Night Sky and Fireflies

“Hello and welcome to the Golden Ambrosial”, says the greeter with an inviting tone. “Party name and number?”

“Um, I’m sorry, I’m new to all this”, I say with complete bewilderment of his question.

“That’s ok, name of the reservation holder and number of people attending this evening?”

“Oh, it’s a party of two, but I’m not sure which name the reservation is under. Try Amare”.

“What a wonderful name. Latin derivative for love. Is this a special occasion?”

“First date. Blind date actually. My roommate Chase set it up”.

“Well, I see your reservation, and since we have plenty of open tables, I’ll take you to your table”.

“Hello, my name is Karla, and I will be your server for tonight. Is there anything I can get you started with?”, a waitress asks.

“Water is fine for now”, I reply quietly not knowing exactly if I should order something for Jenny or if I should wait until she arrives.

“Okay I’ll be back in a moment”, she replies with a chipper mood.

Karla approaches a few moments later with the water. “Here’s your water. Is there anything else I can get you in the meantime? A menu perhaps?”

“I’m good for the time being thanks”.

“Are you sure? You look uncomfortable, kinda tense”, she states making me wonder just how obvious my level of discomfort is.

“I’m just a bit out of my element here. I’m here on a blind date so I’m not sure what to expect, and high-class places like this aren’t typically my thing”.

“Ah that makes sense. If you want to sit at the bar feel free. I’m sure our bartender will make something to take the edge off”.

A drink would definitely take the edge off, but it could also make it worse. “I might do that in a bit. I’m gonna wait here a bit longer for now though. Thank you”.

After about a half an hour of waiting I decide to sit at the bar. The bartender walks up with a casual “What’ll you have?”.

“Two shots of vanilla whiskey with cherry cola”, I respond happy to get away from the table and somewhere I don’t have to look the rest of the room.

“That kinda night huh?”, he says with a slight chuckle.

“When isn’t it?”, I respond with a slight smile.

Karla walks over and sits next to me. Not sure why, but she has a certain glow about her. I know she has to present herself in a manner that’s friendly to customers, but for her it seems like she’s always like that.

“I see you decided to sit over here. Everything ok?”, she asks with a smile with a hint of concern.

“Better now that I’m away from the crowd”.

She looks behind us and laughs. “Doesn’t really look like much of a crowd to me”.

“You’re right, it’s not much of a crowd and its definitely not mine”.

“And what is your crowd if you don’t mind me asking?”.

“Anywhere with simplicity and freedom”.

As the bartender walks over, she asks him what I’m drinking. He responds as he places the drink in front of me. As I lift my glass to take a drink, she snatches it out of my hand.

“H-hey!”, I blurt out.

“We can’t have you drinking something like that when you’re on a date. Kevin, if you don’t mind bring us my bottle of Merlot”, she demands with a high-spirited smile.

“One bottle of Prisoner Thorn coming right up”, the bartender says with cheerful enthusiasm as he walks over to the wine shelf.

“Prisoner Thorn?”, I state questioningly.

“What, not a big wine guy?”, she asks with a bigger smile than previously shown. “You know people are a lot like wine”.

“Yeah? How you figure?”.

“With wine you have multiple ingredients. Characteristics if you will. Without these characteristics the flavor would be lacking. However, even with all the right characteristics you can ruin the flavor by taking it off the shelf too soon. It needs to mature”.

“I see your point. You’re quite profound, aren’t you?”, I ask intrigued with where the conversation will go.

Kevin walks up with the bottle and two wine glasses. He uncorks the bottle and hands me the cork as he starts pouring our glasses.

“Smell it”, Karla says with a playful demand. I do, expecting the typical smell of olive or vinegar from the wines I’ve tried. Instead, I’m met with a fruity aroma with a slight dirty smell.

Karla looks at me. “Well?”, she says eagerly waiting for a response.

“What? It smells good. Better than most wines I’ve smelled I guess”.

“And?”

“What!? Do you want me to lick the cork now to taste it before I drink it!?

Karla bursts with laughter. “No, you simpleton! Tell me what you smell”, she gets out after she regains her composure.

I smell the cork again. “I’m getting a fruity aroma with slight earthy smell. I’m guessing it has an assortment of fruits because nothing in particular is standing out. The earthy smell could be a number of spices typically used in wine, or mead. Which is a wheat and or honey wine, but typically stronger on the alcohol content”, I respond trying to be as detailed as possible as my knowledge allows.

“You’re no amateur, but far from a professional when it comes to wine”, she replies seemingly intrigued.

“Wine isn’t my forte. I prefer flavoring whiskey or rum and cola with vanilla and cherry. If done right, you can get a four-flavor combo that’s not overbearing in any of the flavors. Plus, cherry and vanilla are naturally a pleasant combo”, I explain. “Can I have a drink now?”.

She nods as she picks up her glass to toast. We touch glasses and take a drink. She did more of a sip where I did more of a swig. Something tells me I’ve been drinking too much liquor cause it wasn’t as smooth as I was anticipating. The expression on my face showed it. Karla giggles a bit and says “You’re not doing a shot, you have to sip it. The goal is to taste and enjoy, not get blacked out drunk”.

“Yeah, I realize that. A little too late though I’m afraid”, I manage to cough out. “I’m guessing it’s not supposed to be that dry”.

“No, it shouldn’t be dry at all. Ok let’s take a breather and try that again, but this time just taste it”.

