Wing Woman

On my way back from the restroom, I saw the bartender place a fresh glass of merlot in front of my sister, and gesture to the handsome man at the end of the bar. Just as if that were his signal, the man stood up, buttoned his suit, and approached my sister.

My sister Tasha has never taken to me treating her special, nor have I ever attempted to - mostly because of the backlash I would receive from her. So, I took a glance around, found an empty high-top table just out of ear shot, and took a seat. I had the perfect view from which I could watch my older sister get hit on by a stranger.

Tasha has a radiant beauty, and the intellect to keep conversations going on for hours. I thought of the challenge this man was facing to impress her. Over the years I had the pleasure of watching many men try to woo my sister, yet come to find out, they did not have the character, personality or charm it took. Far be it from me to get in the way of another fella trying, so I continued to watch their exchange.

A few minutes went by, and it appeared this man was getting somewhere! Tasha looked engaged, laughed a couple times, and showed the body language of an interested person. But the clock was ticking on them like a speed-date because my sister and I had a prior engagement to attend to. So, as much as it killed me to, I had to break up their serendipitous meeting.

I walked up from behind and placed my hand on Tasha’s shoulder. “Looks like you've made a friend," I said.

“Where have you been? We’re going to be late,” she responded, then took the last sip of her merlot.

“I took the long way back. Are you going to introduce me?”

“Marcus, this is my sister Nikita. Kita this is Marcus.”

Marcus politely stood up, shook my hand, and offered my seat back.

“Unfortunately, Marcus,” I said, “We have to go. We are meeting some friends for dinner. I’m sorry to cut things short.”

My sister stood up in between both of us, and without hesitation flicked her wrist; out extended her white and red cane, as she reached her hand out to find my shoulder. She tilted her head back towards the bar, “Hey Tommy, thanks for the drinks. Will you be here next week?”

The bartender replied, “For you Tasha, I might come in.”

Then she turned to her new friend Marcus. “My sister is right we do have to go, but now you know where I'll be next week… if you're interested in continuing our conversation.”

“I will see you next week, possibly for our first date” Marcus replied with a dashing smile.

“Let’s not be coy, I think what we just achieved right now was the definition of a first date. And now you have second date action to possibly look forward to. I still won't be able to see you next week,” Tasha joked. “But I would love your company. Thank you for the glass of merlot.”

I smiled as well, gave a quick “goodbye”, and led us out of the bar. As we made our way out of the door, I could not help myself.... “Seriously, second date action?”

Tasha quietly asked, “So what did he look like?”

“His voice goes with his face,” I whispered back.

“You took the long way around.”

“You still won’t be able to see him next week.”

The two of us shared in a nice hearty laugh and made our way to dinner.