The sound of glasses, wine and alike, bumping into each other has been a usual night orchestra for people like me, along with the sound of bottles being collected and floor being swept. For some reason these sounds always calms my mind down. The night has been good to me. People ordered usual cocktails. Mostly beers. Men have always found their tranquil in the company of another. Noise, laughter and alcohol have showered the four corners of my club. As I collect the keys to my condo, leather jacket for the night and my phone, a staff of mine bid farewell, his thanks and pointed at the corner. Curious as to why, I looked to where he pointed completely forgot to return pleasantries. And there, sitting there in the corner table, hugging a bottle of still almost full vodka, a woman mumbling something to herself. This is a first. I do not always call my hired bartender to inform him that I would take over for the night, of course he is more than willing to let me. Now I wonder if that guy faces women like these who do not know how to handle their alcohol. I sighed. Well, what can be lost?
I came over to her table, tugging along a chair and a glass for myself. As I settle down I grabbed the bottle from her just to be surprised when I heard a loud clear thud as her head hit the wooden table because, apparently, she was leaning on the bottle for support. Surprised, I just stared at her for a few seconds wondering how drunk can a woman get, because all the women I’ve been with knew no other alcohol other than that of wine labels. Feeling guilty for causing her to hit her head on the table, I walked over to the bar and mixed Salt of the Border without much sugar. A treat for the lady. Walking back, I can hear an awfully loud snoring which seems to come from her. Now, I never thought that a woman that small can make that loud of a snore but it certainly brought a smile to my lips. I then proceeded to waking the little lady up and let her smell the mixture of lime and ice cream. Her eyes flitted open and her pretty little head quickly scans to her right and left making her hair get into disarray, only to make her beautifully disoriented, if that made sense. Looking at her, I thought that she must be about 19 or 21 and that a lot of women would probably kill for a look so perfect yet in utter chaos that took beauty in her form. Her hair must have had an argument and settled taking an arrangement of their own, exploding in different directions, sticking and covering parts of her face keeping only enough to see a good view of that perfect skin. The lipstick she put on now looks smudged and her lips slightly swollen as if from a kiss, maintaining a petty pout. Finally her eyes that looked so lovely with a color that is three hues darker than hazelnut brown that seems to look for attention settled on me. Flushed from seeing her just now and embarrassed for blatantly observing the beautiful lady in front of me, I again grabbed the bottle of vodka in front of me, poured my glass full, gulped it down and then closed my eyes, slowly feeling the heat crept up from my chest up to my neck. Seconds pass and when I opened my eyes, I saw her licking the spoon in her mouth looking innocently at me. Probably left a chunk of ice cream in that drink of hers. She then said thanks. For the drink, I thought. But she said thanks for not being asked to pay for that bottle that she took from the bar. This time it is my head that hit the table. Such a troublesome girl. Looking up again, I saw her trying to fit herself on the chair while aiming for a fetal position. I sat and stared at that determined expression on her face and when she managed to fit herself, blushed at that triumphant look she had. My head leaned to the the right, while thinking what a naive girl I got. I closed my eyes, then.
I do not know why but the faces of the women that came in my life flashed in front of me. She is unlike any of those women. She probably isn’t even used to socializing judging the way she acts with me, or even going into a bar. If she was bullied about being unable to taste wine or alcohol yet and decided to go and tried to drink in a bar alone, that would have made me giggle in my thoughts. She isn’t the usual type of girl I hang out with. She definitely is not the type of woman who left me for another man. She is like a fresh new breeze. A new breeze that I have not yet decided to let into my home.
Unexpectedly, she chose that moment to tell her name. Unwittingly, along with her actual age which is really young. I do not know how to react or handle her anymore. She, probably seeing my troubled expression, giggle then followed with a bright smile that almost literally brought sunshine to the closed bar. Unfortunately, it tugged at my broken heart.
Conversation easily followed and we kept each other company, easing each others feelings, up till the hours when I should really be sleeping for my daytime work. So, as a last treat, I mixed her one last drink. A drink made for a special lady like her. This young, captivating and innocent lady may not understand what it means for me, as a bartender to offer her such a mix as a drink but I do hope she goes back to this bar next time. Or meet her somewhere. As if predestined.