Birds Of A Feather

 “Evening, Ms. Byrd.”

“Evening, Charlie.”

“We’re closed, or as closed as we can get with Cupid over here. Can I getcha anything?”

Katrina Byrd looked over at an incredibly forlorn customer, a woman in a bright red dress who’d looked to the door when Katrina came in, but disappointment dragged her gaze back into her arms.

“A, um- Honestly, Charlie, I could go for anything. What’ve you got in extra?”

“I think the diet soda undersold today.”

“Perfect, it’s practically calling to me to drink a little less sugar.”

Charlie snickered, “I think if you go on a health craze, Ms. Byrd, you’ll blow away in the wind.”

She shrugs, “Maybe I will, but at least then I can finally say I’m above it all~”

Charlie let out a horse, bellowing laugh, before promising to get the drink and disappearing in the back.

The silence of the front end of the bar could not be overstated. The lights made their strange seating arrangement, a place apart, feel almost like a comedy stage compared to the wings of the kitchen and the dancer’s pole. But it wasn’t comfortable, and Katrina wasn’t really a performer. Nonetheless…

“Didn’t show?”

‘Cupid’ raised her head up, her mascara clearly having run all the way down her face.

“Left. Promised-“ She seemed to hesitate, glancing at the door. “She promised to come back, but- n-never.. never diiiid…”

The last word came out like a wail, and she planted her head back in her arms, groaning and bemoaning her situation, as Charlie came back with a tall glass of diet dr. pop.

"Here y’ are, Ms. Byrd. Anything else I can get for ya before I start turning the kitchen utilities off?”

Katrina beckoned him closer and questioned into his ear: “Who’s she?”

“’Romance’,” he answered, matching her hushed tone.

“Her name is ‘Romance’?”

He snickered, “No, no. She’s one of the dancers. They all got a genre. Horror’s a knockout, believe you me. But she’s known for her Doe-eyes and overly affectionate heart, so they call her Romance.”

Charlie turned to shut of the kitchen.

“Wait a moment, Charlie.”

“Hm?”

“Could you.. fix up a burger?”

“What sort?”

“Uhh, regular, I think?”

He gave her a funny look. “And what’s ‘Regular’ to Ms. Plain-Burger-Byrd?”

“Just- give me an average one.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Katrina scooted one seat over towards the stranger, Romance, who had clearly sobbed herself out a couple hours ago.

“How long have you been waiting..?”

Romance shook her head. “All day.”

“How’d you run into them..?”

“She liked my show, we got talking, I offered to get her a drink.”

“And she said no?”

Romance shook her head, “No, she said yes. But she wanted to be okay with being drunk, so she went to take her car home first.”

“And how far away does she live?”

“Apparently, ten minutes.”

“And you’ve been waiting for..?”

“Three hours.”

Even a wardrobe malfunction isn’t that inconvenient, Katrina thought.

“I thought being a dancer at a gay bar would make it easier,” Romance continued, “’What could go wrong? Worst they can say is no.’ No, worst they can say is ‘yes’, and then vanish like some guy more into one-night stands than actual emotional honesty.”

She took a big swing of her drink, which was fairly curious to watch since it’d clearly been empty for a few minutes.

Katrina tilted her head in thought, “Maybe there’ll be someone tomorrow.”

Romance planted her face in her folded arms and shook her head, “Yeah, right. People barely want the dancer at a usual place for more than a one-night stand, here it’s basically taboo.”

“It’s not taboo, you’re being a little dramatic with that.”

“It’s certainly not popular!”

“Approaching people you don’t know rarely is.”

“But isn’t that the whole point of a bar?!”

“Depends on who you are, really. Some people just come to read.”

“Who comes to a bar to read?!”

Katrina glanced at her bag, musing. “You know. People.”

“Ugh.. Right, well, whatever people do with their time, I spend mine failing to get a date.”

“Well, what about your friends?”

“What about them?”

“Have you already tried finding someone you like among them?”

“…”

Katrina laid her head on the table, her eyes on Romance.

“Well?”

“…Noo.”

“Why not?”

“They’re not as interesting.”

“Really? Why’s that.”

Romance sat up for once, and instead of looking like a kicked puppy, looked into her glass with a lot more lucid sadness.

“They don’t.. really.. like talking to me.”

“They don’t?”

She shook her head. “We don’t.. share many interests, and they don’t really have time to chat about much because they’re always so busy. Can’t even really get ahold of them half the time, their telephones go straight to voicemail.”

Katrina nodded, “That.. can tend to happen as life shifts and changes. Bubblegum?”

“You just have gum on you?”

“You don’t?”

She shrugs, “No pockets.”

“Why not get a purse?”

“I’m scared I’d lose it somewhere.”

“Where do you keep your license, then?”

Romance tugs at the top of her dress.

“Ohh, fair enough.”

“What about you? You got a nice coat. You got a solution to everything?”

Katrina sighs, head on her hand, glancing out the window. “I wish. Maybe I wouldn’t wind up in so many toxic relationships.”

“If you’re in one, and you know it’s toxic, why not break up?”

“I did, earlier tonight.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence enters, and manages to third-wheel in spite of having no lips to voice anything with. Or, for that matter, anything to voice.

“Here’s ya burger, Byrd.” Charlie delivers a regular burger on a platter, leaving it in front of Katrina. “Ya both got about twenty minutes and then I gotta kick you out so I can go back home, ya hear?”

“What, is Ray gonna throw a fit if you don’t get home in time?”

Charlie laughed, “No, I will. Don’t get between a man and his love. Or his meal. We’re havin’ some good ol’ fashioned pasta, and I gotta tell ya, that’s been getting me through today.”

“Sorry, Char,” Romance mumbled.

“Ain’t you, Cupid. Some knucklehead thought it’d be funny to chuck a full glass mug at my face this morning.”

“Oh, god, what? I’m sorry to hear that,” came from Katrina.

“It is what it is. Some people don’t like to pay up. Regulars threw him out, so I kept my pride. Anyway, I meant it. Twenty minutes, I’mma lock up. Figure out where ya goin’. And if you need a ride home, Romance, now’s the time to say.”

Romance shook her head, and Charlie headed into the back.

Another silence.

Romance pulled her head up and looked at Katrina. Katrina looked back, amused, and took another sip of her drink.

Romance opened up, “Can I get your number?”

Katrina almost spit out her drink. The question caught her so off guard she started laughing. “What? Why do you want my number?”

“To keep in touch.”

“But we just met!”

“And you listened to me rave about my sucky love life and I could use friends. You can say no if you don’t want to.”

Katrina’s expression elected to display a lopsided smile, and she took a napkin off the counter and wrote down her number. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?”

“No, but I am okay to pass out in the parking lot and drive home after the sobering that nap will give me.”

“Fair enough.” She slid the napkin over. “Call me sometime.”

Romance took the napkin. “You’re serious?”

“I could use some friends too.”

Romance nodded, “Byrds of a feather, huh?”

Katrina laughed. “Sure, birds of a feather. We’ll fly together.”