Bond is a Bar
It’s busy tonight, but then again it’s always busy. One transaction after another, with barely any time for niceties. There’s a blind spot at the end of the bar, they rarely look this way. I lean back against the bar and take in my surroundings. The regulars have claimed the high ground, drinks clutter the table and the level of excitement will continue to rise as the night goes on. As always the dance floor is packed, people spilling out as they move to the rhythm.
My eyes scan the crowd as if I’m looking for something, or someone. Then I see her. People moving just enough to let her through, but only just enough, they desire contact. Her path is blocked. His smile and his body language have the over confidence of cheap aftershave. Same shit, different day! He’s not the first, he won’t be the last, but she can handle herself. There’s more to her than meets the eye, at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
A tap on my shoulder gets my attention. I turn to see the wild haired barmaid looking back at me. “This one’s on the house.” She says as she slide a drink across the bar toward me. My face asks the question before my lips have time to move. “You’re not her type.” Her eyes flick from my face to the middle distance beyond my shoulder. “You may need to drown your sorrows?”
She’d slipped past me to join her friends, and her waiting drink. I remain unnoticed. I nod, a mixture of melancholy and resignation “Some things are not meant to be. Time for some air.” Clutching the glass close to my body I move through the sticky people and head out to the beer garden.
They don’t notice me in the half light, and I’m not in the mood to engage in deep conversation. This is my place, a world in-between, I’m comfortable here. The door swings open and there she is, eyes scanning the people in hushed conversation. We lock eyes for a moment and she smiles briefly before turning away. An opportunity missed? Perhaps? The beat drops and she’s gone again. I finish my drink and head back inside just in time to see her disappear into the maelstrom of bodies. Time to leave.
Raised voices, the friction has got too much and it’s in danger of spilling over. I bump into an angry man, he’s drowning, clutching at straws in the hope of staying afloat. He turns his rage on me, but fails to find his mark, I’m already two steps ahead. Definitely time to leave.
Outside the air is cold, a star filled sky above. I lean against the wall, taking a moment or two to consider my options. Alerted by a sudden spike in volume I look towards the doors. I wait until she sees me and step closer.
“Hello.” she whispers.
“May I?” I reply.
