My friends and I are in an on-again/off-again writing club where the rules are simple. Every two weeks you have to submit three short stories that it took you 20 minutes or less to write. These are the results.

Ms. Lindstrom’s Always on a Roll!

Even if we tried, we couldn’t have missed you. We watched you swerve past our circle booth at the back of the bar, you giant self-bemused smile perfectly complementing your blonde hair, petite body, black pants and referee striped jacket, as you made your way to the bathroom. We assumed that toilet would be your final destination, but were amazed to see you minutes later stumbling your way back to your barstool.

It would have been a sad scene watching you get lost on your way back to your seat, but when you sat next to me after giving up on your geographical challenge and asked us all what our deal was, we couldn’t have been happier. We had trouble understanding you at first – a little bit due to your Swedish heritage, a lot bit due to your wine-slurred tongue – but your seated, interpretive, arm-waving dance of the next three songs on the jukebox won our hearts over.

Then you noticed my sweatshirt, and how I too was wearing stripes. You looked into my eyes and told me I had a nice smile, then made out with my ear for the next five minutes while whispering marriage proposals. My friends across the table took our wedding photos while you impressed us with your ability to put your feet behind your head.

I didn’t get mad at you when you guzzled my drink when I turned my head, but I had to say something when you put your arms around someone else. Then you turned to me, held my face in your hands, and said with utmost sincerity, “You know who I am, and you know I’ll always be there for you. Whenever you need me, look to the sky and call my name, and I’ll be there.”

We all applauded your speech, and you let loose that amazing smile once more. Then you took off your shoe, put it on the table, and used it to store your cracked peanut shells. For minutes we sat in the rapture of your presence. You, sensing the silence, lifted your arms and proudly declared, “I’m always on a roll!” Then immediately fell asleep.

We had a few more drinks without you (forgive us), and were getting ready to go, but we couldn’t bear to leave you alone. I went over to wake you up, and you put your arms around me and danced with me. I dipped you out the door and hailed a cab, noting that your name was Lindstrom and we were dancing to the lindy. You laughed about that the entire ride back to your place.

I brought you into your building and put you in the elevator, and you thanked me by jumping onto me and kissing me with all the passion and tongue you had. I put you down and said goodnight, and it pained me to look into your suddenly sad eyes, and answer your question of, “What?”

“I’m not coming home with you, Ms. Lindstrom,” I said. “But like you would do for me, if you need me, look to the sky and I’ll be there.”

“Except tonight!” You yelled as I walked away and the elevator doors closed.

It was the best relationship I’d had in years.