I have stopped in at the local nightclub, Celebrations, on a couple of occasions after the new management took over and renamed the club. Before the make over, the joint was a sports bar named Barnaby's. The new owners must have thought that renaming the club would bring in a more diverse crowd. It brought in a younger crowd, if that's an improvement.
The exterior of the bar pretty much looked the same, a round corner rectangle bar, with a highly lacquered wood finish. The counter top was a deep marbled green. The only difference was the lack of sports memorabilia that covered every square inch of wall and the television screens now show non-stop music videos instead of non-stop sports programs.
I'm not all that into sports, but it is a lot easier to pretend to be interested in a game, then to watch a big screen full of images of people dancing in a music video. At least with a ball game, no one accuses you of looking pathetically alone. Seems to me, you look more alone watching those music videos. It wouldn't be so bad if the bar wasn't now overrun by 20 year old singles with attitude. At 40, sitting alone with a lack of interest on your face makes you the old guy in the bar.
As I was pulling into the parking lot of Celebrations, I hadn't noticed the big pink and red lettered sign welcoming the lovelorn to the Valentine's Day Singles Mix. In fact, I didn't see the sign until I got to the door. It was only Thursday night, not my usual night out, but I needed a change of scenery. Celebrations was just a mile down the road and I thought that I could just drop in for a couple of beers and be out before that lack of interest crosses my face. God, is it Valentines Day? Do I need a day to remind me that I'm alone?
I didn't want to go back to the apartment, so I decided to go inside. Occasionally, I have seen women my age in the bar. Maybe I'll get lucky and have someone to talk to tonight. Of course the only people who go to these things are loving couples and misfits from the island of lost toys. I must be from the island.
It was a pretty upbeat crowd inside. As I walked in through the sea of faces blurred by a fog of cigarette smoke, I though to myself that my chances of finding a seat at the bar were pretty much non existent. Great, I'll have to sit on one of the stools next to a half wall. The one next to the dance floor where everyone can see how much fun we are having tonight. That's if I'm lucky. The only other space available would be a pretty pathetic piece of real estate next to the restroom. I would have left right away, but I just paid $5.00 to get in the door. It sort of throws you off when you don't expect a cover charge. I could either look cheap, stupid or glad to be here. I think my smile fooled them.
All the beautiful people were out tonight. A lot of red. I was about to begin my favorite social activity of finding that gap between the seated for the long stand while watching the bartender make eye contact with everyone else but me, when I spied an empty seat. Even more of a miracle was that the empty bar stool was next to a very striking woman. The first thing I noticed about her was her beautiful blue eyes. Her eyes had that one third closed, sleepy look to them. I guess you could say they were bedroom eyes. She had dark brown shoulder length hair with a relaxed curl that would have given her an extra 3 inches of hair when it was wet. She was physically inspiring. And best of all, she wasn't wearing red. She was wearing a soft blue, low cut, long sleeved pullover blouse with a floral design embroidered on the chest. Her slightly faded jeans graced the top of her caramel colored low top boots. Of course, her socks matched her blouse.
I was wearing the color befitting my tormented soul—black.
As I made my way to the empty stool, it occurred to me that this woman's boyfriend was either close by or busy relieving himself. If I was sitting next to her, I'd have to relieve myself quite often. Well, if nothing else, I have a momentary shot at getting the bartender's attention in an open area.
When I reached her side, I put one foot up on the bottom rung of the bar stool that sat on her left side, as if to claim a well ventured piece of ground and leaned across the bar for my first attempts of getting a beer. I pretended to make no notice of Miss Sleepy Eyes while I tried to keep that pleasant, hey wait on me face. It wasn't working.
To my surprise, I heard a soft, sensual voice say... "there's no one sitting here."
I look around to see Miss Sleepy Eyes smiling at me. I hadn't noticed her mouth. I mean, I hadn't notice how perfect her lips were, how they pouted even when the corners of her mouth curled up to reveal a beautiful smile.
"I'm sorry, what did you say", I said with a cracked voice that clearly wasn't ready for speech.
"The seat, it isn't taken if you care to sit down."
If I wasn't strong of will, my ass would have hit that seat harder than most butts hit the floor when someone has pulled a chair out from under them. "Thank you", I replied. "This is my lucky night... I mean, to get a seat." I almost laughed out loud when that voice in my head said...yeah, I'm a pretty smooth talker as well.
I watched the bartender go by again as she made her way to the other end of the bar to wait on... my God, he just walked in. Next time she comes by, I'm going to knock an ashtray on the floor in front of her. If I'm lucky, she'll trip and break her leg or something. I was in that dream state where all the injustice in my life was solved by a few random acts of mental violence or karma induced unfortunate accidents, when I heard that voice again.
"Hey, Melissa", she called to the bartender, "how about something to drink for my friend here."
It was her, Sleepy Eyes...and she knew the bartender's name! I watched in disbelief as the booze jockey made her way to my corner of the bar. The bartender seemed pleasant enough as she took my order and refreshed my new friend's drink. I looked at Sleepy and said, "Is she a friend of yours?"
"No, we just met," came her reply. She then proceeded to tell me about her experience with barstaff. She felt that it helped to get their names when she first encountered them. She believed that you had a better chance at getting their attention if you were on a first name basis. She's probably right...I'm sure...hey, you freakin blind moron bitch wouldn't work too well. It's not that I'm hostile, I just get tired of being patience and polite while watching the other people rudely jump in and get served. I theorized that bartenders are partly responsible for the lack of bar etiquette.
I didn't bother to give my theories on bar etiquette to my new friend. We talked of other things. During the conversation, I found out that her name was Maria. The song started playing in my head immediately. I liked the name Maria better than Sleepy. I told her that my name was Nathan. I also made sure that she knew that I had no idea that tonight, a Valentines Singles mix was being held at this bar.
She looked up at me as she cupped her chin in her hand. "Don't you like Valentine's Day Nathan?" "Are you one of those men who doesn't like romance?"
"No, nothing like that...I just didn't want to appear as though I am one of those people trying desperately to find someone to share an evening with ...well, you know what I mean?"
