Friday evenings are THE night to go out, THE night OkCupid asks you to describe for potential matches, THE night I went out this week. I am just not sure I picked THE spot for the occasion.
Spill the Wine is a place I have wanted to go for a long time, but never had someone who seemed appropriate to take there. So it was perfect for me to go there on my own just because I wanted to be there. Last night was rainy and in the spirit of adventure I decided to take the light rail and then walk with my umbrella if necessary to Spill the Wine. It probably cost me more than parking at a meter, but I wanted to be with people on the train.
I stood out on the light rail among teenagers in pajama bottoms and Somali women even though I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I had a scarf around my neck, mascara on my eyelashes, and a huge book in my hands as I stood on the train in my high heels. I felt no need to make any contact with my fellow riders, so I just read and balanced as the train moved downtown.
Walking to Spill the Wine was pleasant, but I knew my feet were not going to thank me when I got home. The shoes I was wearing were not meant to stride so purposefully in for any amount of distance...and they pinched! At least they were free, a gift from an organizing client.
My first thought when I walked into Spill the Wine, was "this bar is for women, and I should have expected that!" There were many more women then men in this bar (hint for any wine-loving men); women in twos and threes and fours, or couples obviously brought there by the woman. But, my second thought redeemed the first: "all the waiters and bartenders are extremely handsome men!" It is an ingenious hiring strategy to appeal to one's consumers. I think this is the best barometer of a place's style. I cannot help wonder if sports bars are both attempting to attract men AND repel women. I digress...
I ordered my Malbec and some Calamari, because I was missing the Tapas bars in Spain and wanted to pretend I was there again. I read for while and listened to the women and watched the waiters, quite happy. At some point one of the waiters talked to me about my book, still the Fountainhead, and asked me if I really liked being individualistic (said with fist upraised). I found it an amusing question.
The highlight of my night, besides the good wine, was the bartender. We chatted when things were not busy as I was sitting at the bar. I learned a lot about him, and was surprised to hear him ask me if he was boring me! He wasn't and I enjoyed his expressions when I looked at him. I was in one of my "powerful woman" moments and I think he could tell. One of my guy friends told me that I look at everyone in a sort of flirtatious manner, and I think what he is picking up on is that I am not afraid to undress you with my eyes unabashedly...but without it being about sex. I will look at you and truly see you and not what you may be pretending to be. We meet as equals, humans without pretenses and in its rarity, this is perceived as flirtatious. I no longer mind if it is perceived as such.
My new friend the bartender had the tables turned on him; I became the one he confessed his story to, the one allowing his individual expression to be presented to another being. He gave me a free drink (because I was curious about what a certain liquor was used for) and asked me sincerely to come back again. It was not said in a polite way as I would say to any of the customers in my store...he meant this. I rejoice in this small victory of my night: I was able to connect truly and honestly with another person and life seemed utterly full of joy because of this.
No comments:
Post a Comment