Scene 2wo

I stare at the dirty wooden table with drunken eyes. The pitcher of beer stands in the center, its golden shade of yellow dissolving into the grayish-white foam. Ashes and grains of salt lie scattered over the water-stained calendar of the bar’s upcoming events. The music overcomes the crowd with a fuel of intense passion as everyone drinks and talks, enjoying but not paying attention to, the band on stage. If there is any place where I belong, it is here.

Out of the corner of my eye I see my friend lean forward to put out his ashed cigarette and decide to snap out of my thoughts by jumping into his cowboy hat. When he leans across the table, stretching his arms and body over the array of condiment bottles, sugar trays, beer mugs, and shot glasses to retrieve his pack of Marlboro Lights, I stand, grabbing his trademark with one quick swipe. His reflex is a look of surprise as I lean back in my chair and stretch both legs onto the table. Then, he smiles with joking eyes.

“You ain’t no cowgirl!” Maybe not, but I know with that hat on that I am at least desirable.

“But ain’t I cute?” I purr, setting my chair back onto all fours and leaning towards the table so he can see my big, brown eyes. He places a new cigarette into his lips before answering.

“Darling,” begins his response, but he has none except to swipe his hat back and place it over his short, dark hair with a cowboy tip to me. He crashes into his chair, laughing as he lights the new, white cigarette.

Laughter booms across the table as I press out my bottom lip to fake the pout of a reprimanded child. It is all in fun and games. Everyone knows that this is nothing but a part of Wednesday night’s entertainment.

We meet here once a week to flirt, laugh, and have fun with one another. Some nights a newly formed couple will go home together, but we know that it is only due to the magic of the blues and the spirit from our beer.