ExposedNYC

I walked into the bar on the minute the invite had specified. The cute guy with the casually relaxed stance was one of the least intimidating bouncers I had ever seen, but also struck me as one of the most unconventionally attractive men I had seen in a long time.

I rummaged through gloves, iPod, and useless clutter engulfing my purse to find my wallet and handed over my out-of-state ID that still gives me a glimmer of comfort during bouts of homesickness. I made a mental note to let go of the past and change it so I could register to vote in this state.

I handed it over and watched his intense eyes scan its entirety, feeling almost as exposed as if I were being looked up and down myself. “Trying to find the date?” I offered up with a flirtatious grin, attempting to break the silence. He glanced up and returned my smile before handing it back.

I walked through the bar, scavenger hunting for a familiar face in the sparse early crowd. Just as I had admitted defeat and cursed my decision not to be fashionably late, I turned around to see Non-threatening Bouncer approaching.

“Looking for someone?”

“Yeah, I’m meeting a birthday party here to-“

“Oh, you mean Beefsteak?” he interrupted before I could finish my sentence.

“uh…Buddy?” I replied, unfamiliar with this harassment-ammunition of a nickname.

“Yeah, he’s not here yet. He’s a friend of mine.”

I hesitated momentarily and he turned back towards the door. I took a step forward but paused, open-jawed wishing I had blurted out “How do you two know each other?” before he could escape back to his outpost of responsibility.

Unwilling to leech on to an employee to avoid sitting alone, I took a seat at the bar and ordered a cocktail. Buddy arrived shortly and we drank, toasted and chatted easily into the night. I grilled him for background information, but came up without much more than they had gone to college together, and he couldn’t confirm single status due to an on-again, off-again relationship in the past.

About an hour in, Non-threatening Bouncer swung by to pay birthday respects to Buddy and then turned to me with an absolutely unexpected question.

“How long ago did you move from Hometown?”

Shocked, I paused for a moment before replying, “A little over three years. Why? Do you know the area?”

“Sure, my parents live in Next Town Over.”

I cursed the crowd walking through the door at that moment pulling him away from conversation, but bubbled with excitement inside that his perusal of my license had been both intentional and previous to the knowledge that we had a mutual friend. I also said a rare silent prayer to our government for not including a phone number plastered under the mercifully semi-flattering photo. As impressed as I was, he’d have to work just a little harder for that one.

Share This