How much I don’t want tonight to end is the least dirty of them.
“I’m not thinking of anything right now. I just want to know your name,” I say and move my right hand closer to her arms that are folded on the bartop. The truth is, I’m thinking I’d like to taste her lips and see if her tongue will feel as good as I’m expecting. She finishes pouring out a shot and then looks at me as if she just remembered something.
“Stay Puft.”
I pause at her outburst. “What?” I laugh.
“Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. That’s what Dr. Ray Stanz thinks about in the movie Ghostbusters when he’s told not to think of anything. And then a giant marshmallow man traipses down 5th Avenue…”
I stare at her, brow furrowed. I know I didn’t drink enough yet to have missed any part of our conversation. Maybe she’s crazy after all. A woman who looks that good, and has a personality to match, had to have somethingoff. Maybe this is her flashing red light flaw.
She watches as I brush my fingers on her forearm and goosebumps emerge along her smooth skin. The place closed ten minutes ago, and the young barback is cleaning up around us while the two waitresses are counting their tips at the other end of the bar. I’m not usually the guy to hit on bartenders or wait around until after last call, but this woman has me under some kind of trance. I don’t want to leave her yet.
“Dan Aykroyd has two different colored eyes. He plays Ray in Ghostbusters. That’s what I thought about when I noticed your half-green, half-blue eye. And we’re in New York, and you’re this big, beautiful man that just barreled into my bar.”
Okay, not crazy after all. Just… remarkable. I realize it’s why I can’t seem to leave. I’m anchored to this moment with her.
“Your bar?”
“Well, my bar tonight. It’s my cousin's bar, but tonight it’s mine,” she says as she gives her staff, who are clearly trying to eavesdrop on our discussion, an exaggerated eye squint and scowl.
For the next two hours, we talk. All of it should seem trivial—a distraction. But for the first time in a while, I’m feeling good. Like myself again. A version of me that hasn’t surfaced for a long time. Maybe even long before the accident.
“I could watch Seinfeld for hours and never get tired of it. It’s my multitasking show. That, and Law & Order: SVU.”
“Both New York-based, but very different vibes,” I say.
“They’re fantastic and you can binge ’em, or just have them on while switching over your summer to winter wardrobe. Almost like background music. They’re timelessly enjoyable,” she says. And I picture her doing it. Sitting in a pile of clothes in the middle of the floor, watching Kramer fly through Jerry’s front door. Her laughing. She’s got a great laugh. The kind I’m finding has me smiling as a response.
“I always thought Benson and Stabler should have ended up together,” I say.
She smiles at that. “Well then, who’s the romantic now?”
“They go through a ton together and then Stabler just leaves the show. Such a letdown.”
A minute ticks by, both of us smiling in the wake of our TV discussion.
“What’s the catch, big guy?” But before I can say anything, she asks, “Married?”
I smile and slowly shake my head. “Not yet.”
She smiles at the response. “The M-word scares most men from the vicinity if a woman dares to speak it, and you say, ‘not yet.’”
“I’m not most men. And why cower from something I eventually want?”
“No, you are definitely not most men.” She stares at my mouth and then back into my eyes.
“I’m not in any rush, but I want that.” I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves a bit because, really, who says this kind of thing to a stranger in a bar? “The all-consuming feeling. The part where you decide to live life with someone instead of just on your own. Having a partner who knows you, and then wants to keep learning everything about you along the way.”
When she smiles at me this time, it hits me right in the chest. “I like that. I don’t know if I’ve witnessed it, but I like the picture you paint of it.”
“Just like those blue skies?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“You know they’re not really blue, right?” she says. “It’s just how we see it.” She shifts her eyes toward me, realizing something. “You were eavesdropping.”
“Just paying attention.”
“Good. I wanted your attention.”