NY Courage in a Can

After a couple of indulgent hours, I eventually lined up around the buffet of personality served at the dining table ready to feast. A half dozen game players, the objective; to transform each other into sloppier and funnier versions of themselves. I circled an introduction.

His name was Jon. Mine, Bernadette, plus a tiny spiel about the chore of  my name, followed by an invite of affectionate abbreviation of his choosing. My other offering was a drinking game called instruments. Easy enough for a 7 year-old to learn, yet complex enough to confuse the motor skills of intoxicated adults.

I parted from the session of laughs and playful insults and into the bathroom. Claire and Ash lured me to partake in some talkative talc. I swiveled my head around the room to execute a seemingly effortless smile in his direction should he be looking in mine. He was. That not so subtle smile I beamed at him since playing the first round of “you’re fucked, now drink!” got him to cross the room, and into my corner. We passed through sloshy stranger pleasantries with ease, and I happily accepted his offer of ice-cold, blue mountain courage in a can.

His electric blue eyes transfixed me, and I fell immediately in like with his incessant giggling. Some laughs I really really don’t like, but I ate his up. The blue mountains turned silver as I rambled recent atrocious and suspenseful travel stories. I felt my mouth moving 100 miles a minute and curling at the sides with every sip of the now room temp beer. Ashley came and said it was time to go, to which I replied,“OK, when everyone’s ready.” By that I meant, “OK, when I’m ready.” I didn’t want to leave. Jon was so damn sexy through his specs, and I couldn’t get enough of that giggle.

More amusing minutes melted, and I noticed the room empty little by little, like the coke bags with every bathroom break. Ashley said it really was time to go now, and I realized it in fact, was. I grabbed our things from the party pile, hoping Jon would just ask for my number or kiss me already. He did both. A juicy, mouth-watering kiss in our corner, more curling smiles, then a quick jaunt down the stairs into the shimmering New York night…

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