At 7 30 on a Friday evening an UBER Toyota Camry driven by an attrative youthful black woman let me off a couple of car-lengths from Babes of Careytown. The car was on its way when I left a tip in response to the text message.
My high heals clacked on the concrete. The late afternoon sun was still quite warm. That's not unusual for Richmond in mid May. A slight breeze made the weather comfortable.
Will Jane actually be here tonight? I hope I see her. It's not like we've never talked before. It's not like we've never made plans to meet.
I hope she likes this dress. I'm wearing a white, pink/blue floral print sleeveless midi. The v-neck shows just a hint of clevage.
Jane Scott Hall was sitting just where I expected to find her, outside at a black metallic table on the deck. She was wearing just what I expected to see, a Turquoise strappy detail v-neck with ruffle short sleeves. Her legs looked so sexy in white shorts.
"Nice dress Stephanie," she remarked.
"Thank you," I replied then took a seat across from her.
"You look like you're dressed for the office."
I had already mentioned in chats that I work as a legal secretary but it seemed worth repeating.
"Lennox and Phelps," I said. "You're in health care right?"
"Good memory," said Jane. She added, "MRI."
We chatted freely though very little of the chat was new. Anecdotes from her childhood, things to do and places to see in and around Lynchburg seemed to dominate the conversation. So what if we said it all before. She does seem like someone whom I can like.
She finally asked, "do you play pool."
The question was not unexpected.
"Not very well," I replied.
"I'm not exactly Willy Mosconi."
That sounds like an understatement.
A band comprised of 3 dudes in black teeshirts and a female lead guitar clad in a black tanktop was playing soulful renditions of popular tunes. The pool table had just been vacated so we started a game.
"Flip a coin for the break," she said.
I agreed with a mere nod.
The cue ball clacked against the triangle of balls sending the 7 ball into the left corner. Jane came to the right side and leaned over the table lining up another shot. The 4 ball dropped into the pocket opposite her.
Not exactly Willy Mosconi huh?
"I played a lot growing up," she finally admitted.
I looked at the table seeing only one solid color remaining.
"Do you mind if we don't play another match?"
"That's fine with me."
That said, we returned to outdoor seating. We each ordered another beer which we sipped while making small talk.
"My thing was darts," I said.
