Sticky Lime to the Rim
by Mike Casper
Shookkkaa Shoooka Shoookaaa-Shookkaah Shooka Shooooka-Shookkaa. Clink. I set the metal mixer aside and went on to the next task of preparing my masterpiece. Casually, I applied sticky lime to the rim then pressed it into the salt ring. A generous handful of crushed cubes, brittle and spiky, took up precious volume in the glass. This was my talent, my gift.
Then, as carefully as a goldsmith pouring melt into a form, I emptied the mixer into the one liter glass. Instantly, the sides fogged with condensation, and I noted with pride that not one granule of salt had fallen from its perch.
(giving new meaning to a bar scene)
A healthy, dark green lime found itself drawn, quartered and garnishing my creation. I licked my lips and tasted the recent past. I love the bitter smell of citrus. And something else.
I said softly, so what were you expecting this time, baby? Strawberries? Champagne? A pseudo-sexual foray into the shadows of illusion? Wordsmith play lightly touching on 50 shades? Top shelf titillation? Or not? Now that I’m playing barkeep, is that what you want? “Listen up, Darla: I’m in control now. Me.”
She gripped something firm and swayed a little. She was very close and I could see her chest heaving. I liked what I saw and she knew it. She licked her lips and I saw a rivulet of sweat run down her neck, between the girls. It was very warm now, and the lights had a bit of a halo around them. She breathed, “No, you’re not. I am.” I realized I was in trouble, and knew she was right. “I want you to do it like you did last time. With meaning. Tease me. Probe me. Dive deep into the glass. Give me everything.” I loved her pouty, sultry voice. She mouthed a kiss and pulled away. I saw amusement in her eyes. “It’s a special night, you know. Baby.”
She turned to the crowd, “Right, ladies? Welcome to LADIES NIGHT at Bud’s Bar and Grill!!” A cheer went up and the jukebox started blaring. I sighed and smiled. I was in my element… again.