The Double Down

Gave myself a little writing assignment. I google random things and find a word or phrase then write a short story about it. This story is based off of the line “an intense stare.”

THE DOUBLE DOWN
by David Wilson

He called it doubling down. The act of flirting with your eyes. Making contact from across the room. Stealing a glance. Through all the drunken haze, dim lights, and foul breath. If you can cut through the thickness of it all and find the look you are after, double down. Put all your money on black. Don’t look away. That’s what everyone does. Get the glimpse they were after and let it go. They want to see if it comes back. They want to see the secondary level of interest. But doubling down means committing. Jumping in the water when you can’t swim.

He worked his sight across the ruby red room. To the fox in black. Through the bartender, past the bottles, across the counter, over the spill and up her neck, right to her… abort. Abort the double down. He’s been intercepted. Sabotaged. This isn’t the double down he wanted. The double down he planned for. They weren’t the big, beautiful eyes he wanted. There was no soul in these eyes. No lust. Just beady, bulging, bloodshot peepers. Staring back at him. Doubling down on him. His fingers like green beans, an adam’s apple the size of a pumpkin, and hair like a dirty dog’s fur. All he’s left with… is Beetlejuice. His awkward fidgets, nervous laughing, and wrenched walk.

He called it doubling down. The act of flirting with your eyes. Making contact from across the room. Stealing a glance. Beware the double down.

*Author’s note: The character Beetlejuice is real. I’ve provided evidence from my sketchbook below.

Beetlejuice

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