Saloon song

*********

That night had been, by all means, one of the worst nights out I had ever experienced, in all of my glorious twenty-six years. Dragged out unwillingly, at least twenty minutes to find a single decent parking spot which, of course, was three good blocks away from the club. I had walked under a pouring rain only to find myself in a ramshackle old pub, hazed and smoky, with the sour stench of alcohol burning my nostrils. Kenneth had insisted that I had to come along, that I would have had fun, that I needed to get my mind off things, but he had disappeared with a skanky, barely clothed girl after two hours, leaving me alone, sober and disappointed.

My hands were already on the swinging doors as I was heading out, when a billiard ball rolled up at my feet. Scarlet, number seven. I picked it up and looked in the direction in came from. That’s when I saw you for the first time.

You stood there beside the pool table, a stick in your right hand, your left was on your chest, you were leaning backwards, head tilted back as you laughed. Quite a feminine stance, in contrast with your virile appearance. Strong legs clad in black faded jeans, muscular chest hugged by a sleeveless Guns’n’Roses tee shirt, tattoos all over your chiseled arms, hair hidden by a black bandana and a baseball hat, worn backwards. Nose scrunched up, a lip ring glistening under the fluorescent lights. The face of an angel on a body made for sin. Your deep, throaty laugh reverberated on the wooden walls, it sounded like music as it reached my ears. A short guy with hair the colors of a Christmas tree was approaching me, holding his hand out to me. As I dropped the ball in his hand I was still looking at you, and you looked right back at me. Your laugh subsided and you just smiled. Warmth exploded through my chest. It was like sunrise breaking out right in front of my eyes.

I walked back to the booth I had just left, I watched you as I sat there. Alone, sober and mesmerized. I watched you playing with your friends, I studied your interactions. Christmas hair was a little ant, everywhere, anywhere, giggling and drinking from everyone’s glass. A tall, lanky man with unkempt hair was sprawled on the leather bench behind you, under a curvy little brunette who was obliviously taking good care of him. The last one of the group was an handsome dark man, black leather pants and felt fedora, clearly your closest friend. It shone through your movements, you slid around each other as if you were dancing, no words exchanged or needed as you took turns at the pool table. Smiles and nods the only, easy conversation. Envy pooled in my chest as I witnessed your intimacy with him. One single overwhelming, all consuming thought invaded me. I needed to talk to you. If I didn’t, I was sure I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.

When you sauntered over to the counter, leaning on your elbows waiting for the bartender, I stood up, determined to do the single one thing I always swore I would never have done again. I was positive I had never been as nervous as I was as I approached you.

“Hey…”

When you turned to face me, I staggered. Up close, your beauty hit me like a freight train. Dimples pierced my heart.

“Hey…you’re the ball guy.”

Your voice was rough around the edges, but smooth like honey. Velvet against the grain.

I asked you if I could buy you a drink, lame as it sounds.

Your eyes locked with mine in the dim light. Dark rimmed irises, maple syrup and wheat and flecks of summer leaves. Golden pools calling me in. You seemed to be studying me. I was paralyzed in fear of rejection.

“A shot of Jager and a beer.”

No questioning, no taunting, no insecurity. Fierce relief washed over me. A shot of Jager and a beer. I felt like crying.

You sat down on a stool as we waited for the order. Your big, sinewy hands played with a napkin on the counter, but your eyes never left mine. The shot came and went, you didn’t even blink. You sipped on the beer, pensively.

“What’s your name, ball guy?”

Your upper lip stretched over ivory, perfectly symmetrical teeth, your tongue darted out to lick remnants of your drink off your bottom one, fuller, plump, so unbelievably kissable. I wanted to ask you what caused the small scar at the right corner of your mouth, if it had anything to do with the two balled lip ring you were wearing. But you had asked me something else, and I couldn’t not answer.

“James.”

“Nice to meet you James. I’m Matt.”

A faint five o’clock shadow on your cheeks and chin was tainting perfect, pearly skin. A shallow cleft, a hint of double chin. A butterscotch freckle on your cheekbone, under the outer corner of your left eye. I wondered if it tasted just as sweet.

“What’s your poison, James?”

“I don’t drink.”

Bushy, unruly black eyebrows raised up over your perfectly shaped nose, pushing up hat and bandana. A single horizontal wrinkle appeared on your forehead. Buckwheat freckles, three blemishes on your right temple.

“Whycome?”

Unknown courage flowed through me, now that you were talking to me. I unfastened the first two buttons of my shirt and parted its collar. You gazed intently, you studied the ink. Your fingertip traced the middle X. No questioning, again. You just nodded in understanding, eyes still trained on my chest. Your finger underlined the words. Powerful, undeniable, absolute need coursed through my veins as I watched you watch me.

You pulled away, showed me your forearm. An heart, three words.

“Mine has been broken a long time ago.”

