Conviviality Beneath the Blue Moon

“It’s Maddy,” she winked back at the handsome man asking her name. “And if you’re going to buy me a drink, come on and do it already.”

His smile broadened, and he stepped up to the bar at her side, signaling the bartender with a raised hand, his fingers half-curled in a beckoning gesture. It was only a moment before the bartender slid down to take their order.

Maddy met his eyes with the confidence of the veteran barfly. “Crown and Sprite, easy on the Sprite,” she announced, firmly.

Her unwitting victim raised an eyebrow at her tone, but quickly shrugged it off. Surely she was far too young to be as much of an alcoholic as his mother. He ordered more quietly after she turned her face to stare him down. “Make it two.” He pulled a twenty from his right hip pocket and laid it on the bar, watching the bartender shuffle glasses and bottles with an experienced hand.

He realized that he hadn’t introduced himself to Maddy. “Don Davis. I know it’s the most cliche ever, but do you come here often?” he asked wit ha smile, not quite as broad as he had begun with.

He thought he saw a sly glint come to her eyes, but dismissed that idea when she took a half step closer to him.

“I’ve been here a couple times, but I’ve only just moved back here from St Louis. How about you?” She winked again, and all of his second thoughts washed away with that slow, sultry wink and the arrival of their matched drinks.

Don took a sip of his, trying to collect his thoughts while she lazily stirred her ice around with the tiny straw. “You mean do I come here often? Actually, no. This is the first time.” Was it just his imagination or did her smile just become the tiniest bit more authentic? It had to be his imagination.

He grasped for a topic of conversation, any topic. Please, anything. His panicked internal monologue was rising in pitch as the seconds ticked by. Somehow, Maddy was still smiling at him, her cheek resting on her fist as her elbow sat on the edge of the bar.

“I majored in biology at State,” he offered, immediately kicking himself. That tidbit was definitely not going to win him any points with her. But surprisingly enough, it seemed to work.

“Really?” For the first time, honest interest sparked behind her eyes, and she sat up a little straighter. “I minored in zoology when I was in St Louis.” Her excitement waned a bit, and her voice dropped. “Before I had to drop out.”

Don was legitimately curious about the reasons she ‘had to’ drop out, but judging by her emotional cues, it wasn’t the best story she had in her repertoire, so he made the good decision to let it drop and talk more about happier things. “So we have more in common than not coming here often.” He grinned, and was pleased to see some of the distant sadness leave her face.

The bartender slid by as if he were on a track, eyebrows raised in the universal question. Don shook his head, and the bartender continued on his way.

“We both like Crown and Sprite,” she added.

He laughed. “You’re absolutely right. A whole laundry list of things we have in common.”

“Add one more,” she smiled. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure we’d both like to end up in bed with the other before the night is over.” She finished off her drink and turned her body to face his, brushing her hip against his crotch in the process.

His surprise was clearly evident, so she prompted him, standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Drink up and let’s go.”

He obeyed, swiftly lifting his glass and emptying it down his throat before replacing the glass on the bar and letting her lead him through the exit door beneath the softly glowing Blue Moon clock.

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Lessons Learned and Thoughts Thinked

This morning I bought a new shirt at the dollar store so I’d have another short sleeved shirt to wear to work, since it’s winter and I will have absolutely no need for a jacket for the next ten days at least. Plus, it gets warm doing all that engraving at the speed of light, y’all.

I didn’t expect this severe of an outcome.

The first few hours I was at work, I watched my hands in amazement and wonder, trying my damnedest to figure out what on earth was rubbing off on me that had never done that before.

Oh. It’s my new shirt. Screw it, nothing I can do until I get home.

I got home and took a shower and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. And I’m still a little grey.

***

But isn’t that a beautiful thing? My life is chock full of these gloriously rich tidbits of real life, and so is everyone else’s. That blows my mind.The hundreds and thousands of strangers that I see every day are living the same vida loca that all of us are.

Anyway, wash new clothes before you wear them, especially when they only cost a few bucks.


Catsitting 

Arthur Pendragon is here for now
a blonder thinner Waffles

he’s not a fan of our cats
but the feeling is almost mutual

he took over the cat tree
and he hisses at us all

but his growl is impressive
like an idling motorcycle

he greatly enjoys catnip
stoned Arthur is happy Arthur


Unfamiliarity

Ian looked through his pictures after reading my post yesterday, and sent me the first stranger picture he found.

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It’s from the 2012 Red River Revel. Is that not an awesome photo bomb? And even better since he’s in focus, not Abby.

Ian does tend to take more of the pictures when we’re out and about. I figured he’d have stranger pictures, but I’d forgotten about this gem.


Familiarity

Today’s Daily Post prompt gave me pause:

We often capture strangers in photos we take in public. Open your photo library, and stop at the first picture that features a person you don’t know. Now tell the story of that person.

I opened. I searched. I scrolled through the 832 photos I have taken and kept since I got this phone nearly two years ago.

I don’t take pictures of strangers.

Is that odd? I never considered it before this prompt.

I take pictures at home, inside and outside. I take pictures at the park, in the car, and at the mall. I take pictures while hiking, while shopping, and while waiting.

But I don’t take pictures of strangers.

What does it say about me that I don’t take pictures of strangers?

Have I become so sensitive to avoiding conflict that I unconsciously avoid that are you taking a picture of me accusation?

Am I so self-centered that I don’t want to share my memories with strangers?

Do I choose my pictures to focus on my focus without the distraction of an unnecessary element?

I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.

Do you include strangers in your pictures?