"I can't even taste the vodka in this!" I stared down my nose at the girl currently leaning across the sticky bar, chest first and with her lower lip stuck out. I knew where she was trying to draw my eye, but all I could focus on was how sticky her lip gloss looked. It was congealing on the corners of her lips like little pink colored boogers. "Can't you give me a little extra?" There was that classic flirty smile I had grown so used to seeing on women like her. I bet it worked on a lot of people, but something about it always made me feel a bit disgusted to be honest.
"I can, but I'm going to charge you for it. I put the amount of vodka I was supposed to in your drink." Her light blue eyes crinkle up and the flirty look disappeared. My eyes fixated on the way her foundation settled into her forehead lines when she made that, "I just smelled a fart" face that she's making at me now.
As I literally watched the realization dawn on her that she wasn't going to be able to flirt more liquor out of me, it became more and more clear to me exactly what kind of person she was. "Seriously?" She scoffed and turned on her heel, melting into the crowd of people with her appropriately mixed drink. At least she knew when to give up. A lof of the time the women tried two or three more times. I rolled my eyes a little at her attitude. The world is not your oyster, woman.
"You're cruel." My gaze flicked to my right, where my co-worker, Hart, was sneaking under my arm to steal limes from my side of the bar.
"Why am I forced to pay for your laziness?" I sighed as his dirty, bare hands dug into my already depleted bucket of sliced fruit. The way this club is set up, there's a giant circle shaped bar in the middle of everything on a raised platform with two different entries to two different sides of the bar. I worked one while someone else, usually the man currently stealing from me, worked the other.
"Because I'm forced to deal with the women you make cry." I scoffed again, watching as he backed away a little, his prize in hand. I looked down at him, glaring at the shit eating grin on his face. He had a fair point though. Hart is much softer with people than I am, he's accommodating to every silly whim they have, whether it be extra vodka in their drink for free, or access to his home and heart. He's soft. And it gets him hurt, over and over again. Still. I would have a lot more customer complaints against me if not for his wonderful diffusing abilities. I suppose the least I could do was let him get away with taking my garnishes now and then. "Just go away." I turned away from him, but not before seeing him salute me with his free hand. I rolled my eyes, returning my focus to the older pair of men standing at the bar now. "What can I get you?" I asked them in the same even tone I always use with customers.
This is what most of my nights consisted of. I worked in a bar downtown to pass my time and earn a living, and to keep me from going total hermit mode and locking myself in my house. It's fine, I guess. I made good money, especially in tips. Despite the fact that I am a little cold with people from time to time, there are a good number of women and men alike who don't seem to mind it at all. They melted at the disgusted glares I shot at them, no matter how much malice I laced in. Can't they see I genuinely found their affection for me disturbing? They don't know me. What if I'm a serial killer? What if I picked my nose and ate what came out? What if I'm a racist? I found it incredibly disturbing the amount of people who have tried to pick me up once I've gotten off work. I just don't crave that kind of affection that badly. I guess it's hard for me to understand how other people can. I get horny, I'm just a person, but I've never been so worked up that I've waited for some poor girl outside her job in the dark parking lot and told her we were born to be lovers. I've certainly had that happen to me, and I can tell you one thing for sure, it did not have the effect the woman was hoping for. I mean, think about if the roles were reversed. If I did that, I'd be behind bars and labeled a creep.
"Twenty bucks." I took the man's card from him and stuck it in the reader below the counter. "Thanks." I said once it's been approved. He nodded and took back his card. Him and his companion return to the crowd of people mushing together in the center of the room. A few of them were dancing to the loud music floating through the speakers, most were standing in clumps and talking. Honestly, I don't even know how they heard each other over the loud rap music constantly blaring in here. I didn't care for it, but Hart never let anyone else have control of the music when he was working. It is what it is; it's not like I have anything better to play anyways. "What can I get you?" I met the wide eyes of what looks like a freshly turned twenty-one-year-old girl. She was bouncing up and down a little, and had her ID clutched tightly to her chest.
"I would like a long island iced tea, please." She smiled and held her ID out to me. She had short black hair, cut in a bob with straight bangs that covered most of her forehead. Her eyes were dark and her skin pale. She wore a tight turtleneck and a skirt that stopped a couple inches above her knees. She was kind of cute, to be honest. Very pretty, and very out of place. She wasn't a regular, that much was clear to me. I think it's spring break; maybe she's an out of towner.
"Ah, happy birthday." Sure enough, she literally turned twenty-one thirty minutes ago at midnight. She smiled. There was nothing wrong with her smile, in fact it was pretty and sweet. But for some reason the sight of it made a bad feeling settle in my gut. Why did it look so familiar?
"Thanks." I held her ID back out to her between two fingers, scanning her up and down as I did. She blushed a little, and I deflated. Be more wary of me. You don't know me.
"Do you know what's in these?" I asked, grabbing a bottle of rum from behind me and a jigger from the tray under the counter as I began making her drink.
She shook her head. "It's just what my mom always used to order. I always wanted to try one when I was little." She shrugged a little. I laughed a little and her eyes darted away nervously. You should watch me make your drink, I thought to myself in frustration. What if I'm a bad person and take advantage of your naivety? I could easily put something in this. People are far too quick to trust. Bartenders aren't immune from being creeps.
"Well." I said as I set a tall glass on the counter in front of her, sticking a straw in and smiling a little. "These are quite strong. So be careful." She smiled back, took her drink, and left without looking at me again. I definitely made her nervous. Wasn't trying to. I watched her walk away, trying to push away the strange nagging feeling growing inside me. I shook my head, forcing myself to look away. Why was I worried about her? Wasn't like me at all.
Honestly, I think she just reminded me of someone.