We're having just one drink.

So here we are again, face to face with the awkward silence. I divert my imaginary green eyes that in reality are shit brown to my hands that are asleep in my lap. You just sigh quietly while your dirty blond hair gently stays in place. It's your turn to comment, I made the last remark that has brought us here to this awkward silence...I'm good for that. I don't think you know this bit about me and I'd share it with you but after, after this conversation. You'll confirm and then we'll laugh like two eight year olds who discover that the slide at the neighborhood park can also send clumps of muddy sand down it plummeting the kid in front of it. Trust me, you'll get it. I bring those shitty brown eyes to your face and I give you the look, that look that reads, "You can say it. I start it and you can finish it." You don't pick up on this bit instead you look at my chest thinking this is close enough to looking at me without doing the actual work. I'm tempted to flip you off placing my middle left finger across my left boob just to respond. But I'm a lady and I think I'll try that trick on the next fool who thinks it's okay to check out my rack in front of me at me.
"I never said I was single, I mean I never said I wasn't single. I wasn't confirming anything and I was hoping you were getting this...am I close to your observation?" He says to my chest.
It's my turn to look in that spot that clearly states, "I can't deal with this topic so I'm going to look away and the while pretending to be tuned into you...and your bald head." The thing is is that he's not bald, he's full of hair and shit. I need to learn the difference between them both if I want this conversation to end in my favor. "I believe the word you used to describe your ad was 'interested' and that to me translates as someone who doesn't have a wife and child at home while cruising the Internet. Am I close to your lie?" Back down killa. He will get it but don't give it to him all at once, the slow feeding for this one should be fun but in slow motion. "Yes, interested was the word I used perhaps I wasn't thinking...carefully when I posted. Does this still propose a problem." I hate men who think they're cool while staring at me with blue eyes. I'm a sucker for blue eyes and for the killing. He's leaned into me and has finally taken his eyes off of my rack, maybe he got that it was my mouth doing all the responding and not the girls. How do men seem more confident when they're cheating, he's relaxed. He is calm like his marriage is a mirage and I am clearly the glass of water he's witnessing while hanging out in this dessert. And he smells so good, I can eat him up from here. His white button up shirt makes him seem innocent and desirable. I love how his jeans have that crease where his penis lives, the outline of a man's penis is the equivalence to a woman's see through bra or erected nipple bursting through the shirt. I like what's being outlined and I know he likes my outline because his eyes have returned to silently conversing with my girls again. I can't believe the attention span on this guy.
"I'm not really comfortable with knowing that a woman has your last name out there. I answered that ad because I want a man's last name, all to myself. And with you...well, this isn't going to happen and it's not fair to me. If you were my husband I'd cut your balls off and scrape your eyes out and feed you bible scriptures for the hope of changing you into a decent man! I hope to God, your wife figures this out and leaves your sweet smelling ass." He is smiling and oddly his smile is contagious. I smile back at him but I'm definitly sure for other reasons. He is fidgeting while smiling at me, his eyes never once leave mine and I think he's forgotten about my breasts. He is now laughing while gently shaking his bourbon on the rocks around with his middle left finger. Hey, he read my mind. I start laughing because it's funny, not in a knock knock joke kind of way but in a man from Nantucket kind of way. Who are we?
He leans in face to my face and I can smell the bourbon on his breath and I can see that his eyes are blue with black lining and I can smell his $100 a bottle of cologne that his wife purchased for him for father's day and I can feel his heart beating rapidly. God, I hate a good looking man when he's invading my privacy. "So...are you in or out?" He asks me.