The Boys of Summer - Part III

Summer is long gone, but here is the last installment of “Boys of Summer” to bring a little heat. :) While there were quite a few other runners up for the title “Boy of Summer,” I will conclude with this one. Not everyone can be a star. Enjoy!

August in the city is hot. However, it is the perfect excuse to wear a dress. So I threw on my new favorite island-y blue dress and was on my way to enjoy my last, luxurious day off. After taking Pilates and browsing in Sephora, me and my dress strolled up Broadway on our way to meet a friend for my last summer Happy Hour.

On a day like this, it was no surprise that a crowd had formed and a line had started outside the doorway of this after-work hot spot. I quickly found my friend and we exchanged greetings and commentary on the past 18 hours since we last spoke. As I tugged at my dress, which was now sticking to my legs, I eagerly anticipated my first frosty drink and the imminent breeze we’d be sure to feel on the rooftop.

Before long, we crossed over the threshold and rode the elevator to the top of the building. We emerged into open space of the rooftop crowded with bodies already starting their weekend of fun. We found our way through the crowd and finally found a spot at the bar. I quickly chose my summer favorite – the mojito. With the first mint-tinged sip, I soaked in the moment. The warm, summer sun shone brightly as beads of water slipped down the glass. Crowds of beautiful people mixed and mingled. Young professionals schmoozed with clients or rehashed their days with colleagues or friends. Barely legal, overdressed interns pranced around as if it was Prom ’03. Balding businessmen attempted to flirt with a few interns before their before-midnight train back to Long Island. My friend and I scoped the scene as we chatted about our day, our drama. Soon, we found ourselves engaged in causal banter with random guys in suits and ties. And soon after that, their friends with gold bands around their fingers. And that was our cue to migrate to a new area and get a new drink.

As we settled in a new spot, I first spotted, “pink shirt guy,” a beautiful specimen of a man who I was determined to keep my eye on. I quickly alerted my friend to my new prospect as we watched him approach his friends who were standing in our vicinity. Eventually, he made casual conversation with us and I was ecstatic. In the conversation, I discovered he was actively schmoozing so he had to return, but he promised he’d be back and that if I was still there, he’d buy me a drink.

So off he went, but I kept him within viewing distance. As daylight faded into dusk, the sky shifted from its clear blue to a lovely hue of purples and oranges which cast its glow on the Empire State Building – a perfect backdrop for our typical night on the town. Within the hour, I saw an opportunity to create a situation with “Pink Shirt.” A friend of my friend had just joined us, so I was free to excuse myself.

As “Pink Shirt” made his way back to the bar, I decided it was the time to refill my glass as well and found myself standing right behind him. A crowd quickly formed behind me as others seemed to have the same idea. “Pink Shirt” happened to turn around and recognized me from our interaction earlier in the evening. He greeted me and asked what I wanted. We continued our casual conversation exchanging the basics while we waited for our drinks.

Meanwhile, the two guys behind me were expressed their impatience at the wait. As I turned around, “24” commented, “Well, maybe if he wasn’t spending his time flirting with you, maybe he could get his drink and then we could get ours” in reference to “Pink Shirt.” Points awarded for humor. “Pink Shirt,” still engaged in schmoozing clients, handed me my drink and said he would look for me later in the evening. However, “24” had other ideas as he and his partner in crime squeezed into the bar and ordered their drinks.

I initially piqued his interest by being the girl who he never expected me to be – a girl who can shoot whiskey! From there, he acquired the rest of my story. He was enthralled with the fact that I was a math teacher and was eager to prove his math knowledge to me. He had me at 7/8! Then, I acquired his particulars. Including his age, a few years my junior. But age ain’t nothin’ but a number and after a few witty comments, we moved on.

My friend joined us and we continued our conversation. Within minutes, as it usually occurs, talking turned into flirting and the friend, knowing his role, made his exit. A little while later, “24” wanted to show me where he lived. My friend, being a good friend, questioned this motive. But “24” alleviated her worries as he let her know that we didn’t need to leave the rooftop. In other words, he wanted to show me the view of his apartment building from the other side of the bar. So we found a cozy spot in the dark corner of the bar and pointed out his place. We found seats and lingered in the desolate area alone. Conversation interspersed with innocent kisses. Before long, he had to leave and I had to rejoin my friend. As we said our goodbyes, it realized it was only midnight, and my quintessential summer night had just begun.