Finish Your Beers Day!
You by the door.
You in the back.
You too. Slap the shit back, ya'll.
Both of you, now, slam your pint glasses down on the faux wood table top.
Slam from the man by the door. Smack goes the lady in the back.
In unison, you hear your clap in stereo. You both look up to ask "what was that?" You both look up into each other's eyes. You both get up, step out from behind your tables, and you give out the grades.
shorter than I'd like but her tiny smile packs a whallop. i hate her tits but love her hips. i just hope she doesn't open her mouth and say she's the one for me.
tall enough but his nose is stupid. however, and this is good because this point is non-negotiable for me, his eyes are prettier than my mother's. his hand's on his belly, i want it on mine. if he's sweet i'll kill him in his sleep and get the hell outta there. tonight.
Now move to each other, move through the bar towards where you got no choice but to keep going to, to the center of the floor, just in front of the waitress' service station, and hold hands. Not like you're gonna be holding hands a year and a half from now on the way to brunch. You, take her left hand in your right. Lift it from her side and watch it. You, watch it too, but also watch him watching it. Watch him watch his thumb glide along the skin of the back of your hand. This is the first time he's doing that. This is the first time he's touching your skin. You haven't even kissed yet.
This is the first time he's touching your skin.
Happy Finish Your Beers Day!