1999, Playaaaaa

1999, Playaaaaa 1999, Playaaaaa

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Tags

Summary

about a dirty man in a dirty time.

Tags

Summary

about a dirty man in a dirty time.

Content

Submitted: June 20, 2012

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: June 20, 2012

A A A

A A A


 

He’d noticed that she had been giving him the odd glance, eyes lingering for a split second long enough for it not to be an accident, from the other side of the room for a good half an hour now. He knew that she knew he had caught her eyes upon him, considering him, on more than one occasion. Indeed, her last couple of moves in this enticing game had given her away as she had allowed the slightest of smiles to appear in the very corner of her perfectly small mouth.
He allowed himself to finish up his drink and casually tap the last ash from his cigarette before stubbing it out, getting up and moving over to the bar making sure not to appear overly confident. At first he did not set out in her exact direction, but allowed himself to assess the room and keep half an eye on her by walking slightly parallel to her position for a moment. She was well within his peripheral vision as he strode and again he noticed her eyes upon him. But she hadn’t gambled on this and her eyes widened slightly as she began to wonder where exactly he was going.
She was his.
He suddenly skirted around a table and gave one of the men sat there a knowing tap on the shoulder, making sure the man’s reaction of “who the fuck” was hidden from the woman at the bar by his own body position. Raising his hand in apology knowing from the other side, to the woman, it would look like “see y’around buddy” he turned to face her direction for the first time making sure their eyes met. She smiled. He dared to tease once more and slowed his pace taking in all the people stood around the bar before sidling up next to the woman, not facing her openly and leaning with his weight on the bar so that he would be at her eye level. She was petite, just his type.
11:28 pm.
It had been played perfectly.
He wouldn’t expect anything less of himself. Now all that was left was the home run hit.
Who knows, they may even be fucking in the toilets by the time midnight came around.
A new millennium. Everything was possible now, he thought.
He turned his head to speak, mouth half open as if to heighten the anticipation of his words.
At that precise moment the whole bunch of year 2000 balloons a foot behind his head exploded. The waiter, himself drunk, had been showing off his flaming cocktail making skills with his cutesy little blow torch to a group of giggling tarts. As he put the torch to one side he had forgotten to turn it off and the heat had got a little too close to the balloons, setting the entire lot off with a loud bang. It had sounded like a gun shot.
The man stood still, eyes closed, the casual parting of his mouth now changing to a worried grimace. He did nothing for a second. To him it seemed like longer. Then he turned and shuffled awkwardly away, never really letting either foot leave the ground completely, making sure that no shit escaped down either trouser leg out onto the floor.


© Copyright 2018 Wesley Emmison. All rights reserved.

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