(This is one of those tales I've been meaning to tell for a few months, but am just now getting around to writing down. It happened early last winter, probably around October or so)
Subtitled: "I think I've just met my next future girlfriend"
I was having a pretty normal night at work – busy, no problems worth mentioning. A group of girls walk into the bar, several I've never seen her before. One especially stands out – she is a *knockout* – Bettie Page figure, long brown hair, just enough cleavage showing to be intruiging, cute black glasses. I ask to see her ID, and compliment her glasses.
She smiles and says "Thanks! I like yours, too", lightly touches my forearm, flashes me a brilliant smile, and says "Could I get a cup of just ice, please?"
"I can do that." I say, and fetch her a cup of ice. She says thanks again, squeezes my forearm gently, and walks off into the bar. After she takes a few steps, she turns, makes eye contact, holds up the cup of ice and nods her head slightly, indicating that I should watch what she's doing.
Heck, I was watching anyways!
She looks around for a moment, and sees a group of three trendy-ish guys standing at the bar. She walks over next to them, leans against the bar, and *SIGH*'s while shaking the empty glass, the ice ringing.
The three guys fall all over themselves offering to buy her a drink. She accepts, and thanks the buyer, again flashing that brilliant smile and doing the little arm squeeze thing before excusing herself and walking back to her gal pals.
But before she rejoins her friends, she half-turns to me again, holds up the drink, and silently mouths "thanks!.
I can't do anything except smile and laugh.
An hour or so later she and her friends leave, she's the last one. I'm still at my post by the door, so she pauses on the way out.
"Thanks again for the … ice!" and she tells me her name.
I smile and say "I'm Alex. Nice to meet you. Y'know, years ago – that trick would've worked on me."
"Nice to meet you, too. So… it wouldn't work on you? You'd be… (and here she reaches out and touches my chest with her index finger) … a challenge?"
She starts to walk away, trailing her fingertip across my chest as she goes. "See you around!"
She's so wrong. I wouldn't be a challenge at all.
-Alex in Alaska
