Cherry coated lips.

I turned around in the bar stool to the tapping on my shoulder.


"Oh. Hi!"

She stood behind me in a short black skirt, matching tights, with a fitted white blouse; upper half unbuttoned revealing a black tank top underneath. Not my thing normally to do, I looked her up and over, stopped when my eyes reached her knowing smile. My focus jumped from smile to acknowledging look from the corner of her eye. She looked great holding the high ground and quite tall with her heeled boots.

Quickly focusing back on the jukebox she was facing. “Help me pick out a song on the jukebox."

I leaned over alongside her watching her fingers drift across the keypad, listening to the mostly hand written selections flop over.

“Ooh how about some Black Flag?”

“Black Flag is always good.” Looking up I received another dropling of a smile from her sugary coated lips, a sweet cheery flavor imagined under the gloss.

“Which song do you want?”

I was in trouble. “Oh. I don’t know.”

If one quizzed me as it played, I might have guessed Black Flag correctly; A song title though, was asking the impossible. If this was a test, I just failed it.

I calmly explained away a bad memory coupled with the accurate description of being the least punk rock person in the bar as joke at my own expense. I was sliding off the bar’s upholstered edge, dangling with one hand.

Must. Pull. Myself. Up.

She picked a song and moved on. "I got it. You just have to pick the next one."

I start to swing my body weight, hoping the momentum will serve my last ditch attempt for survival. I threw my free arm out towards the crumbling edge and landed on NOFX.

Yes! Who doesn’t love the song “Bob” - A fun, silly, bouncy punk song?

"Very nice,” she smiled, ”Thanks.”

Her hand patted my shoulder, slipping away with her body to the back of the bar.


  1. Harlequinn Romance asked for your number, I gave it to them. You can be a millionaire.

  2. Anonymous7:45 PM

    I don't think it was a test...she might not know any black flag either.


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