Carrie watched as the short black girl weaved her way through the press of bodies and sat primly at the bar. She wasn't dressed in any of the outrageous stuff that all the other women were trying to pull off. On the contrary, she was clad in a simple dark-blue pair of jeans, and a black low-cut top, emphasizing her curvy shape. She turned her head and looked straight at Carrie, not really seeing her, and Carrie admired the long straight fall of her jet-black hair. She was mixed with something, Carrie mused, as she took a seat beside her. A little white maybe? Some Indian? The black girl peered at her over the rim of her drink, her large dark eyes questioning.
"Hi. I've never seen you in here before," Carrie murmured, leaning into her space, and instead of leaning back, like most people did with women of Carrie's size, the little thing simply put down her cup and the smooth mahogany-toned surface of the bar (just a little darker than her skin) and smiled a little.
"No. This is my first time in a bar like this," she replied, her smile getting deeper, and Carrie could smell the liquor mixed with mint on her breath. Carrie ran a hand through her own choppy russet hair.
"
Really
," Carrie said, a little doubtfully. "You just...walked in a lesbian bar all by your lonesome." Carie watched as she nodded, the ends of her dark hair brushing against her neck. "So you're not a lesbian, then."
"No," came the reply, and there was a deep, slow sip. "I think not."
"That's too bad," Carrie said flippantly, although it was
really
too bad. "I would totally be hitting on you right now, just for the record."
She felt the weight of those dark eyes flick back to her, and there was another slow smile, a flash of white against brown full lips.
"Well. Let's just pretend I am. Just for the record."
Carrie stared at her, and she held the stare, which was very unusual because Carrie was using the Piercing Stare. Carrie sighed a little, giving up, and put out her hand to be shook.
"Carrie. And you are?"