Moody Meow

Liberal, lunatic lassie, with mood swings and foot-in-mouth syndrome

Is That a Cabernet?

Posted on | September 1, 2006 | 6 Comments

My little short short story for last night.

I stood behind the cigarette-scarred bar with sweaty armpits, agonizing over drink recipes. Was our high end vodka Grey Goose or Belvedere? How did you make a Cosmo? Did a dry martini have gin or vodka? An olive? Did we have olives? Where are the lemons? Did I remember to cut the lemons? Shit.

“Erica, we’re about to open. You okay?” Jen’s hopeful smile made my stomach flop. She bartended with gritty grace, and for a month, tried to teach me all she knew. I think she saw my grimace. “Don’t sweat it, hon. Take it one person at a time. Don’t let them fluster you. You’re in control behind your bar. Remember, it’s your bar.”

“Yeah, my bar,” I muttered, while trying to remember what went into a Sex on the Beach.

I turned to get my bearings. Feet shuffled, hushed laughter and the uncomfortable honk of wood against wood as the barstools were pulled out by the customers. They were sounds I recognized, but they filled my belly with terror. I turned to face them, the thirsty masses yearning for their drink. The bar throbbed with strangers. Jen disappeared into the back room. I needed a friendly face.

She smiled through the smoke that wafted from her cigarette. Dark tresses swept over her pale shoulders. She smiled.

I shuffled over to her. “Hello love, what can I get you?” Carefully, I laid down a white drink napkin in front of her.

“I’ll take a cabernet.” Her smooth voice reminded me of Irish cream and coffee.

I turned to the shelf behind me. Our selection of wine was limited to three bottles, all cheap with curling labels. Grabbing a freshly washed wine glass, I polished it, and set it down before her. I poured the wine with precision and care.

“Here you go!” I beamed.

She pushed the glass towards me.“Is this a cabernet?”

“Uhm” My smile fell. “Yeah.”

“Cabernets are red.” She wasn’t smiling.

I looked at her glass, and then to the wine bottle still in my hand. It said Chardonnay.

Category: Revelation in Text, Rollins College

Comments

6 Responses to “Is That a Cabernet?”

  1. Claire
    September 1st, 2006 @ 8:11 am

    I’d dare call that flash fiction, a genre I never thought I was very good at. I can do vignettes better, because then I have about two or three pages to work with. Good writing there.

  2. Meow
    September 1st, 2006 @ 8:25 am

    Thank you very much. Honestly, it’s hard for me to write something that short. I think I am going to use it as vehicle for focus in my writing. I like to get into finite detail. But I feel like I am allowing my own ego to move a story rather than producing a clear narrative for the reader. Either way, it made me write yesterday. And I shall do so today.

  3. Meow
    September 1st, 2006 @ 8:30 am

    Side note, I just re-read that and I found more stuff I can edit. Little things that are repetitive in the same sentence and such. I think that is where I have the most fun, editing and reworking a piece. The liberating thing about editing is that I’ve become less embarrassed about the initial attempt.

  4. Claire
    September 1st, 2006 @ 8:33 am

    I always feel a lot better editing after a workshop. Once someone else has butchered it, I am free to let go of some little things I may have been holding onto. Typically my pieces are much better afterwards.

  5. Meow
    September 1st, 2006 @ 9:03 am

    I am a big fan of workshops, although I have a tendancy to get bitchy if I think that people are just being mean. I’m kind of outspoken, but I think I am fair. That’s often taken for cruelty so I get the nastiness in return. I had a great workshop group for a writing class a few years ago. I wish I still had those women in my life….we trusted each other implicitly so I think the critiques were always honest. They made me a better writer

  6. Hollie
    September 1st, 2006 @ 2:55 pm

    See… I want the rest?

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