I was recovering from a bad bout of root canal dental care and was just to the point where I could handle temperature changes again. Of course, it was a moral imperative to celebrate with a bowl of edamame and another of sautéed mushrooms in white wine and garlic, and perhaps a beer or three.

It was Saturday and there was an NFL preseason game on the TV’s as well as golf and baseball, whoopee! (note the sarcasm there). I took a booth and set up my laptop to do some writing on several stories I had in mind as well as do some work on The Strawberry Patch Book 3.

The side of the booth I chose faced the bar top and the front door. College housing was across the street and attractive college girls were always a joy to watch as they came and went. The Shedd also draws folks my age because the atmosphere is cool, and the food is very good. When most of these people were younger, they would have been called yuppies, now, I’m not sure what they are called.

I looked up from a long passage that I had entered and reentered and then corrected to see a couple walk in the door. They took the first two seats at the bar with the guy having his back to me and the woman facing him and by default, me.

She had short, dark blonde, hair and a very pleasant face. Her profile was lovely and matched her haircut to a T. I was typing away, occasionally looking up so my eyeballs would not go rectangular from staring at the laptop screen. On one of those occasions, I looked up to see her glance at me. I made eye contact, smiled, and nodded before looking away.

She and the guy she was with were sitting next to a couple of my fellow football fans and the first “important” college game of the season was on, Miami vs Florida. The game interested me because Clemson is my favorite team and they are in the ACC with Miami. Miami used to be a national powerhouse and rumor was that they were back.

One of the TV’s showing the game was in front of the lady and her guy. I stood to go to the bathroom and afterwards instead of going to the booth, I walked down the length of the bar to talk to my friend. Read that as ‘get a look at more than her face’. The quick reconnoiter showed me a few things.

First, she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. That is the first thing I look for after a woman gets my attention. If there is a ring, I break off all interest. I’m not going to be THAT guy, like the one that broke up my first marriage. So, she had no wedding ring.

Second, she was a mature woman. She was not thin and not fat but had some substance to her. I guess ‘meat on her bones’ would be appropriate. It was my guess that when she stood, she possessed a very womanly figure that went in at the waist, and had a slight, come squeeze me pooch.

Third, she dressed well. She was out on a casual date, I would guess, but was wearing slacks and a blouse that were both casual and classy.

Fourth, she had sizable tits. Her blouse covered them completely, but it was obvious that they were bigger than a handful.

Fifth, she had on nice shoes. I’m not sure what that means, but in my experience a woman with nice shoes has a certain something about her in general.

Sixth, the guy she was with wasn’t carrying his end of the date very well. How did I know? Because she kept looking at me when he was talking to her and he never noticed that she would look away while he was making a point.

After carrying on my conversation with my friend, which allowed me to let her hear my slightly deeper than baritone voice and see that I was a bit thick in the middle and was not vulgar with my friends (this time), I returned to the booth, giving her a look at me from behind.

I could never understand women wanting a guy with no ass. It seems sometimes that women want the railroad spike, but want it driven in with a tack hammer. A guy with a good sized butt, should be able to drive all night long.

I went back to typing and working on several stories at the same time and I noticed that they were getting up to leave. Being the guy that I am I watched as she stood and verified what I’d thought about her body shape and the size of her breasts. When she looked right at me and made firm eye contact, I raised my hand to my forehead and made a motion like I was giving her a tip of the hat.

She smiled and nodded before returning her attention to the guy as he opened the door for her and let her out. Good old vicarious living. I was wishing that I had that woman and the guy had a feather, then we would both be tickled.

I finished the work on my third story. Finished the edit/rewrite of four chapters of The Strawberry Patch Book 3 and finished off a very nice grilled salmon and my fourth beer. The bartender turned off the audio from the horrible football game that I stopped paying attention to and turned on the music. Well, he turned on the bass line. I’m sure that somewhere under the thud-thud-thud there was something else, I think.

Whenever that happens, I bail, because the rumble of the bass gives me a headache. So, I began finishing the unsweetened iced tea I had switched to before settling my $50 tab and standing to go to the bathroom again. Damn rented beer!

When I was done, I flushed, washed my hands, dried and walked back to my booth to find the woman standing there. I stopped and looked her over. I was really right about her body, it translated well from sitting to standing. She was smiling as I began walking again.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello, I thought that I had missed you when I returned, and you weren’t here. Then I saw your computer and briefcase, so I thought I would wait for you. You weren’t out smoking where you?” She asked a very important question.

“No. I don’t smoke ... anything. Never have, never will,” I answered, seeing her shoulders relax.

“I guess you noticed that I noticed you earlier,” she asked another probing question.

“Of course, I noticed you. My father told me many years ago that it was rude not to admire an attractive woman.”

“And you think I’m attractive?” She was fishing and I don’t like that, so I chose to put a stop to it. She was better than that.

“I think that you are attractive enough that you don’t need to fish for complements. I would think that any guy worth his man card would wear you out with compliments during the course of an evening without you having to seek them out.”

“I would love to see if that’s true,” she smiled an electric smile.

“OK. Since you came back, I assume that you either left your phone, or you were returning to speak to me.”

“I don’t take my phone out of my purse on dates.”

“In that case would you like to join me in a place that is a bit more conducive to having a conversation?”

“Perhaps.”

“I was thinking of meeting at another place, a bar, downtown.”

“Which one?”

“The Whiskey Bar.” I suggested.

“I know it. I’ll meet you there,” she said.

“Give me a few minutes to pack up and I can follow you, or you can follow me,” I told her, hoping to follow her and check out her lovely butt.

“I’ll follow you.” She smiled the smile that said that she wanted to check out my lovely butt.

With a bit of haste, and under her watchful eye, I began to pack up my laptop, saving all my work to two separate thumb drives. I packed the power supply and the folder with my notes and turned to catch her looking at my butt. I felt like a piece of meat.