Pushing the terrible memory of that date to the side, I make my way to the bar and order a beer, taking a seat on one of the open barstools. Not wanting to crowd anyone, I sit toward the far end and look around for a bit, but I feel creepy when I make eye contact with too many people, and finally, I pull out my phone. It probably makes me look unapproachable, but hey, I’m trying.
I’m almost done with my first beer when a woman slides onto the barstool next to me and orders a lemon drop martini. My gaze rises slowly, trying not to be obvious.
The woman’s objectively pretty. Maybe mid-to-late thirties. Light blonde hair, artfully curled around her shoulders. Her profile is attractive, her makeup isn’t overdone, and she isn’t trying too hard. I like that.
But something keeps me from making the first move.
She gives me a sidelong glance before fully turning her attention toward me.
“Flying solo tonight?” she asks with a sweet smile.
Here’s my chance. Don’t fuck this up,I tell myself. There’s no spark or thrum of desire yet, but I made a pact and I’m a man of my word. So, I jump into the conversation because it’s a golden opportunity.
I smile and aim for flirty and to the point. “I fly solo every night.”
“Same,” she says, undeterred by my awkwardness…andfuckam I awkward. “Unless my girlfriends drag me out. The dating scene is so overwhelming.”
“I know what you mean,” I agree.
She reaches her hand out for me to shake. “Lauren,” she says, introducing herself.
“Knox,” I reply, wishing I had more to offer.
“What brings you out tonight, Knox?” The bartender places Lauren’s martini on the bar top. She reaches for it and takes a sip, waiting on my answer.
Opting for honesty, I tell her, “Just thought I could use a change, I guess.”
“And is it working for you?”
This is the part where I should say something cheeky, like Maverick inTop Gun. ‘I’ll tell you tomorrow, but it’s looking good so far.’However, the lack of desire to see this through is concerning, and I find myself deferring to a shrug.
“To be honest, I’m not really sure what I came here looking for.”
“I get that.” Lauren holds up her drink. “To figuring out what the hell we’re doing here.”
I clink my beer against her martini glass and feel myself slipping back into my normal, brooding demeanor.
I’ve watched my group of friends all get hearts in their eyes and have an intense physical desire to be near their significant others. And while I’m not in this bar looking forthatnecessarily, a flicker of desire would really help let me know I’m not broken beyond repair.
But despite Lauren’s attractiveness, and seeming like a genuinely kind human being, there’s nothing on my end.
No spark.
No desire.
No thrill of the potential release I might find. And, most concerning of all, no motivation to push this thing forward in an effort to satisfy my touch-starved body.
I’m about to ask her what she does for a living and begin the daunting task of mindless small talk when a young girl climbs the stairs to the stage.
I can’t really see from my spot at the bar, but I groan inwardly as a pop song begins to play.
I need to adjust my mindset before I render this whole outing useless. There’s a beautiful woman to my right, a decent beer in front of me, and kids onstage having a good time, singing their hearts out.
Come on, Knox. Live a little. Get into it.
I angle my body toward Lauren and lean in so she can hear me over the music. “Are you from this area?”
Kill me now.
