Her name was Raine Snow and she was a dream.
First unanticipated, then poetic and epic and transcendent in that order, continually confusing, and finally gone in the groggy early morning.
It was a couple of weeks ago, and I was at the Hogshead, a whisky bar on the Upper West Side. It wasn't my regular, but I'd been there a few times before.
Rehearsal in Hell's Kitchen had been frustrating -- after flailing around the entire morning I was finally starting to make some progress right when the day ended and we had to stop. As was my habit in times like this when I wanted to keep my thoughts from moving on to the rest of life, instead of going home I went out in search of some scotch whisky.
I walked by On the Rocks on 49th, but it looked crowded so I hopped an Uber to the Upper West Side and slipped into the Hogshead. Like many New York locations, the Hogshead was narrow on the sidewalk but deep and long inside. There was a full bar at the front, and a series of nooks extending towards the back with one or two tables each.
I stepped up to the bar, and after a quick sweep of the displayed bottles, ordered a double Laphroaig with a single ice cube. The girl behind the bar was pretty cute, short and pert with strawberry blonde hair and a light lavender blouse on. She smiled warmly at me and said, "Here you go, sweetie," as she slid the drink over. I tipped her two bucks and carried the glass back to one of the nooks in the back.
Dropping my bag on the chair next to me, I sat down with my notebook to work out some thoughts from rehearsal. The scotch was rich and smoky, and each sip percolated through my entire body. Warm and comfortable, I sunk into the work. I was down to the last finger when I sensed someone standing nearby.
She never said exactly what drew her to me, but in thinking about it afterword -- it must have been the pin. I had been to ComicCon a few months back, and my green canvas messenger bag had a big Avenger's "A" pin right in the middle. We would talk about ComicCon later, a couple of times, so I'm pretty sure it was the pin.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I didn't know anything at the time -- just a sense, a sixth sense, that I was being watched. I raised my eyes an inch from my notebook and they fell upon a pair of black leather peep-toe platform heels. The toes peeping out over the platform were cute as hell, pure purple nails with silver French tips, and the second toe on each foot, longer than the first, had the colors reversed.
Just above the strap on her left ankle was a small tattoo in the shape of the Deathly Hallows triangle. Zippered tight black leather pants took over there, hugging her calves and knees and thighs.
I looked all the way up and took in her entire figure. She was tall in the heels but not towering, trim and fit with curves to die for. Her dyed black hair hung down in waves past her shoulders. It was glossy shiny like from a shampoo commercial, and scattered with streaks of rich purple.
An unadorned black velvet choker gripped her neck, highlighting the smooth, pale skin above and below, and she wore a loose fishnet shawl. But it was her shirt that made my breath catch in my throat. Everything about it was amazing.
It was a rich lush purple, skintight with short little sleeves, and it had a shiny silver Tardis right over her tits, which strained against the stretch fabric. The windows of the Tardis were cutouts, and I could see smooth pale flesh underneath. The center post between the Tardis windows covered her cleavage line, but just barely. Above the illustration, silver letters read, "I like it" and below it, across her trim flat stomach, "Bigger on the Inside".
It was short, didn't quite reach her pants, and I could see an inch or two of firm taut stomach above the leather waistband. There a teeny tiny little strip of purple panty in between there, so small you had to look to see it.
And I looked. Damn, I knew I was being way rude, but I couldn't tear my eyes away -- she was inches away from me where I sat, and my animal brain fixed on those panties, the purple line almost glowing as if radioactive.
That must be why it was suddenly so hot. I forced my head up past that audaciously curvy Tardis top and looked her in the eyes. Her purple eyes? She was looking down at me with amusement, and I got the sense that she knew I'd react this way.
Girls as hot as her knew exactly what they did to guys -- and girls who dressed like she did liked it. I have a serious weak spot for the ones who like it, who embrace their beauty and sexual power, who bask in the lustful attention they attract. She must have had some sixth sense for my weakness, because every single thing about her was assaulting my willpower.
"Hello sweetie." Her voice was clear and musical. "I'm Raine!"
I only froze for an instant before replying, "Um, hello. I'm Adam." Sensing this wasn't enough, I tried to continue, but the way she was looking at me was distracting as hell.
Her face was a work of art, with small but exquisitely defined features, almost like a doll. And her makeup made her look like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Her lips were an orchid magenta, with a darker outline. Her eye shadow was a curved gradient from the color of her lips up to the rich primary purple where her lashes splayed out like the rays of a sun. A thin line of black traced all the way around her eyes before feathering out and shrinking to a sharp point.
And her eyes were indeed purple. They were purple purple. Like her Tardis shirt, and her panty band and her toenails. Gotta give her credit for keeping to a theme.
"So Adam ... "
Shit! I was staring. Her voice broke my reverie.
"Mind if I join you?" She asked with a lilt. "Or are you waiting for someone?"
"Oh No, no, there's no one else." I stammered as fast as I could, imagining her walking away. "Please, Raine, join me. Here -"
I jumped up and scrambled to pull out the other chair, but my notebook fell on the floor and I almost knocked my drink over.
She just kept smiling, and took a step forward. She was standing extremely close now, and I could smell her exotic perfume. She waited there for a minute longer than would have been normal, watching me watch her and smell her. Then she slipped past me and gracefully sat down.
I picked up my notebook and sat down as well, looking at her for an indication of what would come next. She ignored me and flipped through the whisky list, checking out their cocktails.
"I'm going to try their Penicillin. But first, do you want to do a shot with me?"
"A shot?" I thought of this as more of a sipping bar, usually.
"To celebrate our meeting." Raine said. "It's a thing they do in Russia. But they do it with vodka, and we are going to have whisky."
"Sure ... ok. Absolutely! Let's do a shot."
I finished my Laphroaig in one gulp and shook my head with the burn. Then I held up my hand to beckoned the waitress over from the main room.
She saw me smiled as she came out from behind the bar. When she came into the side room and saw Raine, her smile froze. The waitress gave Raine a once-over, acting like she was a leper, and then turned back to me.
"Hi, I'm Sunny. What can I do for you?"
"Hi Sunny." Raine announced from the side with way too much syrupy sweetness.
"WE will have a shot of Yamasaki 12, neat." She emphasized the 'we' hard, and her message was unmistakable.
"And then I will have a Penicillin. Thank you so much, Sunny."
Sunny's jaw clenched, and she wrote it down in her notebook. Then she looked at me with stony eyes.
"And I'd like the Manhattan, please, with Bulleit Rye. Um, thank you."
Sunny stalked back to the bar without answering.
"Well she isn't very Sunny, is she? We'll have to find somewhere else to go after this round."
I didn't know what to make of the cat fighting, but I seized on the second part. She wanted to go somewhere with me! She wasn't just here for a free drink. Or was she?
Sunny came back and put a platter down on the table. She took my empty glass and mumbled "Here you go." before walking away.
"Thank you, Sunny!" Raine called after her, managing to make her name into a sneer.
Raine gestured at the shot glasses, and took one for herself. I grabbed the other, and we held them up.
