A lively tune started, drowning out her words. Her nod was good enough, so I threw her a grin and stared through bottles and past faces to see the distant two-man band. It wasn’t a moment later that she came back and said, “Here ya go, honey,” and deposited my drink in front of me.
I patted the slide printouts and then sucked the tangy liquid. Not as strong as the last one.
That was definitely a good thing.
Time passed as I listened to the music and enjoyed the balmy night. My slides sat beside me, imploring me to go over them one more time. But just as I was about to reach for them, the guy on the right nudged me with his shoulder. I leaned away so he could get up then help his girl up.
A gaping hole had opened up beside me. Not two minutes later, I heard, “Hey.”
I sighed and slouched. Why me?
Or was he even talking to me? He was standing close, sure, but he could’ve been talking to anyone.
I glanced up and saw a mildly attractive man with a fuzzy beard. He nodded at me in greeting.
Fine. He was talking to me. But that didn’t mean anything. Jeez, Ms. Ego. Think the world wants into your skivvies?
“Hi,” I said with a tight smile, turning back. That was body language for, “I am being nice, but am happily antisocial.”
“So, do you hang out here a lot?”
Damn it.
“As much as possible,” I said flatly, hiding the sarcasm. “A real barfly, this girl. I love it.”
“Oh really, huh? Is the music that good?”
“Probably.”
“Yeah.” He glanced behind him before taking the seat next to me.
Knowing what that meant, I looked in that direction. Sure enough, there was a table full of snickering guys on the outskirts of the bar area.
So, this guy thought he was going to close the deal, did he? He was probably one of those jerks who thought a man had to overcome a woman’s social conditioning to “be a good girl” in order to get laid. After his conquest, he would blab about it to all his friends while I was slut-shamed.
I wished my friend Rebecca was with me. Oh the laughs we would have.
“What are you here for?” the guy asked.
“Well…” I shifted, as though uncomfortable. Acting like the Feds might be watching the conversation, I braced my hand near my mouth and said, “Truth be told, I deal crack. A lot of buyers in this neck. They pick up a rock and a handbag to store it in. Pipes are extra. You look like a college guy, right? Like to party?”
His chuckle was forced as he looked out through the bottles. “But really. You on vacation, or…”
“You caught me. Vacation, yes. I got a dose of the herp. It kinda ruined my day. But then they went away—dodged that bullet, am I right? Got rid of that. So I figured I’d take some time to celebrate. How about you?”
The bartender paused as she delivered the guy’s drink and then set the beer on the bar with a small smile. She was the only one who seemed to find humor in my absurdity. The guy on my other side, the one with the girlfriend, jerked and looked over before turning back to his woman without a word.
The guy hitting on me had a comical expression of disbelief, but his eyes were wary. Unlike the last guy, he obviously wasn’t used to crazy. And here it was, blasting him full-on.
Chuckles started to pop through my middle like kernels of corn. I couldn’t help it. Abject terror was bleeding through his cool-guy mask. He perched on the edge of his seat while he wrapped his fingers carefully around his beer, clearly not knowing if he should stay or go. Logic probably told him I was full of it, but he was after sex, and STDs were not sexy.
I shook as I clamped down on my laughter.
He licked his lips and then carefully stood and made his way to the other side of the stool. “Okay, then. Well, have a good night.”
“Yup. I sure will. It’s like a second chance.” I threw him a smile and a thumbs-up.
“I need to remember that one,” the bartender said, giving me a wink as she took his discarded bills and moved away.
I did, too. It had worked like a charm.
A moment later, another drink landed in front of me. “On the house,” the bartender said. “There are a lot of eligible bachelors here for a tech convention. It might be a long night.”
Didn’t I know it. I worked with a few of those bachelors. But I had imagination in plenty and lively music, so as long as the guys were reasonably harmless, it wasn’t too big of a deal. Almost a sport of absurdity, actually.
“Barkeep.” A booming voice beside me accompanied a lean against the back of the bar chair next to mine. “I need some beers over here.” He held up a fistful of ones and waved them at her.
He earned a flat-eyed glance before she moved away to help someone else. Being that the other bartender was on the opposite side of the alcohol island, this guy was shit outta luck.
He must’ve recognized it, because he sighed and then moved around to sit on the chair.
“What’s up?” he asked me, leaning heavily on the counter.