Late Night Drink
I had this dream a week or two ago. It was similar to what’s below, but I filled out the details a bit. That’s the thing with dreams…they can be very real, but make absolutely no sense when your try to describe them either to someone else or simply in words.
Oh well, hope you enjoy…
Late Night Drink
It’s been a long day. Having spent most of it in an office teaching and training, I was exhausted. Dinner was a quick salad during the evening session. not exactly filling, but would do for sustenance. Right now, I just wanted a quick drink to settle down before bed.
I walked into the hotel bar. Looking around, I wondered if I had misjudged the time. I raised my arm and looked down at my watch. 10:23pm. It’s late, to be sure. But not that late. Maybe everyone else had a long day and turned in early.
When I made it to the bar, there was only one other soul in sight. A woman sat 2 seats to my left. I glanced at her and the first thought that came to mind was…classy. She wore a finely pressed cream-colored skirt suit, complete with matching jacket. I hadn’t realized it, but it was rather chilly in the bar. A real contradiction to the ridiculous heat that was radiating just outside the friendly confines of the hotel.
She was beautiful. A little past shoulder-length brown hair. Early 50’s, maybe?
Her eyes were fixed to the television behind the bar. It was tuned to one of the cable news channels. Someone talking about something having to do with Congress. These stories are so plentiful these days, I’ve tended to tune them out. But I did recognize the picture they had on the screen.
“Did they find anything on him?”, I asked.
Without talking her eyes from the television, she said, “What now?”
“The representative from Tennessee.”
She turned and looked over at me. “No, they just keep repeating the same facts they have for the past 4 hours.”
Her eyes were bright and sparking. Green seemed to be the color they chose today. Mesmerizing came to mind.
“No real surprise there”, I said. I swiveled my head around to the rest of the room and asked, “We seem to be the only ones here this evening. What has you here so late?”
“Oh, I’m trying to come down from a long day. I’ve been ‘on’ for about 13 hours straight and I needed some liquid depressant.” She turned to me and smiled.
I smiled back at her. “Same.” I offered my hand to her, “My name is Lee.”
“Jen”, she said, taking my hand. Hers was soft, but firm.
“Jen, as in Jennifer? Or Jen as in ‘Just Jen’?”, doing my best Sean Hayes in Will & Grace impression.
She laughed. “Jen as in Jennifer.”
“Nice to meet you, Jen as in Jennifer.”
The bartender approached us.
“Can I get you something, sir?”, he asked. I looked at his name tag. “George, my good man, I’ll have an Old Fashioned, please. Neat.”
I turned to Jen. “Can I get you another? What are you drinking?”
She looked down at her glass. “Yes, that would be great.” She turned to George. “Martini. Up with a twist.”
“Coming up”, George said.
“An Old Fashioned? That’s very, I don’t know, 1950’s of you”, she said.
I turned again to her. “What can I say, I’m classy. What had you ‘on’?”, I asked.
“I’m sorry?”, she asked, still trying to process the last sentence.
“You said you’ve been ‘on’ for about 13 hours. What had you ‘on’?”
“Oh”, she said. “Press junkets.”
“Press junkets, huh? For what, if I may ask?”
“I’m in the middle of promoting a movie,” she said.
“Wow, good for you”, I said. “Are you an actor? Producer? Writer? What?”
She laughed. “You’re full of questions. I’m an actor, actually. I’m promoting the movie I’ve been working on for about 18 months.”
“Wow, again,” I said. “Is it any good?”
She laughed again. “I certainly hope so. We’ve spent enough time and money on it.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“But seriously”, she said, “from what I’ve seen and from how the shoot went, I’m pretty optimistic. It’s looking like a winner.”
“That’s good to hear”, I said. “I must admit, I don’t normally have time for television or movies these days. How long have you been an actor?”
“Going on 30 years now.”
“What?!”, I gasped. “30 years? You can’t be that old. I mean, you look so good. I mean…let me pause and rewind…” I breathed in and then out.
Finally, I continued, “You look beautiful.”
Smiling, she said, “Well, thank you. And I will take your not-really-knowing-what-to-say-and-yet-saying-it-anyway as the compliment it was intended to be.”
“Your grace is appreciated”, I bowed.
“Now that you know what I do, let’s find out about you.”
