Attraction- Connor's Take

The Challenge: Write a character to whom you would be attracted.

 

Knight Kitchen

[pleased to be bad to you]

 

By Connor Hammond

 

 

Some people have a striking presence; some people bring a certain magnetizing with them into a room, and some people just walk in and hit you in the face.

 

I cannot at this time ascertain which of these has just happened. Okay, there is certain evidence that seems decisive. The fact that she is still standing by the door, while I am waiting for a drink at the bar seems like strong evidence but, as they say, “the detective is out”… do they say that? It isn’t important. What is important is Sabrina.

 

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, Inhale—now sigh it out: Sabrina.

 

Okay I’ll back it up because the place is also important. It’s a bar, but you know… more than that. It’s an establishment that provides hand crafted food and drink in a neighborhood full of the non-committal artistic type. It dishes out brilliance but doesn’t bother to dress it up. Like a master chef making a midnight meal, it will taste like heaven on earth but no one is orienting the protein. You know? The interior is full of repurposed industrial tables, exposed brick walls, and local art. The lighting is dim but the lighting instruments are plentiful. Light seems to come from a thousand places but never really get where it’s going. Maybe the light gets caught in all the hipster beards filling the place. Yeah, now you’re seeing it. This place, it is the Knight Kitchen. 

 

I’ve been working. We’ve been working. Ninety percent of the cliental has just gotten off work somewhere but more specifically Leo and I have just finished closing down the American fusion place up the street. We’re tired, but driven. We want to stay out just to say that some part of this day was ours.

 

As I push past the faces I know, and the ones I don’t “know” but recognize as a part of the collective scene that inhabits and distinguishes my neighborhood, an afterhours mood begins to settle on me. I want something, lots of somethings. Maybe drinks, maybe dancing, maybe drinks- sex-drugs-drinks-dancing-drinks—I need a drink which means pressing yourself as close as you can to the backs of the people at the bar and wait for it to turn over. As we wait we engage in light bitching about work. It is like a warm up for the total mudslinging that will start a few drinks in.

 

An “all black everything” type guy shoulders between us with his drink and Leo slips into his vacant spot at the bar.

 

“What do you want?” Leo asks. In way of answer I gesture at one of the taps that I don’t recognize, he nods, and she walks. da fuck. in.

 

I added more oomph to it this time. Trust me the moment can support it.

 

Up until this moment Sabrina was this mid twenty-something Israeli-American girl I worked with who was always good for a quip or biting comment. The best thing about her was this wicked laugh of hers that was at once conspiratorial and kind of hot. Now everything about her was hot and good for biting.

 

At work I see Sabrina through the confines of uniform and work: hair always in a ponytail, the ill-fitting button up shirts don’t do anything for anyone’s physique, jeans, and an apron. Here, now, she was undiluted Sabrina and it was as if Natalie Portman and Bar Refaeli had a baby then let Robert Downey Jr and Angelina Jolie raise it. I needed more detail, I needed to be closer. My left hand suddenly felt cold—Now that’s a strange side affect. I might be going into shock. Or maybe I’m dying from exposure; doesn’t that start with a loss of sensation in the extremities?

 

“Why are you muttering to yourself?” Someone shouted in my ear.

 

I close my mouth and reluctantly peel my gaze off of Sabrina. My eyes dejectedly scan the rest of the room for the speaker. They find Leo starting away from me towards the tables outside, probably him (Hey, the detective is back in, eh? No? whatever). I start to follow and almost spill the beer I find in my left hand. With my mind being prone to go off on journeys, my body has had to learn to do many things without direct supervision.

 

Leo has now paused to mime at Sabrina: he gestures at her with his beer, takes a sip, makes an inclusive circling gesture, and then jerks his head towards the door. Having concluded this communication Leo continues past her out the door. I move closer taking in this new Sabrina. Her wavy, dark brown hair was loosely done up so a few curls fell over her pale blue eyes as she nodded towards my beer, “let me get a drink and I’ll be right out” she said. She was wearing a short little black dress with a high collar and a deep open back. Her slightly poufy skirt brushed against me as she turned sideways to squeeze past. Sweeping diagonally up her slender back were a half-dozen small cranes-in-flight done in Japanese watercolor.

 

“I wanna smell your hair” With all the passionate desires I was currently experiencing I didn’t even scold my tongue for letting this slip.

 

Sabrina turned back laughing then continued to the bar as I let the press of bodies sweeps me outside.

 

“I can honestly say I have never seen that person before.” I say as I post up at a high top and set my beer down next to Leo’s

 

“Who?” Leo asks

 

Inhale, exhale, inhale and sigh it out: “Sabrina”

 

Leo takes a pull of beer and cuts his eyes towards me “I think you’re hyperventilating, can you just cool your shit?”

 

Inhale, exhale, inha—“I want to touch her”

 

“Whoa! None of that now” Leo sets his beer down and puts his hand on my shoulder, “You’ve got to play this nonchalant like. Otherwise you are just another douche”

 

I nod as Leo removes his hand but continues to dispense wisdom, “It’s like nipples” Leo states as if that clears everything up. He returns to his beer.

 

I follow his example in case the beer will grant me comprehension. “I—I need more—I play it nonchalant like nipples?”

 

“Yeah” Leo nods and continues to drink his beer

 

I dig around for some meaning “I—what, need to stimulate them—stimulate her?”

 

“What? No, don’t stimulate her at a bar” Leo looks at me askew. I formulate my thoughts; take a deep breath and say, “What did you mean when you said, ‘play it nonchalant like nipples’?”

 

“Oh” Leo sets his beer down and turn his full attention to me, “You know how lots of girls these days have stopped wearing bras with their little dresses and thin tops, as if pokey nips are a part of the outfit?”

 

“They’re doing that deliberately?” I ask

 

“Sure they are and it’s awesome but it’s also a test.” Leo moved a little closer and dropped his voice. I picked it up for him and reminded him that it is hard to hear out here. Leo spoke louder, “They want to see if they can eliminate you. If you don’t look? Pssh!” Leo made a dismissive gesture, “They want you to look, but if you look to long? You’re a pig. If try and look at them without her knowing? You’re a perve.” Leo let this sink in for a second and finished his beer before continuing, “What you have to do is look at them and then look her in the eyes. No reaction! Nonchalant, like you’ve seen a million just like her.” Leo held one finger up, “unless they are the best you’ve seen. And then? Then you wait until you are making eye-contact, and if you get just the right vibe you just give a little smile.” Leo stepped back.

 

“Wow”

 

“I know, it’s a very subtle business” Leo set down his empty glass, “I’m gonna get another” He said and started back inside”

 

“Wait, why do I have to play in like that?” I asked but he was already through the door. Emerging from the door was a pair of red Louboutin’s followed by well toned calves and slender thighs. On one of the calves was a gazelle and on one of the thighs were two coy. Around the coy were delicately rendered lily pads and richly colored swirls of water. One of the coy was partially concealed by the poufy skirt of a high collared little black dress. I wanted to join that coy and swim up that lovely leg.

 

My heart hammering in my chest as Sabrina approached. Then she was standing right in front of me, looking up through dark lashes, a dangerous little smile curling her lips. She was waiting for something. I noticed something I had missed the in dimness of the bar. I looked at them, looked her in the eyes—lightning passed between us. Slowly a small, somewhat mischievous, smile came to my lips.

 

Then she threw her drink in my face and left.