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The Bar Logic

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She walked into the bar, briefly scanning the room. Through the flashing lights and half intoxicated patrons, she could tell the person she was meeting wasn't there yet. She swayed over to the bar, and ordered a Cosmopolitan. At home, she drank whiskey on the rocks. When she went out, she liked to switch it up. Try something with more flavor. Something she didn't have the ingredients to make herself. She paid for the drink, and turned around, leaning against the bar. She ran over the day in her head, wondering what she was even doing out. All she wanted to be doing was laying in bed, watching a movie and eating ice cream from the container. She really hated men. More so, her lack of luck with them. After the passing of who knows how many minutes, she decided to sit down. Her eyes kept scanning the room. But her friend was still no where in sight. She checked her phone for any messages, but there were none. She dialed the number, but the line just kept ringing. She hung up and put her phone down on the bar. She ordered another drink as she finished her first one. She took a deep breath, and looked around the room again. She noticed one guy one the dance floor. He was dressed in a polo shirt and torn jeans. His hair was gelled up, and he was wearing sunglasses on the top of his head. She shook her head, lightly laughing. There was a time she went to the bar every night. In her defense, she was never there with a reason. She liked watching people, and she sort of liked living vicariously through what she thought other people might be doing with their evenings. She partially thought that was the only reason she agreed to go out after the day she had. She checked her phone again, this time, looking only for the time. She had been sitting in the bar for almost an hour, and her second drink was already finished. She had been so lost in thought, she didn't even realize she had been stood up. She turned off her phone, and shoved it back in her purse. She debated just going home, but, she was already out. She ordered a Jack and coke from the bartender. She wasn't entirely surprised she had been stood up. In fact, she would have been more surprised if her friend had shown up. She hated friends. More so, her lack of luck with them. When the bartender brought her the drink, she ordered another, quickly finishing the one just handed to her.
“Is everything alright, Miss?” He asked, sounding concerned. He slightly leaned on the bar, putting his ear in better hearing. It was hard to think over the music, let alone make conversation. She knew he was being sympathetic because bartenders were the new barber, and he wanted to make a good tip. The only tip she could muster was along the lines of 'when someone pounds their drink, they're not looking to talk about their problems, they're looking to forget them'. But she decided saying that might come across as rude. So, she just shrugged instead.
“Just an increasingly bad day.” She dismissed, faking a smile. The bartender nodded, and walked away. She sipped at her drink, briefly looking back at Mr. Sunglasses. She wondered if that was her most interesting prospect for the night. Did she become one of those girls? She shook her head again, and looked down at the bar. She was startled a moment later by a familiar grip on her shoulder. Not one of the person she had intended to meet up with. But that of someone else entirely. Someone she couldn't have imagined meeting up with. She slowly turned to face him.
“Hello.” She greeted dismissively. He nodded, dropping down in the seat beside her. He spun the chair around completely. He looked at her drink, then at her.
“Bad day?” He asked, leaning against the bar. She shook her head, observing his position. Right now, he reminded her of Mr. Sunglasses, surveying the room for prospects.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, avoiding the question.
“I was, in the neighborhood. And you?” He offered, turning to face her. She shook her head yet again, looking back to the bar. She knew his hope for prospects didn't include her hard-luck story, and she wasn't dying to indulge in the self pity quite yet.
“Well, if you're at the bar alone, you're either meeting someone, or hoping to meet someone. Usually the latter.” He commented. She shrugged.
“Did you consider there may be more than two reasons to be in a bar alone?” She asked, briefly looking over. He continued scanning the room, tapping her shoulder. He motioned towards Mr. Sunglasses.
“I've noticed.” She dismissed. He laughed, shaking his head.
“Well, it doesn't matter what reason people think they're going to the bar. It really is only one of two reasons. So, which is it for you?” He asked again. She didn't answer. This apparently made him laugh.
“What are you laughing about?” She asked, looking over again. He shrugged.
“You're upset. Suggesting you're not meeting someone or the someone you're meeting didn't show. But you're dismissive, not answering questions, and looking at the bar, suggesting you don't have the interest in meeting anyone either.” He observed. She looked over at him, went to say something, but changed her mind. He wasn't exactly wrong in his evaluation. She shrugged again.
