Tipsy Treasure

The sky was a shade of peach. The sun was setting, blending into the moonlight's domain. I felt it cast down on me like the twilight shone for me only. My tears flashed like diamonds on my sleeve. I almost broke down again but the sound of piano keys slid across my pinna. It put me in a better mood, like I could get through the rest of the day. Escape the sadness that the previous hour brought to my doorstep. I wanted to leave the past behind me, glide into the club and shine. So I brushed off my blouse, slid my heels off of my feet, and my neck perked up off of my shoulders. I was ready to build a new connection. My chest led me through the red drapes and I walked past security alone. So, the bar called out to me.

I politely asked for a margarita with a sugar rim. I grab a glass from the other side of the counter and breath on it, wiping it with the side of my palm. I stared so hard that I could make out a bit of my reflection. I wiped my face just as hard, making sure the tears were left on my sleeve. The bartender hands me the drink and we exchange smiles. My tip made his lips mouth “thank you”, which I returned with a wink. I rise up and take a seat closer to the musicians. The saxophonist gives me a welcoming smile, announcing that his group will be playing jazz. My thighs shuffled in the seat so I could listen more closely. He positioned his fingers on the keys and let his air produce a sound that made my soul lift like a feather. It made my arms fly free. The other instruments chimed in and out spawned the composition of the blues. Their energy made the room look like a tinted amber. The warm lights swayed on the ceiling as well as the cloth on the other twisting bodies around me. I savored the last sip and downed a shot, the liquid whirlpooling down my throat but my lips didn't leave the glass. I could feel the pulse of my breath when the trumpet climbed high. My tooth gripping a bit of my lip, my eyebrows pushing my skin to the middle of my face. The notes transported me into unblocked thoughts, guided beyond the vision of tapping feet. I was in a fruit garden in the distance. Wiggling my limbs with the green grass. It's like the sprouts told me to let go for the evening. I snapped unconsciously, matching the thump of the drums until I started following the wisp of mint that fell into my nostrils. My head turned towards a familiar bright smile that once gleamed behind the bar.

The bartender started the conversation off smooth. He was engaging and made sure to look deep into my eyes while he spoke to me. He made me grin with his adventurous talk, numerous facial expressions and hand motions. I listened intently while he talked about his passion for travelling. His stories were intense and he had the emotion behind it to convince me that he was really there. I liked that he wanted to experience life physically not behind a device unlike most people. I found that alluring. I could tell that he wanted to move forward as my date for the night rather than split from this encounter. I was a bit more reserved but I loved an adrenaline rush. This talk made me comfortable like there was more to come. Like I could set myself free around him. Did I talk about his amazing smile? I couldn't stop admiring the smile lines reaching into his eyes. Oh, and his hair was like silk, his man bun sitting in the shape of a plum. I wanted to dig my fingers into it. He was a hunk and those bad boy leather boots did something to me. He caught me staring a lot with a lustful face, more like the face you make when you're having a daydream. I got a bit embarrassed but he just smirked at my awkward faces. It just made my expressions worse. I asked him why he chose to be a bartender if he could be anywhere in the world right now. He said it humbled him, the music captured him and it helped when thinking about the next adventure. He got too lost in the notes to ever leave. The same as I.

My eyes started drifting to his hand gliding out of his long jacket. The tip of the bottle told me that it was a wine. The label and grape color told me it was a classic. He started to pour the Merlot into my glass. Our glasses clinked and we drank up. A glass of Merlot a day, made me as mellow as may. It was definitely a go-to selection. The smoky cedar notes made me hum in pleasure. His chat was also pleasant. It was ripe and elegant like the wine. When I swirled it in my glass I had to inhale its dry nature. I let it soak on my tongue inviting me into its earthy undertones. He had good taste. It made me hold on tighter to his words. I didn't want to miss an “ok” but I did want to feel the beat more. I eventually led him to dance with the swing of my hips. Our bodies moved like a calm sensual wave once we matched each other's pace. I took a liking to the wafting scent of his pheromones and mint cologne. I naturally buried my head into his collar bone.

When everything shut down I still had a warm feeling in my chest. The bartender brought out the reddening of my cheeks and the dimple dents that ran deep. I decided to let him take me for a ride since he had less to drink than me. He got me with charm too of course. I walked here anyway so he didn't mind dropping me off. But we took a little detour. To the spontaneous part, right. You know the boys with the leather always have an interesting ride. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to sit on the back of his motorcycle. My mother had a Harley, she was the type of rebel I wanted to be. I'd be damned to let this rare occurrence pass by. I needed more of what he had, the type of glow she had. I knew he bathed in chance and always wanted to do something he hadn't done. Every minute our bodies were aligned - I wanted to kiss his strong jawline. The alcohol let my feelings burn. I made an exit for the bees fumbling around in my head and let the Merlot carry me through the night. We moved through the air like a curveball. I felt the night twinkled at me, hinting that it was still mine.

After a couple of hours riding down a dark highway, we ended up on a long black road. It led to a couple of structures. I could see a bright light rhythmically moving left and right. It was tall, the tallest lighthouse in the pacific coast. The second Point Arena Lighthouse, the first was destroyed by an earthquake. I could hear the sound of waves crashing in the distance since the roaming patches of light didn't give me a hint. The waters looked as endless as the black path we came down. I immediately hopped off the bike and ran until I felt my bare feet squish against the weeds. The chilly breeze made my nose cold. It felt incredible. The melody of the waves splashing against the rocks had me entranced. He gently grabbed my hand and asked if I'd rather see this scene from a different view. I felt my fingers tingle and when I nodded he swept me off my feet and led me to the lighthouses ground floor door. It made the wine slosh around in my stomach along with the butterflies.

I'll just say that we snuck in. I took my time up the twirling staircase. We took more sips of Merlot so I stopped to admire the plaques and the rust on the rails. I wanted to take a peek through the small windows leading up to the top but the bartender didn't want me to spoil the beauty that was in store for me at the end of the climb. His words always made my heart thump faster. It gave me the energy to start running to the lantern room and once we reached it, I started to spread my arms out like a flapping airplane. I probably flew around like a clumsy dragon because he was in tears, clutching his belly. I was on an incline to a new level of fondness with him, he was a goofball just like me. The atmosphere started to calm us since we were closer to the crater filled moon. I wanted to see what the sky sees, I felt like it could see me. See us, with our hands clasped together, feeling like we are in the center of the moon. We connected with a hug and by the end of the night, he called me his little black bird.