A girl sitting alone in a bar with a glass of red wine, reading a love/sex memoir is totally asking for it… for a pick-up, that is.
I first encountered him at the reception counter where he chuckled while asking, “Where are you going?” “Halifax,” I replied drily. Henceforth I was known as Halifax-Girl. He is off to a Caribbean cruise with a hundred other colleagues.
Later on, I meandered to the travellers’ lounge because alcohol was not amongst my travelling possessions and this gregarious man sat down next to me… and – what do you know – in Layover Land (Toronto, for me), I met another Easterner who transplanted to Vancouver. It just goes to show you to persist because it can be fun along the way to the destination and I revel in having a sweet story to tell you!
Wherever my friend Andrew goes, he finds the local bar and rapidly becomes acquainted with the establishment, the staff, and fellow regular patrons. My local watering holes are too trendy to be cozy so the travellers’ lounge and hitting it up alone were both firsts.
The barkeep tried to ID me but I evaded having to go fetch it and he kept a wary eye on me that I didn’t cause trouble. We stayed late, after closing. Even when the television was turned off and the lights are out, the dim lounge is pregnant with something – like ghosts of the evening’s laughter.
When conversation flows – where get-to-know-you questions don’t fall flat and feel probing – faith in the cold-meeting process is restored. Postive non-verbal cues like shifting his chair to better face you, fingertips brushing every so often, and him finding an excuse to touch and play with your hair is just the cherry on top!