I thought for a second. I mean, what am I going to say to this woman who is seemingly so accomplished? My job is so…pedestrian. Certainly not as glamorous as an actor.
“Well, this will sound very boring. But I’m a Vice President of Technology.”
She looked puzzled. “That doesn’t sound that boring.”
“For a flooring provider.”
“Oh”, she said. “That is…well…I don’t really know what that is”.
“Yeah…”, I said. “That is my current job. But I am, at heart, a software developer. I write code. Have for the past 25 years.”
“Not making it any better”, she smirked.
“That’s fair. But I’m much more of a Renaissance man than that.”
“Oh yeah? Dazzle me”, she said, folding her hands under her chin.
“Wow, put me on the spot, why don’t you…well, let me see. I have a love of singing. Have since I first discovered chorus class in 6th grade. I’ve been told I can dance a little. I have been told I can write a little. And if I weren’t employed doing what I do, I would love to be a photographer. And the pièce de résistance, I have calves some men would die for.”
She had taken a sip while I was talking, and at the last comment, she hiccup’ed a little too much and spilled some down her arm.
“Oh…my”, she laughed, trying to find her napkin.
As if on cue, George walled up with our drinks, and a very well-timed napkin. She wiped her arm down, and finished her previous drink. George swiped up the glass, and we were alone again.
“I’ve never done a spit-take like that that wasn’t for an audience. That was…uh…unexpected.”
She paused momentarily.
“I don’t know that I believe you about the calves, though. I think I’m going to need proof.”
“What, you want to see them?”, I asked.
“I mean, yes. I must see the ‘calves that some men would die for’”, she said mockingly.
“Wow, I see what you did there. Ok, fine. But first, a toast.”
“A toast? So fancy”, she said.
I held up my glass, and she followed suit. “To a late night drink”, I said, “with a beautiful woman.”
“Cheers”, she said softly.
We clinked glasses, and took a sip of our respective drinks.
“Ok”, I said. “Ask and ye shall receive.”
I put my left leg up on the chair next to me and pulled my pants leg up to my knee, revealing my dress sock (the presence of the sock not the most sexy thing in the world). I pulled that down to my ankle, and let my (I must admit) muscular calf shine. She looked up and down, evaluating my bold claim. A slight pause.
“Impressive”, she said.
I pulled up the sock and lowered the pants leg again.
“Here I thought you were just going to take your pants off.”
“That comes after the second drink”, I shot back.
I sipped more of my drink, finally feeling the alcohol take more of an effect. It was soothing. Relaxing.
“You’re kind of a nut.”
“I’ve been told that others find me disarming”, I said. “I can’t imagine why.”
“It must the calves”, she quipped.
“Ha ha…I don’t show everyone my calves on a whim like this.”
“That’s a shame”, she said, eyes twinkling again.
Is she flirting with me? I don’t do flirting that well. At least, I didn’t think I did. But yes, that was flirting. I’m sure of it.
“I mean, we can’t all be as classy as the beautiful, well-dressed thespian sitting here in front of me”, I said.
She actually blushed at that. A truly genuine smile came across her face and she said, “Thank you. That is always wonderful to hear.”
“You don’t get that, like, every day of your life?”, I inquired.
“You’d be surprised”, she said.
“That is a shame”, I said. Hey, if she can flirt, so can I.
She continued, “Comments like that come less and less these days. It’s the curse of getting older, I guess. Not to play on cliches, but I’m not getting any younger.”
“What if it just means you’re getting better?”
She paused to take a long sip of her own drink. She put the glass down, and arranged the stem of the glass just so. “I’m a little speechless”, she said.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
“No, no, no”, she said. “Just not used to that kind of directness. It’s refreshing.”
I chucked a little. “That’s me. I’m classy and refreshing.”
“So, what are you doing here, Lee? I’m assuming you’re not from this area.”
“You catch on quick! I would have thought my accent gave it away”, I said.
“There’s a touch of an accent, but I can’t place it. My guess would be the Southeast somewhere.”
“Bingo. I’m actually from Atlanta, GA. I’m in town training some newer associates in our offices out here. Yeah, I can already see your eyes rolling back in your head. It can be just as mind-numbing as you’re thinking right now.”
“I know the feeling. Not that exact one, but I can imagine. We have the same kinds of things in the industry. It’s a job, in the end”, she said.
