I've never really been a big fan of Halloween. I don't mind the dress up, but sometimes people take it so seriously. The move in my twenties was to just pretend it was a regular day, and it started out that way. I was at my bar with my people. There were fun folks, cute folks, even some sexy folks, but as the holiday night progressed, people just came and went. Bar hopping around -- there may have been some sort of scavenger hunt happening.
I was sort of glad when it was time to close the bar. The few of us that were locals helped the bartender start closing -- putting chairs on tables, sweeping and mopping up. And then the front door opened. I can't believe we forgot to lock the front door! But when she walked in, I was glad. "Have you seen my friends?"
She was wearing a pirate outfit. Or at least that was how I'm sure her night started. She had a men's white dress shirt on, with only two buttons done up top, the rest tied tightly around her adorable tummy. She had a black lace bra on, just to make sure you knew she knew you were staring. She had a short red plaid skirt on, over fishnet stockings, and chunky black heels that gave her confidence strutting up the steep broken streets. She had a plastic eye patch that was now up on her forehead, which must have come with the comically long plastic sword she had secured to her waist. There was a dark streak on her chin, suggesting that a few hours earlier she attempted a pirate beard. She was absolutely adorable.
I said yes, in fact, I think I did see her friends. They were in earlier, they might still be here. Which is kind of a dick thing to say because there were 5 male locals in the bar, the bartender, and an empty back room, but the music was still playing so hey. We could at least double check right?
I asked if she wanted a pint. She said yes. So I pour us both a pint, I hand her hers, smile, and lead her to the back room. She laughs the moment we make our way past the short hallway. There is obviously nobody in the bar but us, but maybe she's flattered? She seemed to want some attention that night and here she was alone. Or at least she was. I suggested we put our pints down on the wooden ledge and really check everywhere. We went into a closet type room, and I held her close. I turned around, after observing that no, her group of friends were not in fact in this 4x4' square closet. And that's where I first kissed her.
She smiled and said we should keep looking. So we did. We made out behind the back bar. Over by the DJ booth. In the closet a second time. By our pints on the ledge. By the bathrooms. Soon there was no other place to make out, but I was sensing the bartender wanted to actually close, for real this time. So we walked up front, put our glasses in the sink, and walked outside.
