For a moment, I thought the question had come telepathically in answer to my thoughts. Then I realized there was a ghost hovering next to me, nearly translucent, but carrying a solid enough tray. I supposed it made sense. A ghost to pass ethereally through the crowds, and a solid tray to carry the drinks on. Maybe if other bars and restaurants used the same idea, service would be faster.
“Hi, Marley. I’ll have a Bloody Mary,” Cassandra said. “What do you want, Tiger?”
I’ll spare you the image which my mind came up with to associate with the name of her ordered drink. While I knew from my earlier visits that vampires don’t necessarily drink human blood exclusively, the idea of imbibing any kind of blood was pretty low on my list for taste treats.
“Urn . . . What all do they have?” I stalled. “I’m pretty much just used to wine.”
“Don’t worry, it’s a full service bar,” she informed me brightly. “They’ve got pretty much . . . Oh! I get it!”
She threw back her head and laughed, then gave my arm a playful slap.
“Don’t get uptight, Tiger. They do have drinks for off-worlders.”
Again I was relieved, but at the same time, I wasn’t wild about being laughed at. I seemed to be losing ground in the “impress your date” department.
“No, I’m serious, Cassandra.” I said. “I really don’t have much experience drinking except for wine.”
“Hey. No problem. I’ll order for you.”
That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but she had turned to our waiter before I could stop her.
“Bring him a Bloody Mary, too, Marley. A regular one, not the local version,” she said. “Oh, and we’ll be running a tab. Here’s his credit card so you can make an imprint.”