mm: jordie-liz, the pickup artist

[leftistbeanpole]

It's the curls that won't quit, and the big eyes, that draw his attention

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[porcupineliz]

When the note appears, it's a moment before she notices it.

She picks it up, reads it, and blinks.

And glances up and down the bar, to see if she can spot the sender.

[leftistbeanpole]

He's there past the bend in the corner, pad beside him.

When she looks, he waves, small, smile warm.

[porcupineliz]

Well now.

She smiles back, lifts her glass to him in silent toast, and knocks back about half of what's left in it.

[leftistbeanpole]

Jordie grins suddenly and reaches over to power off his pad.

It might be a fun evening after all.

[porcupineliz]

Not bad. Especially that grin.

She leans one elbow on the bar and waits for him to make his way over.

[leftistbeanpole]

He unfolds himself slowly from the barstool, slips his pad inside his battered corduroy blazer, and saunters down, glass in hand. "Please say that's a yes on the drink."

(He is very tall.)

[porcupineliz]

He is tall. And has very nice cheekbones.

"That's a yes on the drink," she says agreeably. "Hi."

[leftistbeanpole]

"Hey." He settles himself on the stool next to her, settles his own glass (filled with something amber) in front of him. "You just made my day. I'm not kidding. All day I was wondering if I'd be able to come here and buy a pretty woman a drink. And then I saw you. And, like, choirs singing, clouds parting, birdsong -- everything." He raises a hand, wiggles his fingers, brings it down to her. "All right here."

[porcupineliz]

She's grinning. "Does this line work with all the pretty girls you buy drinks for?"

You're flattering me shamelessly, says the look she gives him; and you can keep right on doing that.

[leftistbeanpole]

"You assume it's a line." A crooked smile. "I'm wounded. Right to the heart." Beat. "I'll grant you that it does sound at least a little bit like a line. Maybe. If you squint some. What are you drinking, o woodland princess of my wounded heart?"

[porcupineliz]

"Pomegranate martini," she says, "o wandering knight-at-arms."

[leftistbeanpole]

Jordie leans his chin on his hand. "Bar, I wonder if you'd oblige the lady with her kind request...?"

The glass appears; Jordie beams at her. "Look, you're making my day. Thank you. From the bottom of that wounded heart of mine."

[porcupineliz]

"See, you're saying thank you," she complains cheerfully, "and now I don't have anything to say unless I say 'no, thank you.' Which sounds dumb."

She turns the glass, admiring the frosted edge. "The least you can do now is let me buy your next drink."

[leftistbeanpole]

"Reciprocity seems only fair." Cheerfully. "Let me work a little more on mine first. Can I call you princess again, or is that overdoing it?"

[porcupineliz]

"Mmm ... probably overdoing it," she decides. "It'd be fun to see what you'd come up with next, but I could just tell you my name. You know. If that'd be simpler."

[leftistbeanpole]

Jordie dramatically raises hand to his forehead. "Of course, how silly of me." He grins at her. "I'm Jordie. Is shaking hands a thing with you? We can do that."