Hold This For Me

The band is playing and the lights are flashing blue and purple. We are sitting at the bar and watching people, listening and having a few drinks.

We had come here for a drink because it looked like a quiet place to talk after dinner. We were walking down the Strip and just wandering in and out of places that looked fun. One of our favorite things to do in Vegas.

Apparently it was only quiet until the band started playing. The bass is rumbling the glasses on the bar and making the chairs vibrate. In a fun way.

The bartender is at the other end of the bar and has his back to us. No one else is sitting near us, drawn to the dance floor and stage by the beat of the music.

I reach back and unhook my bra and slip it off under my shirt. You turn back to me as I move, having been watching everyone dance for a moment. I smile and hand you my bra.

“I don’t have anywhere to put that since I didn’t bring my purse. You need to hold it for me,” I say and turn back to my drink. You sit there for a second, dumbfounded, trying to figure out where you can put this. Because, of course, it isn’t going to fit in your pocket.

I finish my drink and head to the bathroom. I come back a couple of minutes later with the matching underwear. “These too please.”

Those, at least, you figure you can shove in your pocket. And as you start to do that, I grab your hand and shake my head. “Hold them.”

I think it’s time to go walk the Strip a little more….