I dislike overly manicured fingernails. I like them as close to natural as possible. I don't mind some color, but not much, and, please, don't let them grow so long they look like talons. Let them be slightly innocent, trimmed and buffed. Attached to long fingers that taper to gently probing tips.
Just such fingers were handing me my last old fashioned as I sat at the huge solid oak bar in downtown Kansas City. I had finished eating at a place not too far away from where 12th and Vine once was. Not there anymore. But you can still get great barbecue burnt ends. When you're finished eating Kansas City barbecue head to this place. My kind of joint. The oranges are always fresh for my old fashioned cocktails.
Her finger tips lingered for only a trace of too long. You know? Not aggressive, but willing, receptive. I smiled, picked up my drink, and sipped. Smooth and old fashioned, just as I was. I nibbled on the cherry as a fan wafted the delicate scent of her Emeraude perfume across the bar. It had it's own top notes of orange and lemon. I had a good nose and I was certain she did, too. Slightly upturned, as it were, and covered with freckles.
This was my third old fashioned tonight but the first she had served to me. I would have noticed her immediately. We were in the Vine district and the populace here was definitely on the dusky or darkly creamy-cum-cocoa side. My ancestry was birthed in the south and so was hers. Mine had a touch of Asian spice added from mother. She displayed the tones of a merrily mixed woman with hair that grew as it wished, and it wished to be free.
I smiled and she returned it as she began cleaning up her station here. Apparently she was in charge of clearing up now that the final bell had sounded. I was in no rush. I had an old fashioned to savor. She was in no rush either. Good paying customers are cherished in the service industries. Or they had best be if you want to, at the least, break even and pay your staff.
"Need a ride home tonight? It's been raining and the streets were wet when I arrived here," I queried quietly as she moved behind the register. She shook her head. Never hurts to ask.
"Thank you, but I have my car here. I couldn't leave it in the lot overnight. Not a good idea," and she waved her delicate fingers to the side.
"That's cool then. Since you're finishing up though I can at least walk you to your vehicle. I brought in an umbrella since it was raining as I arrived. I've finished my old fashioneds for the night." I passed over my card for her to complete paying out my tab. She swiftly completed that transaction, closed out her drawer, and gathered her things.
Apparently I was escorting her outside to the parking lot in the rear.