Pub night

“You’ve been looking at me all night, so I came over to say hi.”
Meagan is bold, brash – a 20something with this whole Meg Ryan thing going on – and she plopped down on the barstool next to me and extended her hand.
“I thought I’d see what you were up to, what you were all about.”
Was I looking? Yeah. It is hard to miss a woman in a black cocktail dress and heels, especially when her jublies kept trying to escape from the strapless front of the dress – and she kept reining them in with tugs and tucks.
Anyway, she started it.
I pulled up to the pub and walked to the door.
“Hey,” she said as she smoked a cigarette on a bench near the door.
“Hey.”
“Looks like you been working out.”
“Went for a little ride,” I said as I drew a thumb to the bike mounted on the rack.
“Cool.”
I was not there dressed to impress. My bike shorts were dusty, my T-shirt was a mess of salt rings (and I actually blew a big glob of snot on it; there’s three forest fires going on and the smoke is thick and I tried clearing my head with a snot rocket that was just poorly aimed), a hat to cover my helmet head and sandals.
I just wanted a beer and some conversation with like-minded individuals.
“Yeah, I noticed that there are a lot of athletes that come in here,” she said.
Meagan and Audrey, her friend and partner in crime, drew plenty of notice from the crowd. In black stiletto heels, Audrey was well over six feet tall; she wore a tight, fire engine red skirt slit to three-quarters up her thigh and a black bodice that cinched with red and black ribbons. Her jublies didn’t so much try to escape, as they were suspended in tight, round mounds near her throat.
And the tattoos. She was covered in ink; quality stuff that included the woman from 50s movie “Attack of the 50-Foot Woman” on her left arm – from shoulder to elbow.
The pair sat at a table where you had to walk 10 steps to get to. Every time Audrey climbed the steps – and she did it often – male bar patrons would watch (and the female patrons frowned).
“Man, that hair,” the guy next to me said.
Audrey had coal-black hair done in a 40s pinup style.
“I like it.”
“She’s been the topic of conversation all night,” he said. “I guess it’s OK, if you like guillotines and axes and stuff.”
Meagan said she and Audrey were apprentice makeup artists from San Jose. Audrey’s aunt was a big-time makeup artist in L.A. and they’d been training with her.
“New York, L.A., Vegas, Montana – we’ve been all over,” she said. “She finally said take a couple of weeks off, visit family.”
Both spent time here in junior high; both decided that visiting family would be a good thing. Until things got boring.
“Everybody is watching us,” she said.
“You are dressed in cocktail dresses.”
“Hey, sometimes a girl just wants to get out – our families were driving us nuts.”
“Well, there’s that.”
“Uh-huh. We just want to get drunk.”
Meagan continued to tell her story when a realization spread across her face.
“Oh, man, I was on my way to pee when I stopped to check you out.”
“The bathroom is up those stairs, all the way back in the hallway.”
“Oh, cool. So, you going to watch me walk up the stairs?”
“Only if you want me to.”
“Yeah, that would be cool.”

Pub night never ceases to entertain.

1 comments:

Kimbolina said...

"Y'all ain't from 'round here, are ya?"

Well, ThomG, sounds like we need to talk! See, there are more people out there...who like what you "stand for." Enjoy it!