

A man approached her and stood beside her, blocking my view.

Get out of the way, you goon. As if she’ll go for you.

Within a minute, the goon had been dismissed. Well, I assume she dismissed him. You don’t walk away from a woman like this unless she casts you aside.

Her drink was brought to her, a blue summery looking beverage with a strawberry slid onto the rim, and she took a sip immediately and looked around. Was she alone? I cast my eyes around the bar for small parties of ladies. There were at least a dozen groups, yet this stunner stood alone.

She took another sip and held it by the long stem in her right hand. I now noticed her clutch. It was silver with sequins, I think.

She continued to peruse the bar. Her eyes finally met mine, and I looked away immediately. I had been staring at her for a long time now, and I couldn’t remember blinking. Why the hell did I look away? I know why. This girl was way out of my league.

A moment later I looked back her, and of course, she was looking elsewhere.

Within a ten minute time frame, two more men had approached her, and she had dismissed the pair of them. She had also ordered her blue concoction again.

I too had reordered. I has asked the bar man for a Jager bomb and a bottle of Deperado, with a wedge of lime.

I was feeling quite relaxed now, and after downing the bomb, I picked up my bottle and headed over to this visual delight across the bar. More people had come in now, and I had to dance my way through, apologising to one burly looking gent as I stepped on his toe.

I neared her, and my pluck was disappearing quickly, but my legs seemingly had had enough dutch courage. They were making a beeline. Legs damn you, you’re not the ones who has to engage in conversation.

Before I knew it I had pulled up alongside her. She looked at me. I made four instant observations. The first is that her dress didn’t have polka dots on, they were butterflies. Number two. Her hair wasn’t brown. It was red. I think she was a natural redhead, but her hair was dyed to personify the colour. Three. Her earrings were beautiful. I don’t know what they were supposed to be, but they were eye catching to say the least. And four. Her eyes sparkled blue. Jesus, I had never seen eyes like them.

These observations were made pretty quickly, and I managed to stumble with my words before a meek, ‘Hi,’ escaped from my mouth. I took a sip from my bottle. She returned the greeting. I asked if she wanted a drink. I was expecting to be dismissed with goons one, two and three from earlier, but to my surprise she accepted. I nearly dropped my Deperado. I asked her what she was drinking, and she pointed to a cocktail menu on the bar. I waited only a minute for service, and I ordered her cocktail and a JD for me (well, a double with no ice).

We clinked glasses and began a conversation. At this point, I was so relieved my friends hadn’t turned up because I wouldn’t have done this if I were with them. We all would have admired and talked about her beauty and laughed at the approaching hyenas as they came and went. None of us would have dared go up to her in fear of ridicule and complete embarrassment. But here I was, talking to the best looking girl in the place and by far the best looking woman I had ever seen in real life!

She told me she worked for the local disability centre and she also played Netball to a decent level. I couldn’t believe her. I felt I had been put under a spell by Tony Robbins, like Jack Black’s character in Shallow Hal. What was wrong with this girl? She had looks, a caring nature and was athletic. Why the hell was she speaking to me? If I happened to have a ring on me, I would have been on my knee now, proposing.

Before long, she was joined by other two very attractive women. They apologised for being late, and she was told they were moving on. She finished her drink, said goodbye and kissed me on the cheek. As she did, I pulled her towards me and asked her why she chose to speak to me rather than the three other men who approached her.

‘You are sweet.’ was her reply. ‘You didn’t try to chat me up with a cornball line. I hate that.’

She said goodbye again and walked out of my life forever.

During my walk to the train station, I felt ten feet tall.

Anything was now possible…

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Comments
  1. Carole says:

    Where can I get a pair of those shoes?

  2. Reblogged this on stephencresswell77 and commented:

    Thought I’d reblig this from a month ago… I kinda like it

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