You win some, you lose some. The ALP just won back the WA State seat of Fremantle (predicted) and lost the overall election to the Liberal/ National alliance (also predicted). I live in Fremantle, so, like I said, you win some, you lose some.
This was all happening while I was enjoying being at a concert with the Kill Devil Hills at the Freo Arts Centre. A good night. The band has improved enormously since I last heard them live some years ago.
It’s late and the brain has largely gone to mush so no more chat, just this:
Everybody looks pretty on Saturday night
Can I get you a drink, she asked, taking me by surprise
She’d come in about six or seven minutes ago
Took a stool a metre along the bar from where I was
Slowly working through my third beer for the evening
There aren’t many men who would reject that offer
And I certainly wasn’t among them, not this night
When I reliably expected to spend it alone
Just talking to the bar attendant and maybe my beer
A nod of appreciation was enough, she called for another
Of whatever I was having, moved closer bringing her arm
In touch with mine, smiling quietly while raising her glass
As the next round of beer arrived, I raised it in reply
She wasn’t in any hurry, sat sipping at the green concoction
In the long stemmed tube she held between finger and thumb
I thought I’d wait her out, let her set up the conversation
As she’d already set up the drinks, casual and confident
There are several possibilities for the direction things could go
The years had taught me that I wasn’t much at prediction
Added to that, I’d lost the knack of initiative if I ever had it
Whatever was going to happen would take its own time
Her drink was almost finished, she turned to me again
Don’t talk much, do you, she wanted to know, eyes wide
I suppose I don’t have much to say, I answered round the rim
Of my beer, then smiled at the silliness of it and that was enough
Well, talk’s not always necessary, she told me in the moment
Before she leaned in and kissed me full on the lips, lingeringly
When she stopped, I still didn’t say anything, though I understood
Very well where our conversation was going, and still waited
I called for another round of drinks and set money on the bar
Everyone understood these were the last for the evening
We dawdled over them in comfortable silence, not talking
Just letting our proximity say what little needed to be said
Did the night develop into anything of consequence, did it go on
Not really, it seldom does work out like the movies pretend
I hadn’t anticipated that it would, and so wasn’t disappointed
Yet I hoped as we left the bar, hoped that tonight it might.
Ruari Jack Hughes