Roaring the 1920's

     Rain splattered on my red polka dotted umbrella as I tip toed my way around muddy puddles and water filled pot holes. The raindrops corrining down the ends of my umbrella begged me to catch them before falling onto the gravel beneath me.
   
    Thunder sent its revenge within the heavens, sending lightening through the silver clouds that starved for the suns illuminations. I see you sitting. Your legs crossed.  You were wearing your notorius baggy wide-legged trousers , one of your simpler suits with just slim, unpadded jackets over your creased trousers.  Those two-toned shoes, which you have shined every morning.  Your bowler laid upside down on table set for two, a glass of hootch on the rocks.  The newspaper was folded patiently on the edge of the table, awaiting your beautiful eyes to skim it's pages. You were swell I tell ya. The cat's pajamas.
 
    I couldn't get to you fast enough.  I clutched my cloche hat as the wind whirled around me teasing the ends of my flapper dress.    The streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of business and pleasure.  We were young  women rebelling against the old matriarchs and wore our hair short and hiked up our hem lines.  We painted our faces in the spirit of our new found freedom sparked by economic wealth and new political rights.  Finding you was the bees knees.
   

  You adjusted your cheaters as I approached you.  You were fried to the hat sittin there all swanky.   The first thing that came out of your kisser was "Cash or check baby?"  I looked at your ossified face and replied " Sorry Mac, banks closed.  Check me later when your not actin a drunken  fool".  You were a smooth fellow.  Making me fall in love with you.  You hard boiled son of a gun.
 
     I set my gold mesh rhinestone clutch on the table. My red lipstick stained the rim of your glass as I s
  wigged down the rest of your drink.  You pulled my chair out for me and asked me to share your company.  You ordered another hair of the dog and  You glared at my gams, crossed beside the table.  I drank my cup of joe as you clutched my hands while Wall Street crashed behind us. You didn't have to say anything to me.  Anything. 


This was just a few little snippets of information my great grandmother told me when she was dating the love of her life.  I was little, I don't remember much.  All I remember is that her eyes lit up as she told me of a day at the cafe with him.   Love.