“Maybe I'm just here to see the sights.” She joked, motioning towards Mr. Sunglasses. He laughed.
“Oh, Houston, we have signs of life!” He declared, clapping his hands loudly. A few people in the bar turned to look at them. She shook her head, sinking slightly into her seat. She finished what was left of her drink, and motioned the bartender over to them. She ordered another.
“And for you?” The bartender asked in his direction.
“Jack on the rocks.” He ordered. The bartender nodded and walked away. He looked back at her.
“So, you're looking to meet someone then?” He accused. She half-laughed.
“Do I look like one of them to you?” She asked, motioning to a group of girls dancing together. He looked each of them up and down. She could tell he found his prospects. She sighed to herself and shook her head. He tapped her on the shoulder again, motioning back to the girls.
“Blondie's here to find a sugar daddy.” He joked. She looked over, looking Blondie up and down. She was wearing a short black dress, with diamonds clinging to the fabric. She on black heels, but they were low to the ground. Her hair was up in a sophisticated looking bun, with curls hanging out askew. She had a pink drink in one hand, and a diamond covered clutch in the other.
“How do you figure? She's got her own money.” She observed. He laughed.
“It's been a while since you went out, hasn't it?” He asked. She half-laughed.
“How long has it been since we last went out together?” She questioned. He nodded as the bartender came back with their drinks. He swirled his through the ice, and drank it down.
“It's been a while.” He confirmed, putting the ice filled glass down. She nodded.
“Anyways, no. She wants people to think she has her own money. She's carrying herself like she's sophisticated. But a sophisticated woman doesn't need to try so hard to catch a man's attention.” He observed. She raised her eyebrow, looking back at Blondie. She was scanning the room as she danced, and laughed with her friends. She looked back over at him.
“Wow.” She muttered. He laughed again.
“Human beings are very simple creatures to understand.” He added. She shook her head.
“Right.” She dismissed. He continued starting at the small group.
“That brunette was just dumped.” He observed. She raised her eyebrow looking over.
“What makes you think that?” She questioned. He was quiet for a minute.
“You can tell by the way she's dressed, she's here to get attention. At the same time, she's not willing to compromise herself. Her shoulders are straight, so normally she has confidence. She takes cares of herself, but she's letting loose. She's not looking for someone to make her feel special, she's looking for someone to help her forget the man who made her feel otherwise. She's trying to punish her ex by having a good time without him.” He explained. She watched the brunette dancing. Unlike Blondie, she wasn't looking around the room. She was just having a good time. She didn't seem to know the other girls, but she was determined to have fun. He was right.
“I envy and pity the guy who goes home with her.” He added. She shook her head. Right now, she wanted to be the brunette. But she knew she was closer to Blondie. She hated one night stands. Or at least her lack of luck with them.
“Right.” She muttered, more to herself and her evaluations. He laughed.
“I'd take the red head home.” He continued. She laughed.
“Of all of them, why would you pick her? She's probably the least interested. She's obviously the classiest. Her dress is the longest, and the only skin showing is when she turns too quickly and the slit up the leg pulls apart. She's not even here to meet someone. She's just here to keep Blondie from doing something stupid.” She rambled. He looked over at her.
“I wasn't talking about that red head.” He corrected, smirking at her. She sighed.
“Right. You're not my type, sweet heart.” She dismissed, pushing his shoulder lightly. He laughed.
“Yeah right. You've been thinking of me since I sat down.” He insisted. She raised her eyebrow.
“Oh I didn't miss this cocky attitude of yours.” She groaned. He kept laughing.
“But, I can tell you did. Or at least, you missed the cock part. It's been a while since you've had someone as good as me, I'm guessing.” He continued. She shook her head.
“Right.” She dismissed, looking back at the bar.
“Well, you can't have me either way. I like my women to be better conversationalists. Imagine. What would we have to talk about before, during, or after? You'd just lay there, like a working girl. Or if I remember you at all, more like a corpse. You're just as cold.” He rambled. She raised her eyebrow.