“Heart or edge?”

“Both.”

I let my eyes linger on your arms as you still held the left out to me. A dagger. A crown. A four leafed clover. Colorful spider webs adorned both your elbows. Hands held in prayer. Flowers. A microphone, a guitar, a skull. Each tattoo was a piece of you I wanted to get to know, snapshots of a stuttering mind, chaotic colors and designs whose reasons I needed to find out.

“Can we talk for a while?”

You nodded, and followed me to my booth.

In an hour, you told me everything you considered worth knowing about yourself. I didn’t even have to ask you things, you just rambled on and on and on. I learnt everything about your band and its ever-changing bassists, your unlikely allergy to grass, your misadventure with strippers and bananas, your cheating ex, your love for sushi and barbecue pork ribs, your despisal of white underwear. You didn’t like to read much, but you loved movies, Tim Burton and Fear and Loathing, and the Shawshank redemption, De Niro and Johnny Depp. I discovered you wanted to adopt a golden retriever, that your sister played for the whole of five minutes in the WNBA, that you hated being considered a republican even if you had pretty conservative views about a lot of things. You told me of your garage and its secret Jager machine, of your mom and her cookies, of you and your fights. You were burbling out your latest musical flash of genius on an imaginary guitar, striking and picking invisible chords in the air, and I couldn’t stop myself.

“I want to go out with you.”

You stopped mid riff, laughed at me. You excused yourself, I watched you strut back to your friends and exchange a few words with them. Leather and fedora didn’t even pretend to conceal his scrutiny, as he looked over at me. His eyes conveyed a warning, a threat, a hint of approval. Permission granted. He squeezed your shoulder, patted you on your back. You came back to me, outstretched your arm towards me. My hand was in yours before I could think about what you were asking me. You pulled me up effortlessly.

“Where are we going?”

“Out.”

We were on the beach hours later, when you accepted my kiss. Your arm sneaked around my waist and you held me close as your hand threaded through my hair. The rain of the night before had given way to a clearer, lukewarm day, the sun was coming up from behind the mountains at our backs, tinting the sky all shades of orange and pink. Somehow, though, the warm colors of the morning seemed a little less beautiful, if compared to what your smile had made me see in the haze of that old saloon.

************

As I watch you now, sleeping naked and peaceful in our bed, the frames of that first night flash before my eyes, as clear as diamonds, as intense as ever.

Pushing forty, in my eyes you’re still the same gorgeous man I’ve fallen in love with more than fifteen years ago. Objectively, many things have changed. Your hair may be a little scarce around your temples now, and you’re sporting quite a few wrinkles around your eyes, but your spirit remains untamed. No more lip ring, a few more scars, gauges sewn back. From the moment our existences collided in that saloon, everything in us changed. Your career skyrocketed, mine went down the drain. You had to compromise and I had to start again. We had to make choices, some easy, some suffered, all unavoidable. We still have to, but now we know we’ll always make it through, one way or another.

The tv flickers in a corner of the room, turned on mute and forgotten as you were making love to me. Its faint bluish glow illuminates the skin not covered by the white cotton sheet. The tattoos are still as bright as they were, even more so with all the additions you made during the years. I stroke my favorite one, a three piece on your left hipbone. A scarlet billiard ball, whose little number seven could be easily mistaken for a “J”, with two baby footprints at its sides, inked on your skin the very same day our babies were given to us. Zoe’s, on the left, and Alice’s, smaller, on the right. Us.

Your eyes flutter open and you sleepily smile at me. Warmth and oranges and pinks and purples flood me. I rest my head on the crook of your neck. Luckily, some things resist unscathed the test of time.

***********

It was raining when I walked through the door
I didn't know that I'd find what I was looking for
I saw you there from across the room
Through the haze and the smoke of that old saloon
I tried looking away but I just had to stay
They say that time keeps flying on by
But I keep thinking about that first night

I saw you smiling
I knew I had to talk to you had to swallow my pride
I heard you telling all your friends you met someone
And how we talked all night
And I still hear you, and I still see you after all this time

I sat down and bought you one more drink
Listened to you talk, I swear I could hear you think
So I asked you "Could I see you again?"
You just laughed and grabbed my hand
You've been holding on tight, ever since that night
They say that time keeps flying on by
But if I'm with you that's alright.

I saw you smiling
I knew I had to talk to you had to swallow my pride
I heard you telling all your friends you met someone
And how we talked all night
And I still hear you, and I still see you after all this time

And after all the good, the bad, the ugly and the sad
I remember that first day and I still feel the same
I saw you smiling from across the room

I saw you smiling
I knew I had to talk to you had to swallow my pride
I heard you telling all your friends you met someone
And how we talked all night (after all this time)
I saw you smiling (after all this time)
I saw you smiling (after all this time)
I saw you smiling
I saw you smiling

Burn Halo, "Saloon song"