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|Swing Night (standard:romance, 1535 words)|
|Author: Rene Amador||Added: Jun 17 2002||Views/Reads: 2034/1330||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|I'm guess I'm just a hopeless romantic when it comes down to it. It's one of those evenings when everything falls into place.|
The bar was hopping that night at the Green Mill. Sean sipped his red wine as the band played on. Sitting at the bar on a Thursday night was his favorite pastime. This way he had a clear view of every woman that walked into the joint. Mitch sat at the door and collected the five-dollar cover from everyone. He of course let the ladies in for free when they were unescorted. Mitch was every man s best friend in the place. Sean judged women like he judged wine. A tall brunette with legs a mile long each passed by him and immediately he compared her to a cabernet; full body with a mild yet satisfying taste. The red-head donning a full length dress with a slit running up the side to her waist was a merlot; strong and in your face and always surprising, packing a punch that lasted on your lips the whole night. The blonde sitting at the end of the bar that looked like she escaped the set of a black-and-white forties movie was a shiraz; exotic and inviting, offering everything at once. It was a little overpowering if you didn t know what you were getting into.<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> He liked all of the flavors that were served but for now he chose to remain with the drink in his hand. It didn t expect anything from him and he didn t expect anything in return except for a slight kick that could always be repeated as necessary. The band played on and the music felt so right. Everyone was having a good time and enjoying the band s effort. Usually the jukebox provided the atmosphere but nothing can set the mood for the evening like a live band can. Alan Greslick s Orchestra only had eight players but sounded like sixteen. Two trumpets, two saxophones, a piano man, a drummer, a bass player and the leader made up the group. Thursday nights were their usual gigs and they packed them in. The dance floor, or what little existed, filled quickly with couples that practiced religiously all week long for this one night to show off what they had learned. Finding a dance partner was no problem. Every one either sat at the tables and booths lining the floor or stood in what space was left, watching. One would just have to ask for a lady s hand. Sean stood up to ask for a dance when he caught a skirt in the corner of his eye at the end of the bar. She sat on the stool drinking a martini, the crooner s usual choice of beverage. Stirring her olives in her glass playfully she beckoned strangers to her presence. Sean couldn t help but to feel the pull in her direction. He could feel the force tugging at his shirt collar. The call was so strong he was forced to change directions. Sean sat down on the stool beside her. Sean considered himself the ladies man but there was something about her that he couldn t put his finger on. As much as he knew, Sean had never seen her before and he was a regular. He was able to strike up conversations like it was nobody s business but for a few minutes he couldn t think of anything to say. Finally, he figured that saying anything at all was better than not saying a thing. How do you like the band thus far? Thus ? An educated man? I like that. That s the first time I ve been complemented on my choice of words. I m Sean. I m Dana. Please to meet you. Likewise, I m sure. Can I offer you a drink? Sure. Hmm, a gentleman and a scholar. I wonder what else you are, she mused as her eyes focused on him. We could have a conversation and find out more about each other. Well, conversation is a lost art form and I for one am up for reviving it from its slumber. The next hour, Sean and Dana talked at great lengths at the bar while sipping their drinks. The band playing provided the perfect background for conversations and bringing up a variety of topics. It also gave Click here to read the rest of this story (89 more lines)
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