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I turned to her and opened my mouth…
But no words came out. I focused on my beer again.
Next time, have something to say to her, asshole!
“Don’t you just hate these things?” she said.
I looked her over. Who was she talking to?
The bartender had disappeared into the cellar and no one else was within earshot. She must be speaking to me.
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “They’re never much fun.”
She turned to face me and leaned her elbow on the bar.
“A bit of a stuffy party if you ask me,” she said. “But all these lord and lady types seem to enjoy them. I guess they must be stuffy too.”
I’m a lord and lady type…
“Yeah,” I said. “Right.”
She looked me over.
“I always manage to stick my foot in it,” she said. “You’re one of the guests here?”
“One of the stuffy lords,” I said, raising my hands in surrender.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you. I just meant… Forget I said anything.”
“To be honest with you,” I said, checking over my shoulders. “I’m not sure how many people would be here if they didn’t have to be.”
The girl slid along the bar a little closer.
“Didn’t have to be?” she said. “What do you mean?”
I’d better watch my tongue. The ale was beginning to loosen the knots.
“I mean, it’s a forced social gathering,” I said. “We were invited here but we’d prefer not to have to travel all this way.”
“Right,” the girl said, and now she checked over her shoulders. “I thought some sort of political thing was happening, like those insect things were taking over or something.”
I was surprised by her level of insight. I didn’t want to get her in trouble so I changed the subject.
“So, what brings you here?” I said.
“I’m here to entertain all you rich and powerful people,” she said.
I looked her over. At least this time she gave me an opening to do so. “Are you a dancer?”
She laughed. It rang like a bell.
Just like my wife’s.
“I’m the worst dancer you’ve ever seen,” she said.
“I’m not sure about that,” I said.
“Oh, I am.”
