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"Yes, he says he can tell that you don't like him much, either."
Very observant, I thought. Maybe he wasn't so dumb. "Well, I'm sorry he feels that way."
"I think he's jealous," she said.
"Of me?"
"Yes, he has no people skills and he sees how comfortable you are, talking with strangers, especially women. He hates that. Plus he thinks every man is out to steal me away from him, like I was his property."
"Well, it's my job to be sociable. I'm not this outgoing, usually. And I avoid being too friendly to women when they come in with a man for that same reason, men get jealous."
"Is that why you look away when I smile at you?" she asked, calmly, and I looked to see her smiling even then.
I smiled back. "I didn't mean to look away, just trying to watch the customers."
"Sure... anyway, I don't mean to bend your ear, just wondered about you and Gus, whether he was right."
There was my exit, my chance to get out of this line of chat, but no! I couldn't leave well-enough alone. "Actually, he was right. He's just not my kind of guy, sorry."
"Very good!" she said, like we had a breakthrough. "Now, why?"
"Well, for one thing, he seems very bossy to you, and over-bearing, and jealous. I think women should be treated like ladies, until they prove themselves otherwise."
She watched me over her glass. "So, you think I'm a lady?"
"You asked why. That's my answer. Excuse me, another customer."
The conversation got lighter, then. Her name was Maggie, divorced, no kids. Had dated Gus for 3 months, even though he was married, supposedly separated. Now she found out he was still with his wife and two kids, so he slinked away when she confronted him.
There was only one couple left, nursing their drinks, so Maggie played the juke box, slow, sleepy love songs, probably feeling sorry for herself but remaining friendly. The song from the Eighties, "Lady in Red" came on, and she touched my hand. "That's me, the lady in red, my favorite color."
I smiled. "It looks good on you."
She squeezed my hand. "Can you dance with me?"
Why not? If someone came in, I'd just stop and serve them. And I doubted that, at this hour. So, we stood at the end of the bar, and she came to me, and leaned right in, her chest melting into mine. Not being an expert, I would put her as a 36D, which seemed even larger since she was about 5'5, with large heels, almost teetering. Her arms were around my waist, and she held me close. I didn't complain. We swayed until the song ended, and even then, kept moving.
She looked up, our faces close,and whispered, "Thanks, Mitch," and I was tempted to kiss her, but just said, "Thank you, too."
It got to be last call, and I announced it. The couple seemed to be waiting for it, like a school bell, and was gone in a minute. Maggie asked if she could wait while I closed up.
"Sure, then I can make sure you get to your car." I shut off the outside lights, and cleaned the bar, my usual routine while we continued talking. In the dim light, it seemed so intimate, and she continued to smile.
"Okay, almost ready. How about you?" I asked.
"Tonight was fun, Mitch, thanks for listening."
"My pleasure," I said as I stepped from behind the bar.
She came to me again, as if to dance, and wrapped her arms around me. She looked up and said, "I thought you were going to kiss me before."
"I thought about it."
"What stopped you?"
"You just broke up with Gus, you're vulnerable. And I was working."
"I'm not that vulnerable, and now you're done work. What's stopping you now?"
