She looked just like Anna Kendrick.
If I wasn’t sitting on a wobbly bar stool, stationed at some dive bar in the heart of some barely-heard-of small town, I would have thought it was actually her. Anna Kendrick, I mean.
I didn’t think much of her when I found my seat at the bar top, shifting the seat back and forth before sandwiching myself close enough to the edge of the bar that the seat stayed almost still. She was across the bar and facing the other wall, barely swaying her hips back and forth to the rock and roll music blaring from the speakers while she organized the rows of bottles to make sure that every label was facing the front.
… As if us bar patrons had no idea what each bottle held, just by the shape of the bottle and the tainted liquid inside it. We all knew what we wanted: our usual.
There was a handful of pretty young women working that afternoon, all of them had their tied up, slicked back, or carefully curled and held together with hairspray that sparkled. “Anna”, still facing the other way, had hair that was the colour of rich coffee with strands of caramel sifted throughout it. It fell nicely onto her shoulders, and barely covered the nape of her neck. A few brunette locks covered a small tattoo which was tucked beneath the scattered hem of her shirt. The dark hues of espresso and light caramel glimmered in the sun shining through a nearby window.
When Anna finally turned towards me though, I completely forgot about her hair.
She simply sked me if she could start me off with a drink, and I fumbled. No matter what bar top I’m seated at, my drink is always the same: vodka soda, two lime wedges and a lemon. But the minute Anna looked at me, I froze.
I was instantly lost in her eyes.
They were a crisp, sapphire colour. Pools of sparkling blue, fanned by full and sweeping eyelashes and a perfect dusting of black and brown shadows around them. They glistened, sparkling when she smiled.
“Can I get you a drink, new friend?”
I squeaked out my order, still absorbed by her beautiful eyes. She repeated it back to me, giving me a wink, while her tongue playfully slip between her teeth, before she moved onto a couple a few seats down. Her cheeks were a little rounder than the real Anna Kendrick, but delightful none-the-less. A dainty nose, cat-like eyes, and seemingly flawless and soft skin – everything was captivating and barely touched with makeup, except her lips that shimmered underneath a glaze of faint pink. When she walked away, I was left with a lingering scent of her perfume – something floral, but touched with musk to pair with her edgy style.
I studied her, as she danced around the bar making a drink for me and a few others. Believe me when I admit I wasn’t trying to be creepy. Really, it was impossible not to be completely intrigued by her; I couldn’t have been the only one.
She was wearing faded black jeans with holes in the knees, and they lightly wrapped around her long lean legs; tight, but not skin tight. The bottoms sat in rumpled cuffs above her worn out, bright green high tops. A small chain fell from her right front pocket to the back, which I later noticed was just a stylish way to keep her computer key from getting lost.
She wore a cropped black t-shirt that displayed a gold Wu-Tang “W” on the front. It sat crooked on her shoulders, allowing a sneak peak of her collarbone and mid drift. As she moved, the shirt shifted to expose a hint of a baby blue bra strap. Another tattoo peered out from underneath the hemline of her crop top – something elaborate and colourful.
And when Anna slid my vodka soda, completed with two limes wedges and one lemon wedge – as per my request – she winked again, pointing both her fingers in a friendly gun motion simultaneously. Her nails were covered in multi-coloured and chipped nail polish, one of her thumbs wrapped with a thick silver band. Another tattoo sat on inside of her right wrist; I think they were initials.
Anna danced around the bar afternoon, and I quietly watched her while I sipped my way through a few more vodka drinks and pretended to watch a baseball game on a screen above me. I felt like I was there for hours – I had nowhere special to be – and Anna’s groove never seemed to die down. Her hips continued to sway ever so slightly, whether she was standing still or moving along the bar to see if any of us needed another drink or basket of fries.
I’m willing to bet it’s that laid-back sexy style and sassy attitude that keeps those bar stools in an almost-unheard of small-town pub occupied. And, those brilliant, sharp blue eyes – that I hope I never forget.
But really, could I ever forget having the small-town twin of Anna Kendrick make me the drink – just the way I like it?
Never.
