Inspiration

There was a kind of dead silence prevailing in this watering hole. The only sounds were the music "Gotta have you" by the Weepies playing softly in the background, with murmurs of voices, and a hint of clinking glasses.

My glass of whiskey remains half full; but it's mostly water melted from the ice. The paper in front of me remains scribble-free. Nothing, still nothing. I still couldn't come up with something. God, this is frustrating.

The truth is I wasn't able to focus when this girl came in. She dressed well, and you could tell she's been working out. Toned arms, upright body posture and firmed neck area. If that isn't attractive, I don't know what is. With her brunette hair, there was an ease with which she blend into the evening glow, which seems to makes everyone else look like mere shadows. Needless to say, she stands out even more.

But like any men in the presence of a beautiful woman, I grew shy, for a moment I thought I was tongue-tied. Hell, there was no way I'd be talking to her, no matter how much I wanted to. It was way way safer to stay put at this table, and try to finish my work and whiskey... On second thought, maybe not the whiskey, there's nothing there to drink anyway. This is so not cool, man.

"Ok, get a grip of yourself. The chance of you screwing this up is just as likely that something great will happen, give it a shot, man!"

It was for a good 15 minutes that I wrestled with my guts. What's the worst thing that could happen, really? Well, for one, we would have nothing to talk about, and there would be awkward silence, and that wouldn't be nice, would it? Or we might hit it off, and besides, she seemed harmless, she won't just ask you to leave just like that. But then again, maybe I'll look like some mad man, and all she want for her dear life is to leave the place pronto! Shit, leaving it to my conscience is not doing me any good. Well, at least not mine, I need to call him.

So, I dialed my best friend's number, and like any guy who spotted a woman that he wants to get acquainted with, I said, "Dude, there's a hot chick, right across from where I'm sitting!"

"Go, and talk to her, man," he replied.

"I want to, but what if there's nothing we can talk about?"

"Just do it, pussy!"

So that was the end of our unsurprisingly brief interchanges. Fuck it, here goes nothing.

I rose from my seat, took my glass of whiskey with me, and courageously I strode across to her table.

"Hi there..."

"Hi..."

"You're new in town?"

She chuckled, "No, I worked here for two years. And this is where I come to drink, to have a good time." She smiled, and that doesn't help to slow the heartbeat.

"Erm... So what do you do?"

"Would you like to sit?"

"Erm... sorry?"

"This seat is empty..."

"Oh this seat is not taken... I thought you were waiting for ..."

Now I'm not sure if it was because I forgot how to lift my right foot properly as I moved into the seat or I was too taken aback by her sudden offer to sit with her. But what happened next was something that I'm not proud of, and no way I would let my friends know.

So what happened? I fell. And how about the half-full whiskey glass? I lost grip of it, and it fell onto the table right in front of her, spilling the content to, oh you'd know where.

For a dreadful second, I thought of leaving, but instead I offered to help, which wasn't really a better idea.

"Let me help you wipe it off." See? Shit...

She chuckled, "Are you serious?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm thinking." It's confirmed, I'm screwing this up.

"It's okay. But no amount of wiping is going to make it dry. Looks like I have to sit here until it dries out."

"I suppose I should leave huh..."

"No, please, you're not going to leave a grown woman with a wet skirt by herself, are you?"

"I guess not."

With a smile, she nodded towards the table where I sat, "I see that you were writing something."

"Oh that? I'm writing for a scene for a local production. And I'm here because I'm stuck and in need of inspiration."

"Well, what's the story about?"

"The scene that I'm writing? I have trouble connecting dots, actually. It's supposed to start with a guy having a drink by himself in a bar, which explains my choice of venue. And by fate, he's supposed to meet someone..." Suddenly, it struck me how weirdly coincidental this has been.

"So, who's that someone? Is she special?"

"Yeah, she's someone special... very special."

"I think you've got your story." She spread her arms in a gesture as if to say, "this is it."

This is fucking weird... "So what you do you do again?"

And so we talked, we talked and we talked. We had a good deal of laugh, turns out that she was living not that far away from where I stayed. She runs bookstore just a few blocks away. The conversation lasted for a good deal of time, a long time because we were forced to leave so that the bar can close.

"I had a good time," she said.

"Me too."

"Here's my number, if anything do call me."

"I will."

With a wave and a smile, she got into her taxi, and headed for her apartment. I stood there, as the car sped away, thinking to myself, "Well, who knows.... who knows..."

I'm not sure if it hadn't been for me spilling the drink, she would have sat with me for that long. But all I know is that, for tonight, something amazing has just happened.