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In the garden

$15 dollars for a martini?  Jesus... I don't even like martinis. 

 

I look over the drink menu.  They're half price for happy hour.  Looks like I'm going to have to get my drink on within the next two hours.  I'm either going to get the blue agave martini or the pomegranate.  Tequila martini sounds good.  Ewwww... it's made with blue curacao.  Pomegranate it is.  Shouldn't have arrived early.  I wonder if she's going to be on time.

 

I'm sitting with my face to the entrance.  The sun is going down and the light is coming in through the doorway.  She walks in.  Is that her?  I just see a silhoutte.  The right height and shape.  Yes, it's her.  She looks great.  Short, but modest dress.  Blue.  Comfortable shoes.  Kind of a sandle with a two or three inch sole that brings her height up to about 5'11".  She looks happy to see me.

 

I order the pom martini and she orders the espresso martini.  I tell her to pick out an appetizer.  She chooses the hummus with roasted red peppers.  Nice.  She enjoys weird ethnic food too.

 

The martinis come in weird little shakers.  There's two martinis worth of drink in each.  Okay, the $15 price seems more reasonable now.

 

We talk for an hour and a half, eat our hummus, and drink our drinks.  I try some espresso martini.  It tastes like a dessert.  There's Bailey's and chocolate liqueur in there.  Interesting, but I'd never be able to finish one.  The pomegranate martini is great.  It has a ton of vodka and there's little pomegranate seed floating in it.

 

The band starts up.  They're loud.  They immediately start in with that terrible Lady Antebellum song about being drunk and needing a booty call from your ex.  Fuck that song.  The band is also killing conversation.  She tells stories that aren't boring.  We've got things in common.  I don't think I've ever met a woman that's read more Phillip K. Dick that I have before.

 

We move outside to the patio.  She asks if I mind if she smokes.  I don't.  I think to myself that kissing an ashtray isn't so bad if it's a totally sexy ashtray.  We order another martini before happy hour is over.

 

She's a little buzzed.  I can tell.  The sun is down and it's cooling off.  There's a nice breeze.  She asks if I want to go for a walk.  I do.  We talk as we walk.  She talks about her kids.  I talk about mine.  She talks about her friends at work like I know them.  We walk past somebody smoking a cigar and she says it smells good.  When I ask her what kind of cigars she smokes, she says she like Montecristo whites.  Coincidence, I smoke those too.  I buy them at the Paiute Indian reservation down the street for about 1/2 what they're worth, a $10 stick for $6.

 

We stop to sit for a while.  It's an old fashioned bench in a garden.  There's a small fountain and an artificial stream flowing from it.  There's a little island in the center.  We talk for a while.  She puts her hand on my leg for emphasis a few times.  During a moment of silence, I put my hand behind her head and kiss her, softly, slowly, and then deeply.  She shows a pleasant enthusiasm.  It feels good.

 

We continue to talk.  Periodically, we kiss some more.  I told my kids that they might have to spend the night over their grandmother's.  If I'm not there by midnight, it's too late to get them.  They hate to spend the night there.  It's not like they hate their grandmother, they just don't like spending the night with her.  They don't get cooked for like they're accustomed.  They sleep in a strange bed.  They don't get entertained by their father.  They don't get a lavish breakfast like they're accustomed to during the summer.  Their grandmother isn't a bad person, she's just annoying sometimes.

 

I make a conscious decision to not make it back by midnight.  It's a selfish thing to do.  I'm enjoying the company of an interesting, attractive woman who's putting her tongue in my mouth and pressing herself up against me.  My kids are going to be mildly disappointed due to my selfishness.  I wonder if that makes me evil in a small way.  Even if it does, I decide to stay late anyway.

 

It's about 1 am when I walk her to her car.  Our last kiss of the night is chaste.  Our mouths barely open.  I put my hands on her waist when we kiss.  I tell her I really enjoyed spending time with her.

 

I'm still in the car, driving home when she texts me.

 

"I had a very nice night.  I would like to see you again.  Maybe sooner rather than later."

 

I think I'd like to see her again soon too.

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