One early evening with time to kill
and money to burn at the rec center
always open, forever welcoming with
warm pizza, cold beer and pool tables
there for us as well I met two friends
with nothing to do so I suggested a trip
downtown, my treat, and they agreed.
Late eighties meant dance pop or disco
but I preferred classic rock so it was off
to Toucan’s for us three. Walking through
the front door a wall of sound, dimmed
lights and crowd already moving to the beat
greeted us as we slid right in, found
our place and ordered a round on me.
Once seated it seemed dark shapes writhed
to familiar tunes but at the bar bathed
in light no one else could see she sat
on a stool, regal and serene. Spellbound,
I swallowed my fear and made my way
near finally offering to buy her a drink
oblivious to a full glass of wine in hand.
She smiled sweetly then invited me
to return in five minutes time when
she’d accept my awkward opening line.
Back at the booth I clocked each tick until
my triumphant return, stealing a glimpse
or two and drinking in the anticipation
of how this night might unfold unplanned.
