I was at the bar one night, just minding my buisnees enjoy my fine pour, mistacism and, wonder came floating by in a little black number that i could look at for days. She grabbed a drink and waited for it at the bar. We'd met briefly a few times before, as everyone in a small town does at one point or another. A soft spoken well to do girl, i can't remember her name now. Slender build, blonde hair a girl, and a smile that could buy anything.
She began a converstion cuase her boyfriend was playing pool, i guess if you will she was just being polite. I wasn't going to argue with the girl and of coarse, so i offered the seat next to me and began to enjoy my drink. She asked what i was drinking, I said
"Whiskey"..."Ice", and flicked my glass as i set it down on my worn out coaster. She began to talk of life, finishing school and enjoying living in Kennebunkport while here.I couldn't belive that my alcoholic fishing village was the safe haven for pretty , sweet, and nice girls.
I didn't notice but the time flew and so did the drinks, i could tell dhe was trying to keep up with me. One turned to 3, 3 turned to 8 double for me, and 8 of whatever fruity concoction she was drinking. I felt bad, she was drunk. Her boyfriend walk up to the bar and was angry.
He saw how drunk she had gotten, and who she'd got drunken with.
He didn't try to cuase any trouble but i could see his "boundries" had been crossed. I wasn't worried, guy like me in my home town, bad day for him.
I have to say though, that girl barely knew me, and just wanted a good converstion out of me, and share a laugh. That's a good person, good friend, something i'd like to srtive for one day. Hope for the future.
I'm a writer of all kinds, mostly poems, but i write small stories of my life to. My favorite poet is jack keruoac, and i base my writeing on his almost.