It was Saturday night, around a few minutes to midnight. I walked into the club to find my friends. The place was busy with young people, and a lot of middle aged ladies out enjoying themselves, but I couldn't see any of my friends. I was about to turn and head to the Twifford Arms when you caught my eye. You were sat at a table on a tall stool just a few metres from the bar. It was a busy and modern bar. Soft lighting illuminated the walls from behind the rows of spirits, and a strip of light under lit the bar surface. The bar was made of strong frosted glass designed to capture the faces of the customers and bar attendants. It was this kind of up lighting that illuminated you, casting you in an aura of light much like an angel. You had drinks at your table that matched your pink cocktail complete with umbrella, pineapple, and cherry. It didn't look like this was your drink of choice, but you continued to sip at it absentmindedly through a twisty straw.
You were wearing a black satin style dress that hung from your shoulders by the straps and followed the contours of your body to your waist. From here the dress flared out a little over your thighs. In addition to this you were decorated by a lightly pinked sash that said "Little Miss Careful." I looked around the club and saw another 10 or so women with similar sashes. It was clear that you were a member of a hen party, made clearer by "Little Miss Bride" walking past me to the toilet. She looked like she may have had a few more of those pink cocktails than you had. She was nervously and quickly followed by "Little Miss Bridesmaid" who had a look of guilt and worry about her.
What captured my attention about you was everything in the way your hair fell over your shoulder, the way your dress complimented every part of you, and from my brief observations, even your persona. It was even in the way the light lit you up and framed your gentle movements. You looked like an angel - albeit a bored one.
I plucked up my courage, a shot of rum and ice, and walked towards you. 'What do I say?', 'do I walk past you?', 'why am I doing this again?', 'Oh, shit! I've been standing in front of you saying nothing for too long.'
I finish my drink in a nervous hurry as you looked at me quizzically.
"You look like you needed that" you said. My inner 14 year old child was screaming 'she talked to me, she talked to me.'
"Ha! It can help, sometimes" I said rather too quietly.
"Sorry, what did you say?" you shouted over the heavy beat of music from the dance floor.
I sat down opposite you. You looked more beautiful than at any moment before.
"This is going to seem a bit strange..." So this is how I am going to start. I said to myself. Interesting!
"I made this commitment to spread happiness through people I meet by telling them nice things about them. I wanted to tell you something I thought you would like to hear." I wasn't entirely sure where I was going with this, but it appeared to have you listening.
"I wanted to tell you how amazingly beautiful you look." There, I had said it and now I felt myself breathe with some relief.
"Really?" You said, "In what way?" You were not making this easy for me, and judging by your smile you knew it too. i told you all the things I had noticed about you from my observation point earlier. I included more detail about your smile, and how deep and naughty yours eyes seemed.
"Naughty?" you accused. You weren't offended, but you were surprised. I explained how I thought you were being naughty in making me feel more nervous. You laughed and asked if I wanted another drink. You put your pink cocktail down and came back with two tequila's, salt and lime, and two beers.
"So, what's with the sashes?" I immediately regretted the question as I already knew the answer, more likely, I suspected I did.
"We're all part of a hen party" you told me rather disinterestedly. "They're supposed to represent our personalities."
"So, you are clearly a very careful person, then?" It seemed such a stupid question as I feared it may antagonise you.
"Apparently. I've been designated the one who makes sure everyone gets home safely. The perk of the job is that I get to keep hold of the kitty money. That's how I paid for our drinks." You smiled that cheeky smile that made your eyes glint.