The Ruby Room is a dive bar with all the accoutrements you might expect of the name. Ruby walls, ruby upholstery, ruby seats, ruby booths, ruby candles, and a complimentary black that frames everything. Its also one of those smoking establishments in a state thats outlawed smoking inside of bars.
And thats where I met Marla, the first woman of any substance Id encountered in many months. I knew, in a moment, that I wanted her.
All of five feet and four inches, she radiated a life that could be felt across the room. That particular night I felt surly, private and solitary, sitting at the end of the bar where I could order drinks without interference or the obligatory chit-chat people expect. I came here to get drunk, not to make conversation. But as she glanced across the room and at me, I knew in a moment she had my own intentions on her mind. She was sultry with her stylish haircut and wore a loosely fitted dress that flowed over her body and gave no illusions of what lay beneath. To my surprise she took up a seat of her own adjacent to me.
Its my friends birthday! she exclaimed to me with bright eyes smiling. Not wanting to appear rude, I obliged. Soon enough we were all engaged in the frivolities of this event.
Her name, as I explained, was Marla and she introduced me to her two friends: Marie, a shy office receptionist with neatly French manicured nails, and the girl of the moment, Claire. Claire was a local hairdresser and full-time, single mother who was enjoying a reprise by birthday camaraderie with her best friends.
After a couple rounds of drinks I found no problem in carrying the conversation myself.
So the Texan comes back into the bar, I heaved, and drunkenly exclaims, Alllllright! Now where can I find me that Eskimo woman?! Its a horrible joke. But its the only one I can tell without fucking up, and people laugh at it anyway.
Soon enough the clock wound past the time for all mothers to stay away from home and for professional receptionists, too, at that. And with polite farewells, the odd people out exited.
As Id hoped, Marla remained behind. Having said her good-byes she turned her attention to me. Do you like to play Scrabble? she inquired, eagerly. Because I keep a whole chart at home of words I can use! The question was a little like asking if musicians played music, but, certainly, I was a willing and wanting accomplice to the flirting game she played. Her dark eyes toyed with me, they way they flitted and her eyelashes flapped, as she looked confidently into my face.
Like any sensible man working on a months long drought, I would have sold my family down the river for one night with her. I laughed and I giggled and I praised all the right things. Her hair, her shoes, her nails, her humor, the drinks she wanted, the jokes she told. I doted and I retreated, I played the game of parry and dodge, attack and defend, of cat and of mouse, until she finally spoke the magical words: Lets go back to my place.
To be continued...
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Something you didn't know about me: My parents never divorced because as a 4-year-old child, I told my mother I wanted to move with daddy to America (while I was living in Japan).
And thats where I met Marla, the first woman of any substance Id encountered in many months. I knew, in a moment, that I wanted her.
All of five feet and four inches, she radiated a life that could be felt across the room. That particular night I felt surly, private and solitary, sitting at the end of the bar where I could order drinks without interference or the obligatory chit-chat people expect. I came here to get drunk, not to make conversation. But as she glanced across the room and at me, I knew in a moment she had my own intentions on her mind. She was sultry with her stylish haircut and wore a loosely fitted dress that flowed over her body and gave no illusions of what lay beneath. To my surprise she took up a seat of her own adjacent to me.
Its my friends birthday! she exclaimed to me with bright eyes smiling. Not wanting to appear rude, I obliged. Soon enough we were all engaged in the frivolities of this event.
Her name, as I explained, was Marla and she introduced me to her two friends: Marie, a shy office receptionist with neatly French manicured nails, and the girl of the moment, Claire. Claire was a local hairdresser and full-time, single mother who was enjoying a reprise by birthday camaraderie with her best friends.
After a couple rounds of drinks I found no problem in carrying the conversation myself.
So the Texan comes back into the bar, I heaved, and drunkenly exclaims, Alllllright! Now where can I find me that Eskimo woman?! Its a horrible joke. But its the only one I can tell without fucking up, and people laugh at it anyway.
Soon enough the clock wound past the time for all mothers to stay away from home and for professional receptionists, too, at that. And with polite farewells, the odd people out exited.
As Id hoped, Marla remained behind. Having said her good-byes she turned her attention to me. Do you like to play Scrabble? she inquired, eagerly. Because I keep a whole chart at home of words I can use! The question was a little like asking if musicians played music, but, certainly, I was a willing and wanting accomplice to the flirting game she played. Her dark eyes toyed with me, they way they flitted and her eyelashes flapped, as she looked confidently into my face.
Like any sensible man working on a months long drought, I would have sold my family down the river for one night with her. I laughed and I giggled and I praised all the right things. Her hair, her shoes, her nails, her humor, the drinks she wanted, the jokes she told. I doted and I retreated, I played the game of parry and dodge, attack and defend, of cat and of mouse, until she finally spoke the magical words: Lets go back to my place.
To be continued...
======
Something you didn't know about me: My parents never divorced because as a 4-year-old child, I told my mother I wanted to move with daddy to America (while I was living in Japan).
VIEW 25 of 32 COMMENTS
-I know you saw, you already commented and aggreed, but still, "didja see?" is so funny
Dave