It was a long, hard cold day, I was glad to get home especially with the hard cold wind and so wet whipping rain and I had forgot my umbrella. I walked through the busy streets of the city, alive due to hustle, bustle of people heading home or to work, or to somewhere they didn't want other people to know about.
The blinking neon street signs split the night like lighting, selling their wares, their bodies and even their souls if they could, for just a small fee. The rain was hard and merciless and the windy was torment. I pulled my collar to the wind and rain with little resistance or relief.
"Fuck it!" I muttered, crossed the busy street, dodging cars, and buses like Frantic Frogger, and pushed open the door to Jimmies.
If you like atmosphere Jimmies certainly has one. Darkly lit, Smokey, mysterious with the usually long bar along one side with stools in random positions, Like Pawns in a well-established Chess game. With small, even darker / secret alcoves where you can sit and watch the world go by without being noticed. I nodded at Jimmie as I entered and by the time, I took my coat off, hung it on the rack and sat down, my drink was waiting for me in my usually spot at the bar.
I saluted Jimmie with my glass and drowned the tumbler, before ordering another. I could feel the warm sensation hit my throat and stomach as it flowed down. This one I took slower, like a virgin on her first time, would slowly go down on her first hard cock.
Sitting back, I took in the room. The old and faithful music box played out old and faithful music much older than some of the drinkers in the room. The alcoves were empty apart from the last on the right and the furthest from the exit.
This one had a solemn women drinker. Cradling her glass like it was the last drink in the world. She sat hunched forward, in silence. Almost like a religious icon in the city cathedral, apart from every now and again she would bring her hand up to her mouth, breathe in as her cigarette glowed red then slowly and melancholy breathe out as the smoke drifted from her mouth and up to the overhead light shade. I could tell she did not get any emotions or enjoyment from this and seemed to be more out of habit and addiction, then a new smoker.
I did not realise, but as I looked over, she lifted her head and had locked eyes on me. In this moment I could see a look of confusion, then a look of amusement as she, so I felt, looked straight through me. Then she focused on my eyes. A brief smile ghosted her lips then appeared to vanish as quick as it came, hopefully not forever.
She drowned her drink and raised the empty glass at me. I understood the sign, asked Jimmie to pour the drinks and took them over to her alcove in the corner. I placed her drink in front of her as she stubbed out her cigarette and then with her hand gestured, I sat opposite her at the table.
She fiddled in her fake designer bag in her lap and produced a crumpled pack of cigarettes. She put one to her mouth, offered me one across the table, I took it and put it in my shirt top pocket for later. I flicked open my old and faithful Zippo which sparked on the first click and lit her cigarette. Under the dimly light of the alcove, her end glowed and then a slow cloud of smoke reached up to the shade to tease and play around the light.
She drowned her drink, shudder as it hit the back of her throat, then her stomach, in an all too familiar reaction and then leant back, looking at my face.
I scanned her face as she was struggling to focus on mine. "Not her first drink tonight." I thought to myself. I would say mid 40's and very attractive, soft light brown eyes, shoulder length hair. Minimal makeup but lipstick and matching coloured nail varnish.
She appeared dressed for the weather, heavy warm overcoat, yet unbuttoned, exposed a low-cut red dress, her neckline exposed and a neck naked of jewellery. Her breasts were mostly hidden, apart from the V shape they made when in a too tight, uplifting bra, threatening to pop out at any time.
And as her bottom half was hiding under the table I could only imagine how far or rather how short the dress was. She let a small smile crossed her lips as though she could read my mind.
"So, you like?" she asked, taking another drag of her cigarette before killing it in the near full ashtray.
I blushed, as though she had read my mind. "Yes... hmm, sorry for staring, nice dress."
She raised her glass for a recognition of the compliment, as I drowned my shot and silently acknowledged to Jimmie for two of the same.
"Married?" she asked.
"Yes, you?"
"Yes, 12 years today."
