Authonomy – Friday Flash Fiction [FFF]
Post: FFF – September 20, 2013
Theme / Genre: Free For All
Include: –
Words: 703
The Battle of Trafalgar
The stripy black and white top with leather jeans
combination would attract anyone’s attention.
Sat at the counter in full view of other imbibers and smokers, one sees not
alone, another girl of similar age impinging her space.
The pair, perched atop of tall bar stools and chatting aloud
over the room’s din, nurse two glasses of white wine. At home in each other’s company, indirect
friends through a close relative, and neither suffering from a lack of
Blarney’s “gift of the gab”.
The future observer arrives, notices the stripes, and orders
a pint. Ensconced, away from the bar, in
an open people-watching corner table, one observes the new arrival, checking
his watch and sipping his pint, all whilst occasionally glancing over to the
two girls.
A shy character, long-haired and goatee adorned, with a
diffident manner, his body language betrays his lack of confidence. Yet, the little boy lost, is attractive to
some, and an appropriately placed barfly-on-the-wall would sense a certain female
interest growing in defence to a companion’s suggestion, and cajolement, for
other entertainment.
Another fidgety check of the watch, interpretively showing a
sign of disappointment, the desired impromptu meeting would not be happening; further
clarified by gulping the last dregs of a pint glass. Nevertheless, to leave when the hint of an
alternative dalliance could exist would be a loss and defeat by insecurity,
better to aim for more Dutch courage and purchase another beer.
Naturally, aware of each other’s presence, no eye contact occurs
at the bar. Returning for a few more
sips, the need to relieve the bladder follows, unsurprisingly, and the long
walk of shame from the solitary sitting position at an empty table for four is
inevitable.
The return walk is no better, perhaps worse as a passing
acquaintance acknowledges and confers with the loner, but neglects to make an invitation
to another table and therefore again left to one’s own devices.
Stranger things are afoot; both girls have taken residence at
the now half-full table for four.
Innocent expressions of mistaken appropriation of the seats lead to
first contact and conversation flows between the three, although it is the slim
striped girl in black leather that takes control; although blessed with
gorgeous emerald green eyes, one would fail to remember what the other girl was
wearing.
From solitude to threesome in the pull of a pint, close
attention is given, glances made and pleasantries forth come, however, all is
snatched away as alternative adventures await the couple and no sooner are
conversations struck-up, they dry-up as three becomes one again.
A visual happiness exudes from behind the facial hair, eyes
glisten with pleasure following the unlikely flirtation. Although, with it, signs of other extemporaneous
conversations are lost too, shyness and anxiety rear their ugly heads once more
and attention moves to another, last pint.
Not local to this den of iniquity, the head full of
starry-eyed dreams would surely return another day, perchance to meet again
with the mystery young women whom had seemed so naturally friendly. Now, however, it was time to dispense of the
visibly singular existence and drink up.
Three-quarters of a pint is the casual drinking time it
takes the entrance door to clatter open once more. It is also a sign for the single-man to make
tracks, and return to the single-bedroom flat above the off-licence. It is also the signal for the slender,
leather-clad legs to return, evidently under duress from the owner of the green
eyes, but content to play along.
Up until now – it would transpire later – the emeralds have
eyes for the goatee. Yet, despite this,
and with honest thoughts not to get involved, the leather bond is beginning to
tighten. The visual differences are obvious,
his unkempt hair versus her short trimmed bob, casual dress versus street-wear
with fashionable attitude. Connections
of chalk and cheese made through talking and listening, confident versus
self-doubt, but it works and it strengthens.
The corner table in The Battle of Trafalgar pub, with
hindsight, is set to become the talk of future dinner parties and tales for
young offspring. It projects an unforgettable
foundation stone, the beginnings of a long enduring relationship.
The rest is history.
