i don't drink anymore

I don't drink, she tells
you on the phone,
I'm in AA now.
I hope that doesn't
bother you. I mean if
you don't want to go
out with me, i'll
completely understand.
you stare at the picture
that she just sent
of herself
standing on the shore
in a bikini,
with a big trout
in her hand. she's
wearing shorts and her
long legs are tanned.
no problem, you tell her.
I want to meet you.
so you meet at a local
Chinese restaurant.
both of you order
too much food. she tells
you again that she doesn't
drink, but go ahead
and have whatever your
having, I won't mind.
so you order a mai tai,
your usual drink.
sickly sweet and thick
with rum. slices
of fruits dangle under
a little pink umbrella.
it goes down easy, as you
talk and eat. she can't
take her eyes off the drink
though, let me smell
it she says, I don't want
even a sip, I just want
to smell it. sure you
tell her, and hold it
up to her nose. whew.
she says. it makes me
nervous. none for you, you
say teasingly, finishing
it off as you take a bite
of crispy beef and rice.
she drinks her water and
eats. she gets quiet.
too quiet. she's stopped
talking about her life.
everything is on hold as
you order another mai tai.
you don't mind do, you ask,
as the waitress brings
it to the table.
no, not at all she says,
twisting in her seat. fiddling
with her chopsticks.
you eat and drink. she says
nothing. finally, you ask her
if she's okay. no, she says.
I'm not. I think I need to go
to a meeting. I want you to
come with me. but why, you
ask, sucking down more
rum with a straw. I don't have
a drinking problem. but I
do, she says. I'm too tempted.
there is a meeting around
the corner around here.
come with me. you say no.
it's not for you. she says
they have great desserts.
cake and cookies, delicious
pies and pastries.
you shake your head. that's
my downfall. i'll be lying
in the gutter with chocolate
on my face if I go there.
so she gives up on the meeting
and comes back to your house.
compromising. both of you
having what you probably
shouldn't have.