Cole & Amy 3


    Cole backed his butt onto the bar stool that had been nudging him. Things were starting to look up. “So, you’ve never heard of a Mojito huh?” the often-rehearsed Mojito line cascaded unconsciously out of Cole’s mouth. “I don’t remember seeing you before Amy, are you a friend of the bride or the groom?” Cole knew she couldn’t be a friend of the groom. He knew all of Mike’s past girlfriends, many intimately. Cole figured he would make a better impression if he appeared ‘open’ rather than assuming. He tried to keep track of what worked and what didn’t.

    “Typical guy,” Amy affirmed in her thoughts, “no manners means I don’t get treated like a lady.” Amy decided to shift the bar chair so she could sit facing Cole. If she moved the stool to the left a little bit more, she might also have easy access to the big mirror behind the bar. By the flatness of Cole’s voice, Amy figured the Mojito line had nothing to do with sex. She felt relieved.

    The words “bride or groom” found their way into Amy’s ears. “Oh, the bride,” she beamed. “we were best friends in high school. I haven’t seen her since then.” “Manners aren’t the most important thing,” she mused to herself as she made an effort to like Cole. Amy had a lifelong pattern of seeing men as their most positive potential instead of how they really were - and she had an equally long history of hurt and disappointment. Amy did not know how to change this pattern. Perhaps Cole was different.

    “What's the first thing you notice when you chew on a swizzle stick,” offered Cole. “Here Amy, try one.” Cole spat his scrunchy emerald green swizzle stick at the ground and put a fresh cherry red replacement in his mouth. He wanted to show Amy what he expected her to do. 

    “That there's no drink around it,” laughed Amy. 

    “Huh?” puzzled Cole. 


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