Rain Dance - Part 4

Rain Dance - Part 4

4.
It’s a few months later and I’m over my bruised ego and just left with the warm glow of her.

I’m working lates, as I normally do, in the classy Balmoral Bar Prince mixing cocktails for the usual crowd of dopey rich punters. These morons thank you for spending three times as much on a drink as they’d spend in the Black Rose tavern over the road. Mind you, they would lose their wallet.

I’m pretty observant as a rule, I mean, you need to be in this game. Spot the best tippers and I literally double my weekly salary with backhanders. Anyway it’s late and the bar tonight is busy. There’s been a swanky big book launch based on some American rock shit, and the ‘in’ crowd have left the salon dinner and fallen into here. Tito, the Bar Manager, looks slightly terrified at the crowd and has slipped the music up in both volume and style. He’s more used to a sedate Balmoral gathering and late night safe jazz as opposed to the acid genre.

I, on the other hand, am in my element. I’m mixing cocktails like Tom Cruise and the party is literally flocking around me.

I spot her immediately. She walks in as cool as you like through the main doors, sunglasses on as though she’d just stepped out of a Portofino sunset. She’s wearing some hot designer dress though I can’t see her properly through the crowd in front of me. I continue to mix drinks whilst looking at her glide across the floor. If she’s seen me, she’s not letting on.

She makes her way to the far side of the bar and sits on a quiet table, quite alone. I continue to work, now getting rather hot and bothered. I’m making drinks and smiling for tips, yet helpless as a tightness grips me from deep inside.

I see her clearly now. She’s wearing a dark dress that sits just over her crossed legs. High heels of course. Tito has seen her and taken his moment to go over and take an order. Like me, he knows a good tipper when he sees one. I see him in brief conversation, then turn and cast me a sharp, quizzical look. She says something else and their hands touch as he places whatever cash she gave him into his pocket. He walks back through the noisy crowd and along the back of the bar to me, and shouts in my ear,

‘It’s you she wants. Be quick!’

I finish serving and Tito takes over, all seamless like. I’m a mixture of confusion as I make my way down the bar towards her. As I do so, she is looking at me non stop and I feel intimidated, like I’m in a spotlight or something.

I get to her and she peers over her sunglasses at me.

‘Well hello,’ she says, all breathy like, ‘fancy meeting you here.’

I want to say something smart, sophisticated even, but my mind is scrambled and there’s nothing coming out. She motions for me to sit by her side, so I do, all easy like.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she says, taking off her shades and fixing me with her electric green eyes.

‘Funny that,’ I say, confidence coming from somewhere, ‘because the last time you saw me you’d dropped me off in the woods.’

She smiled at that.

‘Country air is so invigorating don’t you think?’ She says this then laughs out loud and I can’t help but smile back.

‘Quite an evening though wasn’t it!’ she adds and I blurt out a

‘Yea, it was.’

We wait a moment, life all around us and our thoughts taking in desire.

‘So what time do you finish?’ she asks.

‘11:30,’ I say.

‘Good,’ she says, and stands to face me. I look up. God, she is beautiful.

‘I’m in suite 9,’ she says, leaning forward and slipping a room card down the front of my pants.

‘9,’ I reply, ‘that’s my favourite number.





So there you have it. 9 years of blip. Well just over following the odd blip missing in action. Blipland is a fine place and I’m lucky I found it, or it found me.

I would like to dedicate this blip to dear Admirer who many of us miss and to one of my best friends who I love dearly and who is quite poorly at the moment.

There are no straight lines, only your own lines. The least we can do is keep on drawing new lines whilst we can.

Peace and love,

A X