What could make guys night out better than it already is? How about the company of a delightful woman at the bar?
The guys in my neighborhood go out once a month-it's been a thing for years. On the first Thursday, there are between 3 and 12 guys having a few beers, shooting pool, or playing poker at pushed-together tables. I've been doing this since we were the new couple on the street four years ago. Some of these guys are nodding acquaintances, and some are close friends.
Last month, attendance was pretty low. It was cold and rainy, and the email exchange was full of "I'm busy" and "Sorry guys." I wasn't excited, but I definitely didn't want to stay home that night-my wife was tied up with family stuff, and the kids were on their phones as soon as dinner was over. Once I got there, I was glad to be out, but there were only three of us. We had a drink, but none of us were particularly close, and it seemed like a perfunctory meeting. There were only a few other customers there, and no good games on the TVs over the bar. After one slow Guinness, we all sort of drifted over to the bar to settle up. The other guys headed out, and I waited for my credit card receipt-having no cash is usually a problem, but it worked out well that night!
As I waited, I gave one of the women sitting at the bar a small, non-predatory smile. She was drinking Guinness as well, which I always find appealing in a woman. Her two friends were putting on coats, but she didn't look ready to go-there was still half a pint in her glass. Her body was appealingly trim in soft boots, comfortable jeans, and a dark blouse. Her shoulder-length hair was brown, but the bar lights showed red highlights as well. I was admiring her smooth, lightly tanned skin and the dark eyes when she turned my way, catching me off guard. She knew I was checking her out, but seemed to appreciate the polite attention.
"Everybody's ready to go except us, huh?" she asked.
I nodded and said something senseless about the rain. When my credit card slip came, I signed it, folded it into my wallet, left the few dollar bills I had on the bar, checked my phone, and then turned to go. I didn't make it very far. Standing just outside the door was the Guinness-drinking brunette, smoking a cigarette and holding onto her glass. Her friends were gone, clacking down the street with quick steps before they vanished into the parking lot next door.
As I zipped my jacket and glanced up and down the rainy street, I heard her speak again.
"Want another? They left before I was finished-you can keep me company."
Thoughts raced through my head. In no particular order, they included "Hell yes, I want another beer," "I would love to fuck you right here," "How late can I stay out?" and "Did she really just say that?" Without too much pause, I smiled and unzipped my jacket. I fished out a cigarette and lit up to keep her company.
Her body relaxed when I did that, and I realized she was a little nervous about asking me. That made two of us, so a drink sounded like a good idea.
"I'm Karen," she said.
"I'm Steve. We took a few more drags, then I held the door for her and followed her inside. She had a twenty out already and ordered two Guinness before I could say a word. As the bartender poured and we watched them cascade slowly, Karen and I didn't say much. She paid, and grabbed both glasses. Instead of resuming her seat at the bar, she smiled and nodded toward a quieter booth away from the bar. We slid in facing each other, smiled awkwardly again, and then clinked our glasses together.
"Cheers," she said.
We chatted for a few minutes-I explained the guys' night out thing, and she told me the two who left were work friends who didn't live nearby.
Then she went quiet for a moment and said, "Thanks for staying."
"Thanks for asking me to," I replied.
"Why did you?" she asked. "You're out with the guys, you're married, they left, and you stayed to have a drink with some woman who asked you at the last minute. Why is that?"
I wasn't expecting that kind of directness, but I found myself smiling. I told her as honestly as I could (with a grin) about all the thoughts that ran through my head back outside the door.
She laughed. "Guys are amazing," she said, shaking her head. "You wanted to fuck me right away after three words and a smile?"
For once, my brain was working quickly, and I had a come-back ready: "Women are amazing, too. You want the same thing, and that's why you asked me to stay and have a drink, right?"
I tried not to sound cocky-forgive the pun-but I suspected I was on the right track with this idea!
She almost blushed, but covered it up with a smirk Her eyes, though, stayed locked onto mine and she said, "Well, you got me there."
After a moment more, she regained the initiative by saying, "So let's go...I'm pretty sure you have to be home by midnight or wifey will think you're up to something!"
"Where to?" was all I said to that. Tacit admission of guilt, check. Still gonna do it? Check.
We drained our pints, stood up, and put our jackets on.
"I live one building down-I just got an apartment on the top floor," she told me.
I don't know why I wasn't more hesitant, but ever since I turned and went back in the bar, I was only imagining her soft lips against mine-no flashes of my wife or kids or anything else, just enough to be practical about it and plan to get home on time.
I opened the door for her and she took my arm, guiding me to the right and into a well-lit entrance. We stayed close to the buildings to avoid the rain and ducked into the vestibule without incident. There was no name on the buzzer yet. The elevator was small but efficient, and as soon as its doors closed, she turned her face up to mine. Before we reached 3, our first kiss was well underway, and I felt her body against mine. The ding broke the spell, and we got out, headed down the hall a few steps, and she paused to fish out her key and unlock the door.
The lock clicked, but Karen turned to me before she fully opened the door.
"You're not some axe-murderer posing as a horny married man, are you?"
"Nope. I never use an axe. Too messy."
