Girl at the bar or, The One that got away

Saturday night I worked at my bar. My bar job is one of those gigs that is not super difficult, but requires odd hours. Working from 9:30 p.m. until 2:30 a.m. is just a natural drag on the system. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy it immensely and it often generates great fodder for the blog. Take last night for example.

Saturdays aren't the busiest night for An Tua Nua, and because of that, the back room remained closed. There were some folks who came in looking to dance including a trio of girls, one of whom really caught my eye.

She was wearing a blue shirt and jeans, her sneakers were bright and multicolored, pinks, blues and reds. her skin was the color of coffee when cream and sugar are added and her hair, wavy and brown fell to the middle of her back. She had a pink flower above her left ear. When I saw it, I was transported back to Hawaii and evenings spent on the beach at a luau in front of a fire pit.

She was gorgeous!

The first time I saw her she smiled at me. I looked away. Did that just happen? That did just happen. I thought to myself. Later she approached me and asked if we would be opening the back of the bar up for dancing. At the time I didn't know if we were, but I told her I would check on it for her. When I found out we weren't opening the back I found her again and told her she could make a dance floor where she was.

For the next hour or so, She and her friends hung out near a table with stools around it listening to the music and enjoying beverages. We made eye contact a few more times, each time she would smile at me. After the second time I decided that I would talk to her. It was at that moment that my boss called me to help clean up a spill.

I turned my attention to the mess that had been made, mopping up the mess and removing the broken glass. When I returned from the the kitchen area, I looked for the girl at the table where she had been, but she was not there. A small amount of panic seeped in to my gut. A quick walk around the bar area informed me that she was not there. Bathroom? It was more wishful thinking than anything else at that point. I knew she was gone. I had missed my chance.

It really sucks, I should have spoken to her earlier in the evening. Now, all I can do is hope she comes back the next time I'm working...