Haven't I Seen You Before? by Dan Bieger

(4 ratings) Rate this Story (5 best) 1 2 3 4 5

SUMMARY: August flash fiction entry

When you walk into a bar named Cicero's Pad and Pen, you should expect something out of the ordinary. She told herself that was precisely why she had gone in but, now, she was having second thoughts. She looked at the grasshopper in the martini glass still resting on the napkin untouched and tried again to understand what the guys on either side of her were saying.

On the left, she heard a pleasant baritone murmuring; "Te laesisti ubi de olympo cecidisti?" while in the right ear a more soothing bass insisted: "fatum est!" and her brain seemed intent on correlating how falling from Olympus can be fated. Certainly she grasped the fact that both were attempting to seduce her, the blonde on her left and the dark bearded one her right. Both new to her yet both known from ages and ages past. Was it really all her life that had gone like this? Why had she not murdered Ovid when she had the chance?

Turning to her left, she asked the blonde: "what's your name again?" striving mightily to ignore the incessant crooning on her right.

"Nomen meum? Mei amici me Adonis nominant."

"Can you drop the Latin, and um, did you say Adonis?"

"I did say Adonis," the blonde replied.

On her right Blue Beard murmured "Mei amici me Dionysus."

Her head snapped around to Blue Beard, fire in her eyes, fire in the question: "Then why Latin and not Greek?"
His head abruptly jerked backward away from her attack. "Hey, wait a minute, now. You didn't object to blondie using Latin and he's no more Roman than I am."

His reply turned her back to the blonde: "Say, that's right. Why ARE you using Latin?"

"Because Ovid made me a Roman," the blonde said, his face blushing slightly at the admission.

To her herself, she muttered: See? I should have murdered the old bastard! While she engaged in such recrimination, the basso profundo on her right observed: "Since you are not doing any damage to the grasshopper, may I suggest a Garnacha Noir?" His right left hand moved the green concoction to his own right where no one sat while his left hand summoned the bartender. Rather than protest his action, she found herself distracted by the offer. "Is that one of those wines from Samos?" she asked. "Or, no, since you're offering, it must be from Hios or Thassos, right?"

"Ah, you offend me, my dear. No, this wine I'm about to introduce you to is from Spain, Priorat to be exact. Tasting it you will discover a cherry flavor, very round, great character."

From the other side came a not unexpected protest. "Hey, don't pay attention to the wannabe snob; Garnacha Noir, indeed! Look, now, and I will be you deer."
"My dear? I asked you to be my dear?"

"Nay, fair maid, I just remember that once you so invited me, to be your deer."

She reached across the dark bearded one, retrieved her drink and downed a half. During the drink, her mind raced over the blonde's words. She'd invited him? When? Why? And why did she not remember?

"Are you certain you do not have me confused," she started but Blue Beard finished for her: "with someone who gives a damn? Go away, boy, and leave these matters to your better."

"His better?" she turned on Blue Beard, much to the blonde's delight.