What was Once a Glass of Merlot

It had been a while since she had gone on a date. Quite a while. She was comforted by her solitude, by the warn cushions of her couch, and by the silence. But the pestering had eroded the last of her self-esteem. Her mother noted that there was a clock ticking and swore she was running out of time. Her sister built a profile and monitored it daily for Mr. Right in his digital shining armor.

When the doorbell rang, she was expecting a pizza, not her overzealous sibling, toting a suitcase of makeup and stilettos. She dropped everything in the entry and cheered that tonight was the night. She plucked, prodded, puffed, perfumed, and pushed her out the door.

She caught her reflection as the cab pulled up, a faint resemblance. She sympathized with Cinderella's plight, though this was a far cry from a carriage ride. The taxi had the lingering, layered aroma of the body odor of a lifetime of passengers. She held her breath for the last two blocks.

Stepping out into the fresh air, she took a deep breath that quickly turned into a yawn. At five 'till 7:00, she would normally be tucked into a blanket, plugged into the tv, not bumping into strangers on some oddly numbered avenue. But it was too late to turn back. She was already there.

She watched as the stream of cars and pedestrians mingled in the night, choreographed by the streetlight metronome. The wet pavement glistened, as the headlights danced with the raindrops in the crisp breeze. Alone, fidgeting under the marquee's glow, she stood and nervously waited. He picked the place, he picked the time, perhaps he meant to meet inside.

Music exhaled through the door as the couples shuffled in. She followed the hostess, like a duckling, to her seat. She took a deep breath and ordered a glass of Merlot. The beat filled the air where conversation lacked, words seemed superfluous amongst the rhythm. Perhaps that's why he chose this place. The ambiance of the room embraced her and ignited a new sense of wonder, curiosity, purpose, courage, and confidence. As the band began to play, she knew this was not just a first date, but also a last.

The night lingered on and the drinks flowed, inspiring the raucous crowd off their seats. As the waiter passed by, she nodded towards her empty drink. She was never much of a dancer. She always feared her feet would veer outside the lines. She feared looking foolish, standing out, what others would think. It could have been the contagious energy of the dimly lit room, but tonight she was done playing it safe. Somehow, without saying a word, he had opened her mind to a new genre, of herself.

Tonight, she danced. She stomped to the crash of the hi-hat. She echoed the wails of the stage. She swayed to the romantic, candle-lit melodies as they poured from saxophone into her soul. As the encore began, she breathlessly found her seat and once again nodded to the lipstick lined glass.

Her rosy cheeks were sore from the smile that had not once left her face. Her hair, as disheveled and wild as her newfound inner self. Even her feet had abandoned their shoes.

As the darkness lifted, hushed giggles shuffled towards the door, couples leaned into each other's embrace. She flirtatiously swirled, sipped and savored her night cap. She rose and exited with the tide, heels in hand. Leaving behind a previous version of herself, and a glass that was once Merlot. Beneath the lights of the marquee, she glowed.

She knew no date would ever compare. She blushed, feeling the flutter of inner excitement. She wanted to twirl around the lamp post and shout into the streets. It was the most miraculous night.

The night was still young when she got home, but she couldn’t sleep. She opened a window to let in the city's song and reminisced on the evening. She sat, stared, poured a glass of Merlot, and began to feel sorry for the man that didn't show.