The girls stood chatting at the bar waiting their turn. It was the first opportunity I had to look at her friend, slightly younger, slightly shorter, blonde, late 30s with a slim figure and a tattoo on her back just below her right shoulder blade, something small, possibly a cartoon cat, I couldn’t quite recognise it from this distance.
I was pretending that I wasn’t watching them but noticed every move from the corner of my eye. They had chatted while they waited on their drinks and there was a discussion going and the odd glance back to where I stood with my friend Stuart.
A few minutes later the girls were served and moved away from the bar, Scary Cat Woman looked at her friend, an almost imperceptible nod between them and they walked over and stood just in front of us and turned to face the band.
Not a word was said, but I’d caught her eye on the way over, I knew she was coming over here deliberately, invitingly, it would be stupid to ignore such an pen invitation.
The band were now playing Rocks by Primal Scream, a favourite of my mate and mine as we have tickets to see them later in the year at Glasgow Green. The girls must like that song too as they were mouthing the words “Get your rocks off, get your rocks off, honey”
This close, I could see that the cat tattooed on her friends back was Tigger that wonderful bouncy thing from Winnie The Pooh, but a really stupid tattoo if you ask me. So you want a permanent visible marking and that’s the best you can come up with? It says it all really!
As the song finished and the band were chatting and moving towards their next selection, there was a gap in the girls conversation, so I tried my opening gambit.
“So you couldn’t stay away then?” Hoping that she wouldn’t tell me to get lost.
“Well this is the only place left to stand, either here or at the bar and I don’t like being bumped into” She turned from her friend as she spoke, her green eyes held mine. I could feel her challenging me, daring me to say something more. She is obviously very self-confident and aware of how attractive she is. Fuck I wanted her.
My mind was racing, what to say next? Something about not enjoying being bumped into? Or that I’d enjoy it if she bumped into me? Or would that be stupid and cheesy? I think it would and decided to stay safe.
“Are you going to see Primal Scream in June? My friend Stuart and I are going?” I glanced over to my friend, bringing him into the conversation, looking for support. I’ve found that it helps if it’s a 4 way conversation rather than leaving your friend or her friend standing like gooseberries.
Once upon a time, many moons ago, we had stood in a bar in Glasgow city centre, discussing some personal development course called Mind-Store by Jack Black. My mate being more of the typical male was quick to ridicule any concepts of self improvement. But I was a newly separated at the time and open to suggestion and new ideas.
As we stood there, chatting about the course, the 2 girls next to us overheard our conversation and one of them Maureen had indicated that she was considering going to the same course. There then ensued a conversation between Maureen and I for the next 30 minutes about the different books on personal development that we’d read. Meanwhile Stuart and her friend had a brief conversation which ended within minutes, largely because Maureen’s friend wasn’t his type.
What happened next was a learning experience itself. Maureen and I stood chatting, but we both realised that our friends were ignoring each other and looking bored. So we changed back to chat with our friends and shortly later she left saying good-bye and before I got her number.
Yes I did kick myself at the time. But fortunately, by some accident of fate, a few weeks later shopping in some mall in the outskirts of the city I bumped into her as she left the store which I was entering. We stood in the doorway, chatting for the next hour, neither of us had gone to the Mind-Store course but this time I did get her number.
As I said, that was many moons ago, our first date was on the day of 911, not to be forgotten.
But tonight, as the band stop for their break, the 4-way conversation is flowing. The girls aren’t going to see Primal Scream but they would love to. Tough luck as the tickets sold out months ago and they won’t be getting ours.
Not that I actually offered that opinion!
Stuart is in full flight chatting to her friend Mandy and they’ve both disappeared outside for a cigarette. Angela, without prompting, is telling me that she lives alone in the flat that she purchased last year after she split up from her partner and that she has no kids.
Of course, I’m not slow to let her know that I live on my own, why wouldn’t I?
“But I don’t live alone” she says “I live with my babies and she shows me a picture of her 2 moggies on her iphone”
Oh no, I think but smile and ask her whats she calls them?
The next 15 minutes is spent listening to her cat stories, how she got them from the rescue centre, how the ginger one was neglected and so thin, how they used to fight with each other and how they get on really well nowadays.
I listened intently, well okay, I listened pseudo-intently! I was already bored. What happened to taking about music and bands? I still fancied her though, so I tried really hard to nod in the right places and ask pertininent questions, I wanted to at least show an interest but was seriously hoping for an opportunity to change the subject.
Fortunately the band were back on the stage and Stuart and Angela came back in from their cigarette break, giggling like old friends and telling us that they had went to the same school.
I thought bugger this and asked everyone what they wanted to drink and went to the bar.
As I stood there, feeling that the night wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped, Angela appeared behind me, asking me to make hers a double. I could feel her breast pushing against my arm and I will admit to pushing back a little just to feel how firm or soft it was.
She obviously noticed as she pushed her self closer to me and was rubbing her breast along my arm as we stood there, eyes forward and not saying a word.
But then it happened, I looked at her, she looked at me and we kissed, full on mouths open and our tongues searching.
Yes I thought. I’m up for this and I don’t really give a fuck about her cats.
…. To be continued!
For Part 1 of This Story – https://dancingbhoy.wordpress.com/2013/05/20/scary-cat-woman/