“Never been in a bar like this before have you, cowboy?” The fringe of his dress clung to his thigh, as he crossed one leg over the other.
“That obvious?” My voices sounded scratchy and dry despite the fact that I’d been drinking this beer continuously for the last minute. I reached up and straightened my bolo tie. I did look out of place.
“Well you pressed your jeans.” He tapped my knee. He had rings on his fingers. I’d never seen a man who dressed like him before. “Where you from, cowboy?”
“And you came all the way to New Orleans to come here?” He knocked the orange peel garnishing the glass into his cocktail. He raised it to his lips and took a sip.
“I’d heard about the Cafe Lafitte in Exile. Like stories. About the kind of people here.” I looked around the room. There were bulldaggers in suits smoking cigarettes, women in wigs sitting on the laps of handsome men, and pretty faced fellas kissing in the corners.
“They tell stories of us on the farms in Darnell?”
“They just sorta whisper about it.” I said, looking down at my glass. He laughed. It was a loud, high, brassy sort of laugh. Like the girls who didn’t attend church. Or somebody beating on a tin roof. I finished my beer. He stopped laughing and looked at me, tipping his head to the side. He was looking at me real hard. I felt myself getting warm. Was I blushing?
“Rough trade?” He asked again.
“Are you just stopping in for a good time, Chuck? Or are you one of us?” He leaned towards me. I was definitely blushing. He was real handsome, from his slick hair to his large eyes. He was wearing a dress like girls wore a few years back, glittery with fringe on the edges. He was wearing red lipstick and had dark eyes like the ladies in the pictures.
“I… I’d like to come back again in the future. I’d like to be a regular.” I didn’t know if that would count as an answer but I still wasn’t sure I understood the question. I didn’t wear dresses, I didn’t go dancing with boys, I didn’t know half the words he used. But I liked him.
“You’d like to come back.” He repeated, smiling widely.
“Uh-huh.” I swallowed nervously. He took out his purse and pulled his card from it. He handed it to me.
“When you come back, why don’t you call me. Let me know you’re coming. I’d like to see you, if that’s alright.” I looked down at the card. His number and name were printed there. I looked back up at him. He finished his cocktail and stood up. He stuck out his hand to me. I shook it. His hand was soft and gentle. He then stooped and kissed my hand, leaving a perfect mark of lipstick on my knuckles. He stood back up and laughed at me. I shut my mouth, which had been gaping like a fish.
“Yeah that would be alright.” I managed. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears and my head spinning. He let go of my hand and gave me one last smile, before walking off. I sat there and tried to catch my breath.
