Pleasant Plumeria #1

“Well hurry up! It’s not much of a barcrawl if you spend the whole damn time in the bathroom!” I laughed and slapped his ass as he squeezed past me. Feigning indignity, he flashed me a dimpled scowl that was nearly convincing until his grin broke through. He began to wend his way through the packed bar, and my gaze followed him until he was swallowed by a sea of anonymous people.

Still chuckling to myself, I turned to see if there was any way to break through the crowd that surrounded the bar. It was a typical Saturday night downtown, so I was hardly surprised to see the groups of scantily clad girls and overly muscled frat boys deeply involved in their ritual mating dance. Body shots, Jager bombs, and hysterical drunken flirting blocked all but one stool. Seeing my opportunity, I slid past a pair of orange-hued blondes and hopped up onto the seat.

“Jack and Coke, please!” My order fell on deaf ears as the bartenders scurried around, catering to the more lubricated patrons.

“Good luck with that.” It was strange that I hadn’t noticed her before. Amidst the swarm of fashion and vanity, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Her lank, dirty hair hung in curtains around her face, all but obscuring her from my view.

“I’m sorry, what?” I replied, unsure as to whether she had actually spoken.

“I said good luck with that. I’ve been here all day and it’s still like I’m invisible.” She gestured to her half-full glass and said, “No good bartender lets a drink get half-empty without recommending a refresher.” Dragging a semblance of a smile across her face, she rotated her shoulders to face me.

I’ve seen all kinds of eyes before. I’ve seen my-dog-died eyes and I-got-dumped eyes. I’ve seen crazy Alzheimer’s eyes and vacant drug addled ones. I’ve even seen I’m-about-to-punch-you-in-the-face eyes, but this was the first time in my 24 years that I ever looked into completely lifeless eyes. Eyes without humanity or pity, eyes without emotion or expression, her pale blue irises simply sat vacant, used up, without any kind of depth. The color reminded me of the sky after it rains—clouds that are too spent to continue their deluge, but too heavy to dissipate.

“Well holy shit. I never thought I’d see you again.” Her remark jarred me from my reverie and I shook my head, confused as to her meaning. I’d never seen this girl before.

“Oh, did we go to school together?” I stuttered, realizing the lameness of my question the moment it came out. I had attended a small rural college three states away.

“Yeah, you could say that,” she replied, her half-smile creeping back across her mouth. “You really don’t remember me, do you? Has it been that long?”

Not sure how to continue this exchange, I began scanning the crowd to see if he had made it back from the bathroom yet. She must have sensed my discomfort because her tone was sharp and almost offended the next time she spoke.

“He’ll be a while. The lines are hell and the really drunk guys will push in front so they don’t piss themselves. He’s probably standing there all mad but not saying anything. He was always like that.”

This time she had my full attention. “Wait, you know him? I’m sorry, what’s your name again?” I could count on one hand the number of people from school who had met him and this listless girl was not one of them.

“No, no, forget it. I had a fiancé once too, I just know the type.”

I instinctively clutched at my left ring finger, my stomach dropping when I remembered that the beautiful diamond I regularly wore was at the jewelers being polished. All that was left to distinguish me as one half of an engaged pair was a thin white tan line near my knuckle, all but invisible in the smoky bar.

“Okay, really, what’s your name?” I demanded. My sense of unease was growing and I began to feel claustrophobic in the heat of the small space. “I feel terrible for blanking out on you, but you’re really starting to freak me out!”

“I’m freaking you out?!” Her response was sudden and visceral, and the surge of emotion seemed to come from nowhere. She reached out and grabbed my forearm, her fingers a clammy vice grip that I was too startled to pull away from. “I’m freaking YOU out? I never thought I’d see you again, OR him. I thought I had screwed things up for good, but then here you are!”

She let go of my arm and I snatched it back, rubbing gingerly at the white impressions left behind. “Look, you have me confused with someone else, and I’m sorry about that, but I’m gonna take off. My fiancé will be back any minute, and--”

“You don’t get it.” Her voice dropped low and I found myself glued to the spot, unable to move even as my nerves were screaming in protest. “How can you still be here, still have him, still be sitting in front of me if you never figured it out? You never figured out the one truth that cost me absolutely everything!”

“What truth?” I cried. “What are you talking about? How do I even know you?”

“Oh please, it’s right in front of you! I’m right here staring you in the face!” She began to yell now, fury emanating from somewhere within her that hadn’t existed moments ago. “You had a choice, and it looked like you made the right one, but then here you are, fucking it up!”

Near tears, I stared at her, this husk of a woman now set aflame. I stared at her freckles, faded but somehow familiar. I stared at her filthy clothes, worn and frayed, but not unrecognizable. I stared at her hands, ragged and untended, but still bearing a faint white line on the third finger of her left hand.

“Do you get it yet? Can you see? How could you order a drink? After somehow managing to salvage everything I ruined, how could you do something so stupid?”

At this the tears did come. They ran in rivulets from my own rain cloud eyes and I shook my head, finally understanding her meaning. The urge to flee completely left my body and I sank back down to the barstool.

“It wasn’t for me. I don’t drink anymore, I’ve been sober for over a year. I’m just chaperoning a barcrawl, making sure everyone gets home in one piece. I’m sober.”

Two such small words seemed to mean everything to her. Her anger vanished and she nodded slowly to herself. “So you figured it out then? I’m not the end of the story after all?”

“You’re not,” I said, wiping my eyes. “And I do remember you. I guess after all this time it’s still hard to see you clearly.”

A faint smile graced her lips as she swiveled back to face her drink. “Okay then. We’re done here.”

“But wait, can I--” As I stumbled over my now clumsy words, I felt a hand grip my shoulder. Startled, I gasped and spun around to face him, finally returned from his expedition to relieve himself.

“Who are you talking to, babe?” His warm smile and sweetly crinkled eyes soothed me as he wound his arm around my waist.

“No one,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at the two empty barstools. “Let’s go.”