My fingers plucked the soft strings of my guitar as I sat in the stairwell of my tiny apartment. I though of the night's events fondly and how I might later regret my choice. The Low E-String buzzed and I immediately silenced the chord.
We'd talked a few times. She had dark brown hair and green eyes, a smile that could melt you from across the room like cheap birthday cake candles. Her body was that befitting a bronzed goddess. Her name was Angel.
We'd talked a few times, I said before. Light talk, full of innuendo and plays on words, a sort of cat and mouse game I played with dames to see how smart they really were, to see if they had a sense of humor. She had my full attention – a woman like that deserved nothing less.
She'd heard I was leaving town. It was a rushed job, middle of the night kind of thing for me. I wanted as far from this town and its pain and misery as I could get. And she wanted to meet the guy that made her smile and laugh, which had kept her on her toes. So we met for a drink. I was all hers till close, I'd said. And she was going to take advantage of every moment.
We sat at the bar, she sipping on something with bourbon in it and me sipping a sprite with lemon. I'd been off the sauce for a while. It just brought back painful memories and gave me nightmares. I didn't need or want that but was under the occasional impression it would help me not feel. Which sometimes was good, others, not so good.
And then she got to it. Her whole story of how she'd broken up with her boyfriend, he'd dumped her and left. She lived upstairs with friends, some who lived there, others left – kind of like a commune. She called it her "hotel."
We talked a few hours about her plans and her dreams and how she was hoping to make something better for herself. I sat and sipped my sprite while she opened up more about everything. I just sat there and listened to it all – not judging, not criticizing, but just taking it all in.
Before we knew it, the bartender made the last call. She warmed up her drink a bit and offered me something. I said I was fine and sipped the last of my watered down sprite.
It was time to go and we both found ourselves walking up the hill to my place. We sat on the steps and talked for a bit longer. She asked me if she could smoke a joint.
"Umm, no." I didn't explain why, but told her it wasn't a good idea in this neighborhood. So she asked about inside. I replied landlord didn't allow it. Neither did I for that matter. But I did invite her up.
We sat on the couch and talked a bit longer. She was a beautiful woman and I knew she was about to offer to show me just how much more beautiful she was.
But the topic strayed back to her roommates and how much she missed being able to take a decent bath. So I offered mine and even offered some bubble bath and she accepted on condition that I keep her company during her bathe.
