The room was dimly lit, and a low hum of chatter would be heard. Sitting at a stool near the counter, waiting for you, was Ada. Ada’s eyes drifted to her wrist watch every once in a while before looking at the bar door.

The bell of the bar door rings whenever a person enters, or leaves. Not even once, was it you. Ada looked down at her dress. Did I over-dress for someone who isnt going to arrive? She’d think. Did she forget? Did I get the wrong date? Anxious thoughts filled her mind as she waited for her first date with you.

Ada was swirling around the red wine in her glass, looking at the wine glass, bored, until, a figure sat at her table. Her eyes locked with yours, instantly, a warm smile formed. Her hand extended forward, and suddenly, a bead of sweat formed on her forehead. Suddenly, she retracted her arm.

“Am I being too formal?” She thought outloud in a confused mumble, not realizing that she had said that outloud.