She Rode a Comet

I ran into this interesting woman at the Lounge the other night just before last call. I tried to snap her picture with my cell phone camera but every time I pointed it at her she gave me a backhand and I fell off the stool. After three or four attempts, I finally gave up, even though our antics were wildly entertaining to the regulars who were still lurking there.

She wouldn't even tell me her name and all I can really remember about her is that she had auburn hair, a pale complexion accentuated by the right amount of freckles in just the right places, and that she spoke with what they used to call "an Anglicized accent", which made her sound like part of the Knickerbocker upper crust from 1930's Manhattan. I fell in love immediately.

When she was ready to leave, I asked her if I could walk her out and she said that would be fine.

"Where's your car?" I asked her once we were out in the parking lot. It was one of those starry nights that I like so much.

"Huh?" she replied, looking well over her limit of think-a-hol.

"What are you driving?" I asked, rephrasing the question.

"A comet," she said.

"Wow," I cooed, "I haven't seen a Mercury Comet in years. Is it fully restored?"

"Huh?" she said.

"Where's your Comet?" I asked, cutting to the chase.

"Up there," she said, pointing to a part of the sky just above the roof. And, much to my disbelief, there it was. A big, bright geostationary comet waiting for her above the Lounge.

Well...I'm not sure how she got aboard that comet and I probably should have waited around and found out for myself. But, like a scared rabbit, I went back inside and ordered another shot of think-a-hol, instead. And then another.

I hope I get to see her again one day soon. But opportunities like that usually come around only once. And I'm still kicking myself for not hitching a ride on her comet.