Abandoned, unfinished piece.

The wine’s no good tonight. I’ve drunk more than my fair share, and haven’t felt a tinge of reaction yet. Normally, several glasses and I’ve more than reached my capacity. You know, lampshade on head, topless dancing, sloppily kissing strangers, regardless of sex. But not tonight. I’ve been sitting in this dank, lonesome corner sipping glass after glass, and none too casually, mind you. I’ve watched lovers dance and laugh and canoodle beneath the ever so seductive mood lighting, shabby-chic plastic chandeliers with burned out candelabras. The place in itself is enough to induce alcohol poisoning, just to forget its so-called ambience.

My date never showed. Truth is, I never had one to begin with, but it’s always nice to imagine some sweet young thing giggling and climbing onto my lamp with great difficulty, much too tipsy for her own good, suckling on my neck, admiring my not so admirable qualities. It’s all too charming for me to bear, so I pour another glass and begin my routine all over again. This vicious cycle. What’s it take to get the kind of action I’m seeing in here?

I lean back against the wall, propping my head on a plaster pillow, allowing my eyelids to flutter and seal themselves shut for just a moment. The jazz band plays on, the noise grows, and I feel myself becoming warmer as my intoxicated blood flows through my mulled veins.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice says, causing me to slightly open one eye, “is this seat taken? My feet are so sore, you’ve no idea.”

I look her over. Christ, of all places, she’s chosen to sit here, with me? I smile softly.

“Please, go ahead.”

She returns my smile with her own, far more angelic than I’d ever be able to procure. I can feel my stomach flip as she sits beside me, taking off her much too high red heels to reveal pretty little feet and toes, with matching nails to boot. She sighs and watches the dance floor as I do my best to sober up now that I’ve got such company with me. She turns and looks at me, cocking her head just so. I feel my temperature begin to climb. She parts her soft, full lips to form the classic words,

“Come here often?”

It’s almost too awful to hear from a creature so enticing. I shake my head, politely,

“No, actually, every once in a while usually does it for me.”

“I know what you mean. Pretty sad dive, isn’t it?”

I nod, taking a foolish sip of my wine.

“I suppose. It reeks of love lost and found only to be lost again.”

“Interesting way of describing it. I suppose you’re right,” she says.

She sighs and leans back in the same fashion I have, arching her back to accentuate her perky assets. My eyes drift, but rush straight back to the dancing couples as soon as she catches me gazing. She looks at me strangely, but makes no comment of it. I do, however, notice her blushing. Perhaps it’s just the bad lighting.

“Are you here alone tonight?”

“Yes, the usual story. I figure, it’s better to torture myself with what I don’t have in public than allowing myself to sit at home and go crazy alone over it.”

She laughs, such music to my ears, and touches my arm, electrifying me.

“Well, darling, at least you weren’t stood up,” she sighs, and her face softening, losing its glow, “I was.”

I sit up too quickly for my own good upon hearing her words,

“Who on Earth would stand you up? You’re a knock-out.”

Her cheeks grow rosier at my words.

“Well, thanks. Apparently, he didn’t think so.”

I shake my head and take another sip of my wine.

“Would you care for a drink?” I ask.

“Oh, you really don’t have to,” she says.

“No, I insist. Would you like something?”

“Sure, it has been one of those nights.”

I look her over quickly, feeling the heat grow within me, and then get her what she wants. I’d have gotten her anything if only she’d go home with me. It has been ages since I’ve experienced a woman’s warmth beside me, especially one of her caliber.

We sip our libations, casually, watching the band and the dancers, clapping, and singing. She leans in to me and rests her hand on my shoulder,

“I’m Jewel,” she says

Yes, you are, I think. I extend my hand and shake hers.

“The pleasure is mine,” I say.

She smiles and we say nothing, merely sipping and tapping our feet to the music. A pair of lovers lost, only to be found and lost again.