Joe sat at the circular bar, his mind in a cloud. The evening had been dull so far, with the usual crowd of barflies having flown away. Across from him, a familiar-looking man walked in. Joe examined the man's face. "Jay?" he thought with a frown. Deborah is a fairly attractive bartender, one whom Joe has come to know through years of being a regular customer.
"Hey, Deb. Is that Jay?"
"Yes, that's him."
"Wow. I haven't seen him in at least 2 years."
Minutes pass as Joe ponders whether to walk around the bar and say hello. Jay is a quiet man, a private individual. He doesn't drink, and Joe has already put away 3 vodka tonics. The bar patrons next to Jay settle their tab, and walk out. Joe decides it's the perfect opening to renew his old acquaintance.
"Jay! How are you, man? I haven't seen you in a long time."
"Hi. I'm sorry, what's the name again?"
Joe groans quietly, as he squelches his own insecurities. "It's Joe. We used to talk quite a bit a couple of years back. One night I even talked you into meeting me at Franco & Jamie's."
"Oh yeah! I haven't been there in a long time. The place has really gone downhill."
Joe decides not to argue the point, talking instead about the mutual acquaintances present earlier in the evening. “. . . Bev told me that she thinks she intimidated you. You know how I met her? I was sitting over there past the blender, when she and her friends came up wanting to sit in the same section. She made no bones about wanting me to move. Ha! What could have been a lot of snooty tension ended up in a great conversation. That’s how I got to meet Sue and Lyla too.”
“Those ladies like to have a great time together,” said Jay disapprovingly.
“Yeah, they sure do. It’s like being with a bunch of drunk guys sometimes,” Joe chimed in, realizing Jay was not in a very sociable mood.
After some light drivel about food choices, the topic changed to the Reds game. “They’re winning 5-0, not that it matters anymore. They have the best record since July. Too late!”
A young voice intrudes. “But they’re winning!” Joe glances past Jay, and is transfixed for a moment. Here is this gorgeous girl who looks about 25 joining the fray. Big blue eyes and an attractive do with copper-blond tips. Perfect facial features—the high cheekbones and small upturned nose on a silky-smooth complexion. Slender, tan, absolutely a vision. Just past her was an older lady, who looked sixtyish to Joe. She seemed eager to listen in.
“I was just telling Jay that their record since July is the best in the game, but it’s too late. It doesn’t matter anymore. If they could only get consistent pitching . . .”
“It matters to me,” the girl quipped. “I’m a big Reds fan.”
Joe quickly tried a different tack. “I’m a fan too, since the days of the Big Red Machine. I’ve watched them off and on ever since.”
“What do you think of their new manager?”
Manager? Manager! Joe knew nothing about recent Reds management. “Well, if he doesn’t get pitching up to snuff, it doesn’t really matter. That’s what they really need.”
The conversation weaved on from there, with Joe almost leaning over Jay, to hear better in the noisy room. Suddenly, Jay excused himself to go to the men’s room. Joe continued the exchange with minimal interruption. He learned her name was Susan, and the lady next to her was her mother. Free association somehow mutated the topic into gambling, and then to travel.
“I’m not a gambler. What do you think of the Argosy?” asked Joe.
“Argosy is sleazy. It has all these tacky hicks, all over. If you want to try a casino, go to [forgets name completely]. It’s modeled after the Bellagio in Vegas.”
“I’ve never been to Vegas. The ritziest casino I’ve been to is in Monaco,” Joe offered not too innocently. It couldn’t hurt for her to know he was well-traveled. “That’s their bread and butter there.”
“Oh, where’s that?”
Pause. She didn’t look the dumb-and-ignorant type to Joe at all. “It’s in Monte Carlo.”
“Oh! You’ve been there?”
“Yes. Been a while.”
“I really want to go to Greece . . .”
“The Greek coast is absolutely beautiful,” Joe interrupted. “Perfect blue sky, low humidity . . . The beaches are rocky, but that’s OK. I loved it.”
“I’ve heard that. I want to see Rhodes.”
“Roads?” It was Joe’s turn to have a brain fart. “The roads are twisty, but not bad at all. They follow the coast.” Eventually, he got it. “Oh! Rhodes! as in the Colossus of Rhodes.”
“Right. I’ve been up and down England, but I’ve never visited the other places in Europe. I really want to see Paris too.”