“It is, and it’s fine. But I’ve gotten pretty good at it by now. And I approach each class with the idea of entertaining my audience. Not just go through a boring training guide. There might be a dance number or two involved”, I smiled.
“You dance in your training class?”
“I do. Wild guess…what song do you think I’d choose?”, I asked.
“I have no idea”, she said.
“Thriller.”
“Oh my word, that sounds amazing!”, she exclaimed. “I would not have guessed that.”
“You have to keep it fresh or it just gets boring, obviously. And you lose them. And they lose you. By then, you’re just spinning your wheels.”
She looked at me, “You are full of surprises.”
At that moment, the music that had been playing in the background sprang to the forefront. The song had changed and I recognized it right away. I looked above and closed my eyes for a quick second.
“I may have another surprise for you”, I said, eyes still closed.
I looked back down. “Jen as in Jennifer, would you like to dance?”
She looked back at me like I was crazy.
“Come on, there’s no one else here but me and you. This song is perfect. Please?”
She smiled and made a big fuss about getting up, as if she was reluctant. She wasn’t. She surprised me and took off her jacket. It was a sleeveless top, showing off her beautiful, toned arms.
As Swayin’ to the Music (Slow Dancing) by Johnny Rivers played, she threw her jacket over the nearest chair. She walked closer. Standing this close to me, she was even more stunning.
I took one of her hands in mine, and wrapped my other arm around her waist. She pulled into me.
Above us, Johnny sang: “It’s late at night / And we’re all alone / Just the music on the radio”
I put my head next to hers, and we swayed back and forth as if we had done this thousands of times before. When the chorus hit, I quietly hummed along. I could feel her cheek rise. And while I couldn’t see it, I knew she was smiling.
She didn’t say anything. She just followed my lead. The next two to three minutes passed in a dream. We just danced. With quiet grace. Flowing like the song was written about us.
Johnny ended with “No one else / In the whole wide world / Whole wide world”. The music faded, and I began to pull back to look at her. For just a fleeting moment, she held on to me. Not wanting the moment to end.
“You do have a beautiful voice”, she said softly, before backing up.
“Thank you”, I returned. She receded to her chair again, and I took my post at the counter. Moments passed, each of us not knowing what to say. Or how to react. Something had changed.
I finally looked at her again and smiled. She smiled right back. Genuine joy in her eyes.
I finished my drink. (How did that happen so quickly?) I thought about ordering another. I shouldn’t, though. Having not eaten much during the day, it would be a long night if I had another. Or another few.
“George?” I spun my head in the direction where the bartender was standing. “Could I get my check for the drinks? And put her first one on mine, too.”
“Yes sir,” George answered.
“Oh you don’t have to do that”, Jen said.
“It’s no worry. You’ve been a breath of fresh air. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you again, kind sir”, she said in a mockingly-formal manner.
“Will this be charged to your room, sir?” George asked.
“Yes, please”, I said.
Jen picked up her glass for another sip. I found my wallet and fished out a $20 bill for George’s tip. When he came back with the check holder, I opened it. I signed my name and room number. I put the folded $20 in the folio behind the check and closed it.
“I’m going to have to bid you good night now. Jen as in Jennifer, it has been an absolute pleasure. Thank you for the company”, I said. “And the dance.”
“You as well. I will always remember dancing with the ‘calves that other men would die for’.”
“Touché”, I chuckled. “I hope your movie does well and, for your sake, that the press junkets are mercifully over soon.”
“Me too. I’m almost done, thank goodness. Thank you so much, Lee.”
“Have a good night”, I said. I turned to walk toward the door. But I stopped and spun around to face her once again. “I hope… somehow, somewhere…we meet again.”
She paused for a split second, and said, “Me too.”
I smiled, and turned around and headed to the door.
She watched me go. When the door finally closed behind me, she gestured for George, who had returned to the end of the bar. “George, do you know who that gentleman was? His name is Lee, but I never got his last name.”
“I’m afraid I don’t, Ms. Aniston. He’s new to me.”
She smiled. “Thank you, George.” She finished her own glass, and began to gather her things. “Have a wonderful night, and I’ll see you again soon.”
George bowed his head, “You too, ma’am.”
Jen stood up, threw her coat over her arm, and walked to where I had stood. Casually, she opened the folio, gave it a quick glance, and closed it with a satisfied flick.
George smiled, and watched her walk out of the bar.