There is a bar downtown. Well not all the way downtown, on the edge of downtown. It’s called W & W. They describe themselves as a comfort food station. It’s a trendy kind of hipster place that is lit with fancy lightbulbs and has high sitting tables. The brickwork is exposed and they have an open balcony that can be rented for parties. It has an old wooden bar with 24 rotating taps and competent bartenders. It’s just too pricey to hang out at, but it’s quaint. It sits half a block east of the stage entrance to the Theater. You’ll see the actors eat there sometimes. It’s quiet with a old feeling to it even though it’s been open less than 10 years. I really like it.

I have ended up there a few times when I want to get away. To read a book at the bar, or watch a hockey game. They only have 2 TV’s and both are at the bar. In 5 years I seen the same bartender almost every time. The food is delicious. Smoked mac And cheese, a wonderful Cuban, the burger is great, but the fries…The fries are the best. They use duck fat and something else. Better than five guys, and they are hard to beat.

I will take you there. We would sit closer to the back. Near the kitchen window under the balcony. We would sit obnoxiously on the same side of a high top, meant for four but it was a slow night. You on my right, both of us facing the front door. I would wrap my arm around you and sip my Manhattan, while you sipped a fancy drink from the cocktail menu. We would share a order of fries and split a burger. Don’t want to have too much on our stomachs, there are things to do.

You would feel my hand under the table. Resting on your thigh. Your leggings are smooth but cotton, so the warmth of my hand lingers after I move it. The tight little skater dress, isn’t something you normally wear. You only did for me because I said I liked it. You do look amazing in it. It sits a little too high though, hence the leggings.

You knew this was always a choice. A clean, boring life. Small victories. The kids at your mom’s for the night and you in my arms this evening. We have tickets to the Theater, only because they were free. Given to me by someone for some reason. It some stupid show about a stupid man who does stupid things, then realizes they’re stupid. The tickets lie on the table in front of us, almost seeking new owners. Somebody to appreciate them more than us.

We seemed rather entertained already. I wanted to get you dressed up. I know it seems odd, but a woman who preened and manicured to present herself for a date is more beautiful for the effort. The skater dress was nice touch. I saw it online and sent it to you knowing you would think, sure, whatever, I’ll wear it if he wants me to. But the lines looked great, and hugged you perfect. I was in the usual button down and gray slacks. I had a white shirt with a straight black tie. It looked right, either for going out or the theater, dressy but plain.

The last few fries were all that were left in the basket when the time came to head over to the theater. We had been watching the afternoon crowd on the sidewalk. When you leaned over and said,

“What if we didn’t go?”

It’s as if you read my mind. The sun was lighting the street, the weather was great.

“What should we do instead.” I replied, shit eating grin wide across my face.

“I’ll do whatever you want.” Was your response with no hesitation.

I turned in my chair to face you. You kept facing forward. When my lips finally caught your neck, you gasped, just ever so slightly. The young waitress also got a little jealous, peeking at us as she was heading to the kitchen to grab an order. Specifically seeing the reaction you gave. You had worn you hair up. Leaving your slender neck exposed for me. It was always hard for me not to stare.

I lifted my lips from your neck for a moment whispering every so softly “take off your leggings.”

You tilted your head slightly and slid your hands under the table.