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SATURDAY NIGHT AT A BAR |
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"Hello, Phil."
He looked up from cleaning his glasses just as Kevin sat comfortably on the stool.
"Hey Kev." He crinkled a smile at him, his hand already closing in on the Johnny Walker on the shelf hidden below the bar. "Who's your friend?"
The younger man grinned. "Jules, meet Phil, the oldest barkeep in town."
She extended a hand with a smile. "Hello, Phil. Didn't realize there was a shortage of barkeepers that they're calling a guy like you as the oldest."
"Ohhh, I like her. Not only is she pretty, she's smart too." He accepted the hand with a hearty shake. "I'm forty eight, not seventy six. Do you good to remember that, Kevin. Else I might just fold that lip of yours for you."
Kevin reached for the glass of Johnny Walker placed in front of him. "I'm shaking in my boots, Phil."
Julie grinned at the easy banter between them, already bored inwardly. But of course, she was not going to show it. There were worse things you can do on a Saturday night, like watching sickly old movies alone instead of going on a date with the most predictable guy in your office. Come to think of it, she could have been bored at home too, and she wouldn't have to keep coming up with comments that sounded halfway witty. But it is a little too late to change her mind now. Oh, well...
A chirping sound went off. After some confusion on whose beeper it was, Kevin read the characters from his. "Hmm, I gotta call the office, Julie."
"Sure, no problem Kev," she said, trying not to sound too pleased. "Go, call them."
He nodded gratefully. "Thanks, sweetie. I'll be back in a jiff."
No need to come rushing back. But she just smiled and waved him off.
"Ahh, the kid's not half bad, Julie," Phil piped up. "Boring, maybe. But not like some of the guys who come here."
Guiltily, she smiled back. "Yeah, I suppose so."
"So, what'll you have, li'l missy?"
She almost winced at the bad John Wayne imitation. "Hmm. Martini, I guess."
"Shaken, not stirred." He laughed at his own joke. "One martini coming up."
He actually winked at that, Julie thought with amusement. Oh boy, it's turning out to be one of those nights...
Turning around to look around her, Julie scanned the humanity around her. It was her first time in this bar. All bars looked alike to her actually. The lighting, the ambiance, the music. It was the faces of the people that had always attracted her to these places. After all, where else can you find a roaring drunk telling the whole world that his wife left him for the milkman. Not in Central Park, that's for sure.
Phil saw her looking at a lone customer sitting at a corner table. "She's waiting for her lover."
Julie turned around to see the bartender staring at her with amusement. "Huh?" she said with a shame-faced grin.
"You're a people-watcher, aren't you?"
The reddish tinge crept higher to her cheeks. "I was just looking, you know. Wasn't gonna come around and ask her."
Chuckling, he made a sweeping gesture. "It's ok. I am too at times, when I'm not giving out whisky or scotch. Besides, haven't you heard of that old adage about bartenders and priests havin' the same confessionals?"
She smiled. "Not really."
"Well, anyhow. That woman and her lover meet up regularly in this club. They met here, y'know."
"No way."
"Yes way, sirree. She was sitting in that very stool youre lounging on now."
Her interest, now perked, showed clearly on her face.
"He sorta swaggered in, like one of those pimply young boys trying to look like a man. Except that he ain't a boy no way, no how. He just went up to her and said: Wanna dance?"
Julie wrinkled her nose. "Ugh."
He laughed. "Well, even through all that machismo obviously borrowed from a bad movie, he was really scared. She was the prettiest girl in the whole bar. Heck, in the whole city for that matter. You could see it in his eyes, the way he practically begged her not to reject him. If she'd laugh at him, he'd have to slink away from this place like a wounded rabbit and never come back."
"Yeesh. Men and their ego." Julie commented, taking a sip at the glass he had given her. "A girl ought to be able to say no and not feel guilty about wounding a man's pride."
"This wasn't just pride. When he saw her walk in the bar, the first thing that popped in his head was 'what's a girl like that doing in a place like this?'. But even he knew how that old cornball had died a weary death way past in the 1920's. No, sirree. That's not something he wanted to say to this girl. He wanted something intelligent and kind and interesting and funny all in one bombshell of an introductory line. And after about half an hour of practicing under his breath, all he came up was: 'Wanna dance?'"
