Girls' Night

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“We came for the pudding.” Maria said, smiling at the trim, brown-skinned bartender with a stubbly head and face.

 

Two men had moved aside so the four of us ladies dressed in white, could sit together. We just happened to all be wearing white, like a sorority or an ashram. It was a coincidence that excited us. And now, not only did we match with each other, but we matched the color scheme of the restaurant as well. Our group was made up of Mary, a blonde, blue-eyed lady who works at a summer arts camp in Ojai and wants to travel the world taking photos. She’s staying with Olissia. Olissia has delicate features and looks like a petite ballerina or a pixie. Her hair is long, brown, and straight with bangs. She has a European sounding accent and quick energy. I know her from different events, but we’ve never hung out before. The third lady is Maria. I’ve been close with Maria since the Autumn. She’s from Greece, laughs easily and loudly, and has voluminous dark brown hair. It was a spontaneous plan to meet up that evening, smaller plans converging into one.

 

We were sitting on tall, blocky wooden bar stools with tops upholstered in yellow twine. Above us hung pendant lamps of woven straw with frayed edges, giving low, orange light. A stray quarter on the bar top gleamed. It was my third time at this restaurant. The first was one of the few times my ex took me out on a proper date in which he paid for the meal, the second, was last week with Maria, when we discovered the vegan chocolate pudding, and the third time was tonight. We had all just eaten across the street at Café Gratitude. My meal had been rich, sticky, and sweet. I didn’t need dessert but they wanted it, and for some reason I mentioned the pudding. Everyone had jumped on the idea. I guess I wanted it too. Chocolate is addictive and I had been hooked back in recently.

 

Pretty much every table in the restaurant was occupied. The low lighting and boho-beachy décor made everyone seem the same. But I’m sure if we took that all away we would realize that the guests of the restaurant were actually not all young, trendy, couples with sun-bleached hair and an even tan.

 

I think the bartender was surprised by our request. Instead of drinks, two puddings to split. “That’s cute.” He smiled to as he put ice into a glass.