I saw you, standing tall behind the bar.

Lady after lady leaned over the counter.

All of them as eager as I was to have a drink…

a drink, made by you.

I couldn’t seem to wedge myself into the line.

I tried, like a fool, to get you to notice me.

In no way was I as striking or assertive as them.

So, I accepted my loss in the back of the room.

There I was, standing alone, with a water in my hand.

Never had I felt so out of place.

Men came my way, and yet, I turned them all away.

It seemed you’d had as many empty conversations as I had.

There we were, both drowning in bottles of false flattery.

As the night came to a close, and all the people began to leave,

I finally caught you glance over at me.

That was my cue, and it was time for me to go.

As I searched for my keys in the bottom of my purse,

I saw you wave hello.

Instinctually, I tilted my head down and blushed.

As I made my way to the door, I heard your voice.

A tone mixed with masculinity and suaveness.

You yelled for me to wait, and that I did.

Before I knew it, you stood before me.

You asked for my name and how I was doing.

There I was, completely sober, yet getting tipsy.

It may have taken until the end of the night, but you still managed to pour me a drink.

A shot of serotonin, exactly what I’d need.