ONE NIGHT

My first attempt at writing a story. open for critiques be nice and honest.

They say you can’t tell the difference between bottled water and tap water, I don’t know who they are, but they have always lied to me.  I always can.  I think I will try to do my part about saving the environment, I will no longer kill anymore plastic trees.        
   A funny thing when I start to write the keyboard seems to have a mind of its own, I think I prefer paper then I can control my thoughts. Once again its me and the cat chillin.  Me sippin on cognac she’s hittin the nip, only this time  we do have truce. I bought her a nice bed, she’s a biracial cat, black and white.  I have no idea what the cops will do to her if she ever gets out. Anyway I was reading about a chance meeting between a father and daughter.  By the way I hate that writer…..lol, he doesn’t know it, I guess he does now, anyway I believe we are friends. Our lives had taken some similar twists. We were both institutionalized him in one place and I  in another, I had more freedom, my freedom to chose my method of death and I don’t really hate him, I admire his style. So here I am babbling again, I don’t know if it’s the cognac or this belligerent  keyboard. 

  It seems so long ago I was in Alaska, first time there, the plane had mechanical  problems I had to stay overnight.  I was much younger then, sometimes reckless sometimes not.  There was a knock on my door three heavenly beauties were welcoming me to the neighbor hood.   Never one for  taking the first opportunity,  besides what was I going to do with three lovelies?  I know, I know, I learned that one at another time.  So me in my infinite wisdom decided to take a trip to the seedier part of town. Well, the infamous they told me to stay away, always one to respect authority I went anyway.  I saw a first class a*s whuppin. I am just glad I wasn’t the guy that pissed her off. On my way to the local gin mill, I drank gin at that time. There was this woman Samoan I think all dressed in furs taking this guy and ramming his head into the side of the van. Good thing I wasn’t a hero at that time or I might have been that guy, anyway she was ramming his head so hard into the van I thought she was going to tip the van over.  I watched for about 2 minutes, poor guy  Excedrin headache 132. 

  I walk into the gin joint.  I cased the joint for the exits, I’m no dummy I watch movies, someone always has to make a hasty retreat.  I order my drink, knotty head on the rocks, back then I had a rotgut stomach, for you more classier types that would be Seagram’s gin. They didn’t make the flavored ones back  then.  There I am  sippin on my drink checking the place out. Then I spied her. You know the scene, the music starts to play, the big spotlight comes on, the room starts to spin,  time freeze.  She looks at me, I at her. I ‘m drawn to her eyes, face lips, nice  smooth caramel covered lovely, not like the time when I first saw my daughter’s mom, totally different scenario.   Time stands still, heart palpitations, sweaty palms. Click, normal speed now.  I notice the surroundings. She is sitting  at a table and  there is a guy talking to her.  Well he was talking she was looking like get over here and save me from this jerk.  This is the time when you insert colorful metaphors, like telling him to go away and that he’s the spawn of a motherless goat, things like that.  Like I said this is before I became a hero, so I watched the drama unfold. She looks at me again.  Will you get over and save me, her eyes said.  I hesitate, what’s a would be hero to do.  I wouldn’t know I wasn’t who I was to become.   So I make a grand decision.  I go and order another drink.  Meanwhile at the bar I glance over and the scene is getting a bit animated she glances at me. Decision time, my John Wayne moment except I am not John Wayne and I  don’t say pilgrim.  I adjust my belt, fix my tie and walk over. “ Hi baby, sorry for taking so long to get over here. You know how work is, whose your friend?” I ask and then I sit down.  She being the classy lady said, he’s just leaving.  Scene averted.  Now she and I begin a conversation.
“You sure took your time rescuing me.”
“ I had to make sure it wasn’t a lovers spat,” I replied. I ordered a drink white wine and I, more knotty head.   It was one of the better conversations I have had in my life, nice ebb and flow, smiles and laughter and those friendly flirty touches.  Then she asks “Your not from around here are you?” And of course I answered.  Her reply was I probably won’t see you again will I? And of course I answered “ No you  won’t.” “”Thank you for a lovely evening, she went her way and I went mine.  What’s a would be hero to do?  After further review I should have lied. Every now and then I wonder what if .

Reviews

[Sheila Kline]

This is the first of your writes that I am reading, and I must say that it held my interest to the ending! I do enjoy a first person story, and you had me right along side you....well done!

[Rain]

Anytime you can introduce a new set of eyes on a familiar scene, it's cool. People love looking at common incidents through uncommon eyes. There are a thousand bar scene stories. most are predictable. I like stories written in the first person style, it gives the writer the chance to show case his originality. Less is always better, but also more difficult. I enjoyed reading this piece, and it's ending.
By the way..I hate your a*s,too. :) Rain..