Convention

“I shouldn’t have another one,” Frank said. “I promised my wife.”

“These are small,” Mandy said. “And they’re weak.”

“They don’t seem weak to me,” Frank said. “The first one is going right to my head.”

A waitress appeared at his elbow with a second drink for each of them.

Frank looked around himself.

“I’ve never been in a bar this dark,” he said.

“It’s not a bar. It’s a cocktail lounge,” Mandy said.

“How do you know all this?” Frank said. “You look younger than my daughter. You look so innocent.”

“I am innocent,” Mandy said.

The two of them were wearing their convention badges.

“I feel innocent,” Frank said, but he wasn’t having innocent thoughts. “This is my first convention.”

“The boys tell you about the hundred-mile rule?”

“My goodness,” Frank said. “You don’t know about that, do you?”

Mandy smiled.

“It’s my  first convention too,” she said, leaning forward.

Frank tried to keep his eyes up. She didn’t look so innocent, leaning forward.

“It’s a nice hotel,” Frank said. He put his glass down, glanced at it, and was amazed to see it almost empty. The waitress returned.

“It is a nice hotel,” Mandy said. “I love my room…”

“Look, Mandy,” Frank said. Suddenly he was sweating. “Would you like to, do you want to… Listen, you have to be careful, you know, a kid like you.”

Mandy smiled.

“You remind me of my first husband,” she said. “He was such a country mouse.”

“Your first husband?”

“He never had a clue, if you know what I mean. My second husband, he knew. He knew and he hated it. Now when my boyfriend gets nosy, I tell him to mind his own business. I told him that before I came down here. Artie, I said, I’m going to Indianapolis by myself. It’s my first company convention. What I do there is my business. Like it or lump it.”

A third drink appeared in front of Frank.

“Drink up,” Mandy said. “We’re here to have fun.”