“A Cosmopolitan for the lady, and I would fancy a Hot Toddy on a Tuesday” he said smirking at my completely judgmental face. It was our fourth day in a row and him experimenting seventh cocktail at this bar, pretty obvious how our math went wrong there (hint: he MIGHT be an alcoholic) – I stayed loyal to my Cosmo nevertheless because who likes change right?
At times, we would lose the count of drinks and more often than not forget to eat dinner altogether all between our perpetually engrossing conversations about anything and everything ranging from what an amazing show Breaking Bad was to talking about my typically boring train ride.
As the night turned darker, lights suggestively dimmer and the music shifted to a more of an R&B Jazz – I sipped onto my drink, a relatively larger gulp sensing a bit of an awkward tension between us. He seemed to be grooving and tapping his shoe to the rhythm, maybe it was just me? But that’s when I felt the bottom of his foot feeling up mine under the table, going about his way up my leg, until I was too shy to look him in the eye.
Moving his fingers slyly by my wrist, he asks “If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?” With one and half a Cosmo down and his face full of anticipation, I’m sure he expected me to return with some hopeless romance dripping from my mouth but without giving it a second thought I blurted “Ladies room, I think I need to use the ladies room.” To which he laughed his charming laugh and gestured me to show the way to one.
Upon my return from what seemed like a good ride to the bygone days – coincidentally it was still a Tuesday with an even darker night, dim lights and Frank Sinatra playing on the jukebox. Except you’re not here. You’re in another city with another woman dancing to another tunes drinking another cocktail. I bet she knows just the right words to say at just the right time.
Nudging me into reality, the bartender asked me for the second time “Should I make you the usual Cosmopolitan?” I turned to him with a smile and shook my head saying “Make me a drink strong enough to unlearn the two years of my life …and make that on the rocks, please.”
How long was I going to stay loyal to my Cosmopolitan now?