One Tequila…

You are currently reading from the Trials and Tribulations of a Crazy Asian Series.

As I made my way through the lobby of The Plaza, all I could think about was how Home Alone 2: Lost in New York just didn’t measure up to being there in person.

I was greeted by a rogue bellhop asking if he could help me with anything – seeing as how I couldn’t manage to stop walking in circles, staring wide-eyes at the chandeliers and elegant lighting.  I told him I was meeting someone, but didn’t know where.

He ushered me to the concierge who asked for the name of the party and I said, “Mr. Englander.”  The concierge then proceeded to furrow his eyebrow with the utmost distinction, smirked slightly, and said he would be more than happy to escort me to The Rose Club…where Cole was waiting.

“Thanks, George,” Cole said, shaking (and possibly slipping something into) his hand, “I’ll take it from here.”

Cole smiled as though he had been waiting his whole life for me to arrive, sauntered over, and kissed me lightly on the cheek.  “You look gorgeous.”
“Oh what?” I giggled, doing a twirl, “This old thing?  It was just something I had lying around.”

He smiled, shaking his head slightly and pulled out a chair at the mahogany bar.  “My lady?”
“Well aren’t you the gentleman?”
“The night is young.  What’ll you have?”

I thought about this seriously for a moment – vodka was always for nights I never remembered, beer for nights I wanted to forget and rum for nights I wanted to get frisky.  I scanned the shelf for something special – something new.

“What be your poison, girlie?” Cole asked, sipping some anonymous liquor.
“I’ll have a Gran Patrón on the rocks, please.”
“Bold.” he smirked, “I like that.”
“You know, a lover once used to call me ‘tequila’.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because he was always sorry in the morning.” I smiled.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

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