“Are you trying to piss me off?” She asked, putting her hand on her hip. He shrugged.
“That just depends on how you plan on working out that anger of yours.” He hinted. She went to say something, but as she did, the bartender came back over.
“Can I get you another?” The bartender asked him. She finished her drink and nodded. He smiled.
“Well, I'd like a Wild Redhead, but she's being difficult, so, yes, I'll have another Jack.” He ordered. The bartender shook his head and walked away. She slapped his shoulder.
“Fuck off.” She snapped. He laughed.
“So, let's try this again. What are you doing here on this lovely evening?” He asked. She scanned the bar again, looking from Blondie to Mr. Sunglasses, then back at him.
“Depends what you're doing here.” She challenged. He nodded, also looking around.
“I needed a change of scenery for the night. I came to live vicariously through the bar goes and intoxicated mistake makers.” He replied.
“So there are more than two reasons to go to the bar.” She corrected. He shrugged.
“I can't deny I wouldn't mind meeting someone.” He added. She shook her head.
“Of course.” She muttered. He laughed.
“There's that apparent jealous again.” He observed. She raised her eyebrow.
“Wait, aren't you married?” She asked. He shook his head.
“She left three months ago.” He answered, looking around again. She moved away slightly.
“I'm sorry to hear that.” She offered. He looked her up and down. Before he could say anything the bartender came back with their drinks. He nodded, tipping the glass, then pounding it back. He looked over at her, playing with the straw in her drink.
“You're nervous all of a sudden.” He observed moving closer to her. She raised her eyebrow, looking at him. She went to argue, but found herself tongue tied. He smiled, putting one of his hands on her thigh. She jumped in her seat. He moved his other hand to the back of her head and violently pulled her lips to his. She was hesitant at first, but it didn't last.
“Yeah, you still want me.” He asserted, moving back to his seat. She half smiled.
“You wish.” She muttered, downing half her drink. He laughed.
“Maybe.” He hinted. She abruptly looked over at him.
“What?” She stuttered. He pulled her lips to his again, but didn't kiss her. His lips just brushed hers, now trembling slightly. He softly kissed her, went to move back, then kissed her again. She moaned.
“Maybe.” She repeated, half dazed. He smiled, running his hand up her side, then down her arm.
“You never said why you're here.” He reminded. She shrugged.
“I was the former, now, I guess the latter.” She replied. He smirked, nodding slowly.
“Too bad there are no good prospects here tonight.” He joked, again motioning to Mr. Sunglasses. She laughed, shaking her head at him.
“Yeah. Too bad.” She agreed. He started laughing.
“I know a few good services you could call.” He joked. She shook her head, also laughing.
“You're the one who wanted the working girl, remember? Not me. But if you want to shell out cash, Blondie looks pretty easy.” She teased. He shook his head.
“I have a no pay for play policy.” He corrected. She smiled.
“Well I have a no pay no play policy.” She answered. He smirked, looking her up and down again.
“For this kind of merchandise, I'd be willing to make an exception. What do you charge?” He offered, running his hand up her side. He slid his arm around her waist, and practically pulled her out of her seat. He kissed her passionately as his other hand ran up her thigh.
“You apparently.” She tried joking. He pulled her completely out of her chair and stood up, pressing his body to hers. Her body tensed up against his. She wanted to pull back, but felt frozen. He slowly kissed her again. As he went to move back, she pulled his lips back to hers.
“Come home with me.” He propositioned. She bit her lip.
“I don't know... I...” She stalled. He forcefully kissed her again.
“Alright, I'll do this your way. What are the odds we'd meet tonight?” He asked. She shook her head.
“Astronomical.” She muttered. He nodded.
“Astronomical.” He repeated. She shook her head again.
“I still don't know.” She continued. He kissed her again.
“You still want me.” He smirked. She nodded.
“I never stopped. I can't even deny that.” She confessed. He wrapped her in his arms tightly.
“Then, come home with me.” He demanded. She laughed nervously.
“By your bar logic, am I the punishment to your ex?” She asked. He laughed, kissing her again.

“No, you're just the good time, without the bullshit.”

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