I take a couple of breaths and sip it. “It tastes how it smells”.

“Wow so no particular flavors from that?”

“No not really? What should I be tasting?”

“That “earthy” taste is cedar, cocoa, and anise. The fruity taste is the addition of blackberry, cherry, and vanilla. Which I would’ve expected you to notice the vanilla and cherry”.

“It tastes good, but maybe it needs to age a bit”, I state hoping to redeem myself.

“This bottle is only a couple years old. 2017 to be exact”, Kevin chimes in to my defense.

“Okay so it hasn’t aged long. Still, something tells me that you use vanilla and cherry in more than just your choice of alcohol”, Karla accuses accurately.

“That’s an accurate assumption. How’d you come to that conclusion?”.

“Men have a tendency to find something they enjoy and stick with it until the day they die”.

I think about it for a moment and realize she’s right. Almost everything I own is in one style, smell, taste, or color.

“I suppose that makes me bland?”, I respond just to see how she reacts.

“You specifically, no. But many men get stuck in a cycle of daily routine that doesn’t lead to any excitement. Only contentment. Which can be very dull”.

“I see your point. For me I just try to keep things simple. Or as the old saying goes, “if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it”. So, my basic needs are rather bland, but not uncharacteristic”, I say to validate my lifestyle.

“So Mr.-, I just realized I never caught your name”.

“It’s Jake Creole”.

She presents her hand for a formal handshake. “Karla Jameson, pleasure to meet you”.

I take her hand in mine and lock my eyes onto hers. “The pleasure is mine”.

“Ok, so clearly this restaurant isn’t the place for an ideal date. Where would you prefer to have a first date?”

“Perfect date setting? A backroad or a campsite under the stars on a moonless night”.

“That sounds bland and uneventful, but relaxing”.

“As opposed to all the excitement here?”

“Oh God no, this place is classy, but there’s barely a pulse”.

I look at my watch. My date is over an hour late, but I’m thinking that that might be a good thing. “What time do you get off?”, I ask Karla casually.

“As long as its ok with the crew here, I’m free now”.

“You want me to show you what a perfect date would be to me?”

“What about your date?”.

“If it was important, I would think she’d be here”.

“Let me check with the crew and I’ll get back to you on that”.

She walks over to a few waiters and waitresses for a moment, and then walks through a door for employees only. She comes back a few moments later changed into a pair of jeans, white t shirt, and a purple and black flannel long sleeve.

“Shall we?”, she asks with a smile as she grabs the bottle of wine from the bar.

I take her arm in mine as a gesture of formality. “Right this way milady”.

I walk her to my car, and she gasps with surprise. “Nice ride. Where’d you get something like this?”.

“My dad and I built it. It was supposed to be a gift for my mom. It was her favorite year. 73 El Camino. Sadly, she passed away shortly after my dad started working on it. He gave it to me when we finished. I keep it in excellent condition for her”.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure she was a great woman”.

“She was, and its ok. I prefer to celebrate life rather than morn death”, I say as I open the passenger door for her.

As I sit in the driver seat, she turns to me and asks, “Is that what I think it is?”.

“What?”.

“Vanilla and cherry”.

“Yes it is”, I say with a chuckle.

After about twenty minutes of driving and small talk, I pull onto a back road not far from where I grew up. The view is on top of a hill vastly looking over the landscape. We get out and I drop the tailgate for us to sit on while watch the stars.

“Wow! Its beautiful out here. You can see all the stars in the sky and the countryside for miles”.

“Told you”, I say a bit cocky.

“I can see the appeal”, she says as she takes a sip of wine from the bottle.

“So, Jake…”, she pauses for a moment. “What makes you, you? What characteristics are you hiding from the world?”.

“You mean the typical likes, dislikes, and hobbies?”

“Yes, but the why behind those too”.

“Hmm…”, I think on the question. “I’m not a picky eater, I grew up poor and if food was available, I ate. However, I prefer a typical home-cooked meal over any other theme. I prefer the country over the city. It’s quiet, the people are nicer, and mother nature is the greatest artist to ever exist, as you can see. Plus, I grew up on a farm. It feels like home to me. I grew up with my dad, but he didn’t raise me on his own. His friends helped in more ways than I’ll ever truly know”.

“It takes a village”, she says casually.

“Yeah. What about you? I can’t be the only one hiding secrets from the world”.

“I grew up crowded. My parents own the Golden Ambrosial. That’s why I could leave so easily”.

“So you were a rich city kid?”, I say harshly unintentionally.

“You could say that. But its not like everyday was sunshine and rainbows. If it were, my parents would criticize the sun for its amount of shine and the imperfections of a rainbow’s colors”.

“Sounds rough”.

“They have a view that the world that everything has to be high class. Zero imperfections”.

“Sounds like they need a trip out here too”.

I tap her shoulder and point to the wheat fields. Fireflies glow and dim in a beautifully imperfect rhythm to the gentle breeze. She gasps with her eyes light up and springs up from the tailgate.

“Wow! That’s so beautiful! Does this happen all the time!?”.

I nod as I take the bottle from her and take a sip. “This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”.

“Right? That’s why it’s the perfect place for a first date”.

She spins around slowly to get a view of everything. As she does, a shooting star skates across the sky.

“Oh my god did you see that!?, she yells ecstatically. “There’s another one!”.

“Make a wish”.

She runs up to me, grabs my arm with one hand, the back of my neck with the other, then pulls me in for a deep, lasting kiss.