I have all night -- Part One

I flicked my cigarette out before I walked back into the bar. I now had to strain my memory to recall the days when I could enjoy a brew and a butt at the same time.

Like everything else I loved about my city, those days were long gone. New York had moved on and I was still stuck. More and more I felt like a relic of a different era. I was a good ten years older than everyone else in this place. I was on the verge of crossing the line from mysterious older guy to pathetic pervert.

But I still had a few years left. At least that's what I tell myself before I head out the door. A few hours later and I wasn't sure if I had many days left. I looked around hoping someone would look back. The only thing I saw were my dark eyes in the mirror behind the bar telling me it was time to leave.

As always, I ignored my eyes. Refused to see what they were showing me. I pounded my beer, knocked it on the bar and waited for a fresh bottle to appear in front of me. When it did, I took a swig and then headed to the bathroom.

I looked in the mirror as I took out my pack of smokes, reached inside and fished out the little plastic bag. Another promise was about to bite the dust as I put my key into the bag and pulled it out slowly with a tiny pile of powder on the end. I moved that key like it was a tong lifting a prize out of a game. Then I lifted it to my nose and sucked it up. I repeated the process with my other nostril and felt that little rush and then the drip in the back of my throat. I flushed, put my baggie back in the pack and headed back to the bar where I took a swig from the fresh bottle.

"Is that your book?" I heard a voice ask.

I turned sharply and saw that a redhead was sitting on the stool next to me. She had long hair that hung across her face, covering one of her eyes. She was wearing a black turtle neck, black skirt, dark stockings and black pumps. I only felt like I was from a different era. She looked like she just walked out of the 1940s.

I looked back at the book on the bar. It was Fante's Ask the Dust. Yes, it was mine.

"You reading it, or is it just a prop."

"A little of both," I said. "I've already read it."

"Does it work?"

"Not really," I said, sniffing up to try to get a little more of a lift.

"You have a cold?"

"Not really," I said as I pulled my pack out.

"You going for a smoke?"

"Yeah, wanna come?"

"Sure," she said. She slid around on the chair and stood up. She was just the right height. Came up to my shoulders with her heels on.

We got outside and I handed her a smoke and pulled out my zippo and gave her a light.

"You're old school. I like it."

"I'm not old school, just old," I said while lighting my cigarette.

She exhaled through her nose and smiled.

"You don't look that old."

"Old is a state of mind and my mind is in a state of senility."

"Maybe you need to be jolted back into now," she said.

"What's your name."

"Danielle, but everyone calls me Dani."

"Nice to meet you, Danielle. I'm JB."

"JB what?"

"Just JB," I said while taking a drag.

"Well, just JB, lets go back in and finish our drinks."

"I may not be finished for awhile."

"That's OK. I have all night."

We'll see about that, I thought to myself as I held the door open for her.