Pros and Cons


Pros and Cons




"Hey"
She looked up from the margarita she was stirring with a straw. It just didn’t make sense. Drinking a margie through a straw meant you would miss the salt.

“Hey”
She squinted into the mirror; he was sitting solo in the booth behind her.
Shit! She’d planned on calling it a night.‘So,’ she thought, swiveling around on her barstool, ‘Are you a 33 or a 333 word man?’
“Oh, hello there” Smiling. A touch surprised.
“Buy you a drink?”
A 333 word man for sure. Was he slurring? She couldn’t tell. She swirled her glass, watching the ice clink. “Thanks, I’m good”
He was hesitating.
“But thanks, anyway.”
That was it. Enough. He was sliding across the vinyl, standing, crossing the carpeted floor. Green, with blue and black swirls. God, that had to hide a lot of spills. Like the scotch he spilled on his weave over.
“Oops” He shook the scotch off his hand.
“Oops” She handed him a couple of cocktail napkins.
He dabbed at his pants. “Guess I need a refill.” He settled onto the stool beside her.
She smiled shyly. “Silly isn’t it? Why would anyone drink a margarita from a straw?” She delicately licked the icy concoction off the black plastic straw.
“Isn’t it a swizzle stick?”
He was staring at her mouth.
“A swivvle stick?”
“Swizzzz-El. ZeeZee not vv. You know, a stirrer.”
“Oh right. Silly me.” A little laugh.
“Come here often?”
She almost snorted, laughing in disbelief. She couldn’t help herself. “You didn’t!?”
He grinned, shrugged acquiescence. Kind of charming really.
Oh, what the hell, spare him. “Look, can I let you in on a little secret?”
“A secret? Should I promise not to tell?”
“Seriously. Can I tell you something in confidence?”
He straightened, shook the smile from his face. “In confidence? You are serious.”
“I gotta go.”
“But it’s early.”
“I gotta work”
“Now!?” It was 11:30 at night.
She smiled, stood up. “Now. Promise not to tell?”



One look at this blog tells you I haven't tackled fiction (or anything on this blog) for a long, long time. But I heard about the Trifecta Writing Challenge and I figured wtf. My mother was plagued by Alzheimer's and I'm terrified I have it already. A little writing, good, bad or really, really stinky couldn't hurt the grey matter any.
This had to be a minimum of 33 words and no longer than 333. I guess you know which it is. It also had to use "confidence" in this specific way.
By the way, I blog about books and movies based on books, over at chapter1-take1 just in case you want to visit!

Popular posts from this blog

Bridget Jones Diary. On location in London. #BriFri

Image
I just found British Isles Friday post which I shared over on Chapter1-Take1.com  directly from London when my hubby and I visited in May. I'm not sure what happened, whether I lost my connection or just forgot to share it with my fellow Anglophiles following Joy Weese Moll's British Isles Friday meme. I'm making up for that now, adding some additional photos from Borough Market where Bridget Jones flat was actually above the Globe Tavern. No matter how we felt about the sequels, we all fell in love with Bridget in Helen Fielding’s Bridget Jones Diary . Most of us saw a bit of ourselves in her, whether it was the overeating, over-imbibing misfit or the plucky lost girl who refused to give up, her honesty about her own flaws and foibles helped us laugh at ourselves. Rene Zellweger with her brave British accent channeled Bridget’s flirty spirit. Hidden under the arches of London Bridge at the Globe Tavern in Borough Market is the flat where Bridget lived. I...
Continue Reading »

Baker Street Station—Sherlock Holmes was there

Image
Baker Street Station The main thing my husband wanted to see in London was London ... as Sherlock Holmes saw it. So our first move, like any fan of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's creation was to take a double decker bus to Baker Street. As it turns out I read the map upside down or sideways or maybe it was backwards but we found ourselves in Putney at the bridge. Very much in the wrong direction. Over half an hour by car, which we didn't have. We wound up taking the tube back in the right direction which delivered us to the Baker Street Station. The station is one of the original stations opened when the Metropolitan Railway—the world's first underground railway—was built in 1863.  While we don't immediately think of Sherlock dashing out on the tube, he very well could have and in fact the rail, train etc is alluded to in several dozen Sherlock stories. The Baker Street station is situated on the very block where Sherlock lived at 221B Baker Street. Or should I say th...
Continue Reading »

In the cups [Also on iTunes and SoundCloud]

This week's Saturday on SoundCloud piece. Originally posted December 2015. Here ’s more of that true romance from the seventies I last wrote about in E Ticket to Ride . Do I really remember the color of Lena’s couch? No but I remember Derek. In the Cups Derek was already there when I walked into Lena ’ s place. Viviana was sitting in the corner of a love seat, Derek straddling a kitchen chair, facing her. He was making her laugh about something, her lips curved over flashing white teeth and I wished I could walk right back out the door.  I could see he’d come straight from work. H is idiotic wig was off but he was still wearing his white work shirt. Leaning forward, tails untucked, his pale blond hair and shirt were  bright in the otherwise darkened room, caught by the light coming from the kitchen. The same light that lit up Viviana’s mouth. Lena, grinning from the kitchen door, beckoned me over.  Thanking me for coming, hugging me to her warm, soft body, she g...
Continue Reading »