Disinterested
She had an air of quiet intelligence. She sat on her bar stool in the tightest red dress I’d ever seen, her amber eyes on her drink and a cigarette between her fingers. Each puff of smoke was the same as the next, each sip of her vodka exacting. She was good, real good, and I’d just drunk enough to tell her.
Her message was conveyed with a care I attributed to careful consideration. Of all the words in all the world, she chose two just for me. I appreciated that; she didn’t have to go the effort.
I left with my tail between my legs and her eyes burning a hole in my back.
What did she say, I hear you shout? What wonderful knowledge did those words impart? Let’s say, she was disinterested, and we won’t be chatting again.
Sounds like a blessing in disguise. Run!
Definitely. 😉
I think he was drunk on her red dress, not her intelligence — as it doesn’t sound she was very smart.
I wouldn’t know what with me being an angel. 😇
I am you know!
I’ve always known it.
😉
I never wear red dresses. So it is not about me :))
I checked before I added the colour. 😉
Smart thinking ☺️
I like that you left the two words to our imagination – we might think the worst but it could be better than that.
There’s always a chance 😉
Two words huh… the obvious f*** off springs to mind but I’d like to have a little more fun;
“I’m gay”
“I’m FBI”
“Got gonorrhoea?”
“Woof woof”
“Four hundred.”
Oh I could go on all day!
That last one was seven 😉
😋
A bit too rich for your wallet, huh ?!
Anyone’s too rich for my wallet; it’s empty. 😬
Well, I never said those two words. I was always colorfully unapproachable in my bar days.
That’s the best way to be. 🙂
I guess it worked for me.
Reblogged this on SUSANNE LEIST.
Thanks, Susanne. 🙂