Randy snapped her fingers -- a tray appeared. Our waitress, Ginger a tall cool redhead, also tightly wrapped in sapphire satin, dealt three triple-ply coasters with the skill of a Monte Carlo croupier.
The paper goods were top shelf. Napkins, coasters, box matches -- all custom. Turquoise with silver embossed letters read 'The Modern Lounge', I palmed the matches and slid them into my pocket.
Ginger, our smokin' hot redhead, took a fast survey of the room, gave me a conspiratorial wink and replaced them.
"The usual." she said, more statement than question. She didn't wait for our order. The bartender was already putting the spears through our lime wedges.
My eyes followed gorgeous Ginger as she clicked away to fetch our drinks on sapphire satin spike heels. Of the half dozen spectacularly beautiful cocktail waitresses working the lounge, all satin, pointy toes, pearls and girdles, Ginger was the pick of the litter.
"Sapphire, tonic, extra lime" said Ginger leaning close to my ear ... she smelled like hot apple pie.
"Perfect" I said, staring directly at her perky, lightly freckled knockers standing proud of their satin drapery. Ginger stretched over me to serve Harleigh's and Mr. Lounge's cocktails(also Sapphire and Tonic with extra lime) giving me plenty of time to drink in her spice -- cinnamon with a top note of clove.
As she turned to go she mouthed the words "Call Me." I heard them viscerally, mostly in my gentleman's area.