It was Friday night. It had been a long and punishing week at the office. I was out drinking with some workmates, letting off some steam, enjoying the start of the weekend.
The summer air was thick and humid. A storm was brewing in the distance.
I was at the pub when I first saw you. You were with someone; it could've been a colleague, could've been your girlfriend, could've been your wife. I didn't know and I didn't care either. All I remember was there was a pint of beer in front of you, and a glass of white wine in front of her. I can't remember anything else about her. I can't remember what she was wearing or even what colour her hair was, only what she was drinking.
You looked in my direction, just for a fleeting instant. She watched your face as the direction of your gaze momentarily left hers. The room was busy and loud.
There was something curious in your glance, but I didn't read too much into it. I was waiting at the bar, grabbing a fresh pint of beer, when we first briefly locked eyes. I paid for my beverage and walked back to my table.
I knew you were checking me out as I walked away. I know these faded blue jeans are tight, and I know my butt is juicy as fuck. I've been told before. I've been complimented many times.
But did you notice anything else about me? Was there anything else you liked? Or was it just my fat arse?
Right now, it didn't seem to matter. You were with her, whoever she was. I saw you glance across at me again, just as I sat back down. I dipped back into the stream of conversation with my mates, and for a moment, you were forgotten.
Minutes ticked by. As time passed, I noticed that you paid less attention to her, and more to me, some nameless stranger sitting on the other side of a crowded pub.
And then I noticed your friend tilt her neck back to drain her wine glass. It looked like you were offering to buy her another, but she shook her head and declined. She stood, and so did you, but only to hug her goodnight.
I watched, expecting you to leave with her, but you didn't. You sat back down, alone.
My pint glass was empty again. I returned to the bar and you sidled up next to me, leaning casually on the woodwork, ordering a fresh drink for yourself.
I took a moment to check you out. Long black hair, a thick beard, and piercing dark brown eyes. A black t-shirt, a pair of faded black jeans, and a pair of Converse sneakers. Your wallet was attached to your belt with a silver chain.
Fuck yeah, rockstar. You ticked every box without even trying. And you looked like you'd be a total fucking monster in the sack.
I saw you turn around as if you were looking at something on the wall, but I knew what you were doing. You tried your best to hide it, but a man with an arse as thick as mine knows when he's being ogled. I felt your eyes groping my cheeks.
I exactly knew what you wanted. And if you made the right moves, you could have it.
"G'day," I said.
"Hey," you replied.