The Meetup

The Meetup 

She stood up from the table and gave Audrey a brief hug to say goodbye. It had been nice chatting with her old school mate at the funky wine bar and pretend she was still part of the in crowd. Audrey, now in her 50s, was wearing her pleated white tennis skirt and tight top as she fussed her way between tables heading for the door. More than a few blokes in the room had a glance at those long legs with glossy spray tan.

But it was a relief that she could sit and sip the second glass of white wine to finish the bottle. It had been a surprise that Audrey laughed off a comment about her parade of back to back marriages with more and more aged bachelors, each one more wealthy than the last.

“Don’t worry about my wedding sweetie, you can come to the next one!”

And they both laughed wickedly at the predictable ignorance of men.

Sitting alone, she felt conscious of the ballooning dress that hung from her shoulders, as it tried to hide the unwanted bumps and bulges. To say she felt frumpy was an understatement and other things dragged her down. The constant grandma duty meant she would have to wiggle out of the chair soon and find her car to make it in time for the youngest one’s netball pickup. Still the demand on her time overrode her disappointment in the dry vagina department that seemed to exacerbate her husbands wonky willy.  Neither of them spoke about it and there was always something more trivial to discuss to distract them. She closed her eyes, just 5 minutes and I will go she told herself.

 

“The Margarita and Old Fashioned”

A male voice spoke to her.

Peering upward she saw a man who could be a waiter, placing the cocktail glass on a fresh coaster in front of her.

“Oh I did not order that…”

She started to say but he quietly interrupted

“Oui Madam, but of course we did”

He placed the tumbler of old fashioned opposite her and stood smiling.

 

His cream slacks were ironed to a knife edge crease that extended all the way down to the generous folded cuff at his ankle. A pair of two tone leather shoes peeked up at her, the toes were gleaming black and the sides cut in with milky white leather curves.  His waist coat was buttoned and featured a coarse dark weave with gold thread inlay and 3 gold buttons. The waist band was trimmed near the centre and she could see the bare skin of a six pack underneath. He moved to pull the heavy chair back so he could sit and as he did the biceps, where his shirt sleeves should be, bulged and rippled. The purple cravat was tied loosely at his neck.

“A real ladies man for sure” she thought. Then realised,

that bitch Audrey has set me up with one of her toy boys, I reckon this one can’t even play tennis.

 

He sipped the bourbon while she watched the golf ball sized ice cube swirling in corn and rye.

“I bet they drowned my cocktail in sugar or salt”, glancing at the cocktail glass holding the Margarita. But the rim was not covered in crystal instead the twist of orange peel, used to coat it, lay innocently over one edge. It looked inviting and made just the way she liked.

An irritating vibration came for her handbag and she reached in to answer her phone.

“Hi mum” her daughter’s busy voice blurted

“Don’t worry about the kids pickup, I am back early so I will get them. See you tomorrow. Bye”

Well that was a relief and she returned her attention to the Manhattan.

It was gone.

There was a warm wine glass with a dribble in the bottom. A fly had been swimming in it for sometime, and was now doing laps in the sweet liquid.

The toy boy had evaporated and the bar was almost empty.

It had all been a dream, a day dream, but a good one.

She adjusted the underwire of her bra, collected her bag and stood up before finding her way out out the back door.

The car park was nearly empty and it was getting dark. She smiled as she recalled her little fancy and then opened the drivers door. She threw her bag across onto the passengers seat, smiled again and hitched up her dress. Her Bridgette Jones bloomers slid off her hips and she kicked them off under the car. Flopping onto the vinyl seat she imagined it was leather, pushed the start button for the engine and called home hands free.

Her husband answered and her instructions were concise.

Use two blue pills tonight honey, I will be home soon. Oh, when you put the thong on, the skinny bit goes to the back.