She stood like a tall glass of water on a hot summer day. A coveted picturesque figure sashaying to the music she chose on the jukebox. Her black hair bobbed and I wondered what shampoo she used. I considered thanking them for creating this luxurious shimmer before me. She reflected human desire in nonchalance and disregard for anything other than the cognac in her glass and the music in the air. Sweet jazz filled the restaurant and she closed her cat drawn eyes as she swayed. One massive cube rolled around in her glass as she never set it down. Mamma didn’t raise a fool.
I flag down a waitress and order a sensible meal for myself and my date who has been excused to the restroom for far longer than expected. Conspicuously as I presume, I do a bump and itch at my lip.
Someone has gone to retrieve the jazz dancer and I wonder how much she would be for the night. She doesn’t look like a pro but everyone has a price and I’ve got money and blow. We could raise the town and dance to hell dragging everyone along the way. As she walks by she steadies herself on the back of my chair. Diamonds drip off her skin and tickle my hand as I grab her to prevent her fall. I drink the blue rush of her eyes as our eyes meet and the diamonds stay in my hand as she pulls away. I pocket them next to the baggie in my coat and sip my water, waiting.
“Did you order?”
The chair is pulled out and I remain sitting as I am joined. The lights dim as the night enters the atmosphere. “I thought you left.”
They study the jewelry adorning their fingers and look at me expectantly. “I almost did. I hate this place.”
I stand tossing my napkin table side and smirk at their horror. “It hates you too,” I mumbled.
No comments:
Post a Comment