“The cote d’azur is as close as I got to Paris.”
During a pause in the conversation, Jay’s absence got noticed. Joe looked around the bar, and spotted him at the other end, talking to a couple of people. “Why did he move over there?” Susan asked.
“I’m not sure. He’s kind of a quiet guy.”
“Yeah, but people usually tell you when they’re leaving,” she said looking hurt. Her mother chimed in her agreement. “Was it us?” asked Susan unsurely.
“No, I don’t think it was you per se.” Yes, Joe actually used “per se” in casual conversation. He shuddered a second, then went on. “I think he’s just shy. My guess—and it’s only a guess—is that he felt he was intruding into our conversation, didn’t want to be in the middle. He’s a good guy, really.” Joe felt confident enough. “I guess he’s not coming back.” He moved over one seat, next to Susan . . .
. . .
Joe came back to the bar after a short bathroom break. The ladies apparently had been talking. Now, mothers are typically disapproving of older strangers getting too close to their darling innocent daughters. But not this one. She had apparently been telling Susan what a nice man Joe was during his short absence, and encouraging her to be even friendlier. Mom had more than a couple of drinks, and she was not shy about her positive opinions.
“How old do you think I am, Joe?” Susan asked.
Joe answered quite honestly, “twenty-five.”
“I am thirty-four.”
“No way!”
“I am really flattered that you think so.”
“Well, you said you were starting your Masters program, and you definitely look like a recent college graduate . . .” Joe has had trouble guessing women’s ages before, but not usually when they were very young, or seemingly so.
“I think you are a very nice man.”
“I think you are beyond lovely.”
. . .
As they motioned to Deborah to bring their checks, Susan asked Joe if he was planning to go to Franco and Jamie’s. She had apparently overheard the conversation with Jay earlier. Joe said he could. “Let’s all go,” Susan said. He could almost hear his heart beating in his throat. The danger of losing his cool was as scary as the proposal was exciting. This was all moving into a higher level. The ladies went out to the parking lot. Joe stood up, and took the deep breath he had been needing.
. . .
Susan and mom followed Joe to the new place. This restaurant and bar featured live music, and it attracted a varied crowd. They found three seats at the bar, no simple feat, and ordered drinks. Joe’s head was in a cloud once more, if a much more turbulent one. “This can’t be really happening,” he thought. It all seemed too good to be true. “Yeah, there she goes . . . I knew it!” he agonized. Sure enough, she knew several of the band members personally, including the leader. And when they were too busy to talk to her, there was no shortage of smiling faces seeking her attention. Overhearing some of these side events, he learned she had been a cheerleader for one of the major GCL high schools. Even a prominent doctor Joe’s father had known stepped into the picture briefly. “Take it for what it is, stupid,” Joe told himself sternly. “If this is as far as it goes, it was still worth it. How can I compete with all this attention?”
Joe found himself watching bar seats and purses for the ladies much of the time. Yet to his pleasant surprise, it all settled down eventually. He was able to have a fairly good time with Susan after all. Talk, dance, amazing smiles, more talk . . . And all the while, like a buzzing in his other ear, he heard encouragement from her drunken mom—which was strange, but more than useful. “Susan told me she likes you. She wants to be here with you. Don’t doubt yourself.”
The evening ended in the parking lot, or so Joe thought. Fond goodbyes and exchanged telephone numbers—Susan had even entered hers into Joe’s cell phone personally. (As only one of the night’s unlikely twists, she had the exact same phone.) Susan drove away with mom. Joe quickly followed them, until their exit off the highway. “Beep! beep!” Honk and wave.
Joe was nearly home when his cell phone rang and buzzed in his pocket. Off came the obtrusive seatbelt, and he answered eagerly.
“Hi, Joe?” said the sweet voice.
“Yes, hi. Did you make it home OK?”
“Yes, we’re home. I just wanted to tell you what a great time we had tonight. Let’s go to that place downtown we talked about, next Friday, right?”
“Yes, let’s do that. You said you wanted me to pick you up, right? I can’t write anywhere right now, since I’m still on the road; but if you give me an address, I think I can remember it.”
“Just call me later in the week. I just wanted to say good night, and thanks.”
Joe drove slowly and carefully the rest of the way home. His head was too full of mush to drive in his usual confident way.