A smile. Phil must have made this up, she thought. She does it all the time when she watch people secretly, making up stories about the way they lived their lives, adding bits of glamour and passion. "Almost like love at first glance."
"Yep. You wouldn't have believed it in this day and age that such a thing is still possible."
"And I'll just bet she did dance with him."
He pursed his lips while pouring scotch on an ice filled glass. "She didn't."
"What!!" Julie almost choked on her drink. "Phil, you're a rotten storyteller."
He laughed as he handed over the drink to another customer in the bar. "She didn't because she was waiting for her date, and she didn't want her friend to think that she had picked up another guy just cuz he was late fifteen minutes."
Julie grinned at the way he handled the story, forgetting her boredom. "Then what happened?"
"We-ll, the boy went away for a while, happy that he had not been rejected outright. And decided to pray that her date won't show up."
"Let me guess, he didn't."
"Give the girl a prize, ladies and gentlemen. Yep, he didn't show up." His jowls were shaking as he laughed at her. "So, after about another half an hour, she was still sitting here, looking a bit wilted under the lights. He screwed up what was left of his courage and came to ask her to dance again."
His eyes were looking a bit reminiscent and Julie found herself hoping that the story had a good ending. "And?"
"And, finally, perhaps at her pique at being stood up, she said 'yes' to the boy and danced with him. She might have said bye bye at the end of the dance. 'Nice meeting you' and all that and then proceeded to leave without a backward glance. He didn't want that to happen. So he talked to her, trying to draw her out with what he thought was his wit and charm. And she just listened to him rattle on, not saying much. By the time the song ended he was so sure he ain't gonna see this girl again. Then, just out of the blue, she asked him if he'd like to keep dancing with her."
Soft laughter from her. "And they lived happily ever after. Are they still together, Phil? How long had they been seeing each other?"
"Honey, I think I better head home. I'm getting tired."
Julie jumped at the voice. And turned beet red to see the object of their conversation getting inside the bar.
"Okay, hon. Told you. Waiting up for me is not a good idea."
With a shock, Julie realized that the woman was talking to Phil. And he had just answered the question, with his arms around her waist, while impishly looking at her.
The other woman laughed at her expression. "Phil, you naughty man. You haven't been fooling around with this young woman, have you? Not with me just across the floor."
He took her hand with his own and smiled at her. "No way, hon. I was just telling her how I met you twelve years ago."
It took another moment for her to find her tongue. "Uh, yeah. Hi, I'm Julie."
"I'm Carla. You'll have to forgive my husband. He likes to joke around." She offered her hand, a warm smile in her eyes.
The question was out before she can stop it. "Did you guys really meet here?"
Her smile grew wider. "Yes, we did. That's why we bought this place in the first place ten years ago."
Phil nudged her gently and interrupted. "You better go, hon. I don't want you driving when you're too tired, you know that."
"Oh, okay, Fred Astaire," she remarked pertly at him. "I'll be going now, Julie. Nice meeting you."
"Fred Astaire?"
Carla grinned slyly at Julie. "That's because he stepped too many times on my toes whenever we danced. But, don't tell him that." The "him" in the sentence was just looking at them indulgently.
Julie laughed. "Okay, Carla. Nice meeting you too."
When Phil came back from seeing his wife at the back door, Julie commented noncommittally. "Great story, Phil."
He smiled conspiratorially. "And it's all true, too."
"What's all true?"
They both turned to see Kevin sliding back to his seat. Julie just smiled. "Oh, he was just telling me how a couple met up in this place and ended up together."
"Oh, ok." Kevin took another sip at the drink he left on the bar. "Wanna dance?"
Julie almost laughed. But she didn't want him thinking that she was laughing AT him. "Sure."
"Uh-I have to warn you though, I'm an awful dancer. I might step on your toes a little bit."
At the way he said it, Julie did let out a soft chuckle. Well, this may not be love at first sight but this night might just turn out to be not so boring after all.
"Don't worry. I'm wearing industrial shoes." |
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