Code of Conduct
She sat in an overcrowded bar sipping an exotic drink, her dress pooling around her as an obedient slave. Singles' heaven, she noted ironically, where one was actually a single or pretended to be one. She particularly didn't care.
She exhaled hot smoke which had managed to burn some of her frustration and residual anger. Why was she single again? The arsons of reasons had run out and ammunition to hunt for a new one was rusted. Everything had just stopped. After few times, she had stopped searching for reasons too. With time, all those things don't matter anymore, she thought.
Or maybe she was a hopeless escapist.
The bartender slipped a drink on the table which sashayed along the wetness of the table and landed inside the curl of her palm. It reminded her of an old western movie watched with a dear one after ditching school on a lazy afternoon. The bartender jabbed his thumb in a random direction and she turned her head to see a man raising a glass in acknowledgment. She didn't miss the leer in his smile or smugness in his stance. She shrugged and chugged the drink in one shot.
No, she didn't care anymore. Loneliness was definitely a bitch.
Once her head returned after being jackknifed with strong alcohol, she realized that the man was now seated next to her with an inviting grin. She vaguely remembered him telling her that her dress was beautiful. She knew how that line would end, given a place like this ' "but it would look better on the floor." The man left the line unfinished and she continued to nurse a new drink.
A few years ago, she would have turned a million shades of red if only someone uttered this to her, even as a joke. Now, she would probably throw back a witty retort or ignore or perhaps even acknowledge the fact.
Comedy, like irony, is subjective. Or was it simply innocence lost? She didn't care.
"Red looks good on you", he says.
"It's not red. Its vermillion", she says.
"Aren't they same?" He is curious.
"Not for me", she replies, slaps some money on the counter and walks away.
Escaping loneliness could wait. She had an old western to watch.
As she walked, she wondered if innocence was also something subjective.
I hope it is, she silently prays.
Sookie
PS: I have deadlines for next few hours but here I am, sitting in office and writing this. I could not get this out of my head so decided, what the heck and wrote it. Any mistkaes - grammatical, typos or even contextual, kindly ignore (better yet, comment on it.); will fix those tonight.
And please. Someone make me stop!
Edited by Sookie* - 15 years ago
Hindi TV Shows
Kumkum Bhagya
Cricket
