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Post by Annabel DuPont on Oct 18, 2013 20:29:20 GMT -5
Anna sighed as she wiped down the bar for the umpteenth time this evening. If there was one thing she was grateful for, as far as this job was concerned, it was the thick wooden surface that separated her from the rest of the club. She was relieved she wasn't given the occupation of Shot Girl when the owner agreed to hire her; he'd tried, but the second she recited the proper way to make a Sex on the Beach, a Lemon Drop and Sex With An Alligator perfectly, he immediately decided she would be perfect for the vacant bartending position. The other workers had placed bets as soon as she arrived for her first shift, none guessing that she would last longer than two weeks. But she'd beaten them all; two months and counting so far, and she wasn't planning on quitting anytime soon. She needed the money too much.
"Hey, sugar, can I get an Alabama Slammer?"
Anna nodded her head. "Comin' right up, Sweetie," she said, finishing the drink before she'd finished the sentence. She handed the drink to Joe, winking at him as he placed a five in her lucky tip jar by the register. He was a regular customer, and one of her favorites. He was a sweetheart, in his mid-fifties, and was always there to ward off the perverts when she needed a break. People like Joe were like Waldo; very rare and difficult to come by.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as a few college kids tossed their glasses carelessly onto the bar before they made their way to the dance floor. She picked them up and placed them in the sink below the bar, rinsing them quickly before handing them off to a barback to clean them more thoroughly. "Two hours down, six more to go," she muttered.
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Post by Scott Ramirez on Oct 18, 2013 20:54:15 GMT -5
Why not step outside my comfort zone? Why not try and.. get back out there again? Well, I certainly wasn't going to go that far, but I would at least go out to Melee's, make an appearance- why not? Its not like it would kill me.. at least I hoped not.
This kind of thinking was what had brought me to the bar, and I push open the door, a little bell tinkling above me as I run a hand through my black hair, dark brown eyes glancing around uncertainly. I walk over to plop down in a booth in the corner, not sure what to do. I didn't really drink much.
I sigh, now wishing that I'd just stayed home- maybe that would be better. Besides, I had tests to grade.. for the third time.
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Post by Annabel DuPont on Oct 18, 2013 21:12:54 GMT -5
The barback came back with the freshly washed glasses, carelessly setting them aside with the other glasses that had yet to be used. Anna pursed her lips, but didn't let her annoyance show beyond that. She found a dry rag and began to wipe down each individual glass. You have no idea how bitchy a customer can get when they spot a water stain on their glass.
Anna glanced up as the little bell above the doorway to the bar rang, only able to notice the tattooed arms due to the dim lighting throughout the building. She put the glasses down and served a cluster of Frat guys a round of Jager Bombs before turning to the stranger in the corner booth. "Anything I can get you, Sweetie?" She asked, having to raise her voice in order to avoid being drowned out by the noise emitted from the group she'd just served as their favorite team scored a touchdown on the big screen.
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Post by Scott Ramirez on Oct 18, 2013 21:23:24 GMT -5
I'd pulled out my mini notepad and had jotted down a few ideas I'd already gotten just from walking in. Drunk college kids with something to hide from each other- each with a separate secret life. Middle aged men drowning their sorrows, hoping to get away from their nagging wives. Old bikers trying to act as if they were still in their prime. I'm so intent on my scribbles that I don't notice someone coming over before a familiar voice reaches my ears.
"Oh, uh.. could I just get a soda?" I ask absently, pausing to run a thoughtful hand over my face before glancing up for my eyes to rest on Anna.
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Post by Annabel DuPont on Oct 18, 2013 21:45:37 GMT -5
Anna smiled at the sight of a notebook and his hand scribbling across the open pages. Perhaps he was a musician, someone who enjoyed writing songs and could only do so when surrounded by the chaos that is the bar scene. But the sound of his voice made her freeze, and she sputtered a surprised, "Mr. R?"
She took in his appearance with a new perspective. The tattoos, the casual appearance. It was a strange thing to absorb. But, then again, he was a teacher. People don't expect teacher's to be sporting tattoos or wearing t-shirts, let alone sitting in a bar. Then again, she gave him the suggestion, didn't she? "I see you took my advice after all, huh?" Anna chuckled.
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Post by Scott Ramirez on Oct 18, 2013 21:58:37 GMT -5
It was a bit of a shock to see her here, she was younger than twenty one. "The one and only." I reply, shrugging my shoulders as I twirl my pen between my fingers. I click it back and set it down, leaning back in the booth casually.
"Perhaps." I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders with a grin. "You work here?" I add curiously, noticing her dress and heels. "Or you could just be sneaking in here with a fake ID.. but I highly doubt it." I snicker, looking up at Anna from my seat.
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Post by Annabel DuPont on Oct 18, 2013 22:07:44 GMT -5
Anna laughed. "Yeah, I work here," she said, "I'm actually a bartender. I can't stay on this side of the bar for too long, though. Would you mind coming over to the bar? I can pull up a stool for you, if you need it, and I'll make sure those guys don't bother you while you write." She gestured toward the Frat guys, who began to bang their fists on the bar and chant "Shots, shots, shots, shots!" while staring at her expectantly. One would think they would go to another bartender, but no; she was special. "Nice tats, by the way. Where did you get them done?"
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Post by Scott Ramirez on Oct 18, 2013 22:15:47 GMT -5
"I'm just jotting down little ideas." I reply, shrugging my shoulders before sliding out of the booth and getting to my feet. It felt weird to be wearing what I used to before I got so.. obsessed with my job -skinny jeans, a black tank top, and red Vans- but, it felt good at the same time. It was.. comfortable.
"I got them done at a little shop that closed a year or two ago- not much business here." I say, following Anna over to the bar. I roll my eyes at the college boys, shaking my head a bit.
"Why do you work here? Surely you could get a job somewhere more.. I don't know, cleaner. Less smoky." I ask, plopping down on a stool and setting my pen and pad on the counter.
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Post by Annabel DuPont on Oct 18, 2013 22:38:51 GMT -5
"Well, you probably should have brought more than one notebook," Anna said, "Wait until it gets busy in here; you'll have hundreds of ideas by the end of the night." Lord knows she'd written dozens of short stories based on what she'd seen in this bar. She even had a novel or two in the works that had started as short stories and just...took off from there.
Anna made her way behind the bar and narrowed her eyes at the rowdy bunch in front of her. "You don't have to act like cavemen to get my attention, you know," she teased, setting five shot glasses in a row across the bar. "What do you want?" "Georgia Peach!" one of them shouted. Anna laughed and prepared their shots. "How many times do I have to remind y'all that I'm from Texas, not Georgia?" She passed them their shots and grinned when they paid for their shots and each placed a dollar in her tip jar. "Aw, thanks, fellas," she said.
Anna smiled and stared at the intricate designs penned into his skin. "You know, I never pegged you as a guy with ink. But somehow, I'm not really surprised."
Anna took back the shot glasses from the Frat guys and handed them off to the barback to wash. She quickly gave the guys a beer each and thanked them when they handed her a credit card to keep until they left. She quickly opened up their tab and turned back to Mr. Ramirez. "You'd actually be surprised how much money I can make in one night working here," she said, "I work here because I don't want to have to rely on student loans when I go to college. After all, scholarships aren't a guaranteed thing until you've gotten that congratulatory call. I make a couple hundred a night here on tips alone, and I only work three days a week. And I know how to handle drunk people, so it's kind of an ideal job for me." Anna's smiled falsely at her teacher, remembering the harsh words those girls in her class had said about her and her father on Monday. She blinked a few times to shake off the memory and leaned forward, resting her hands on the bar right in front of Mr. R, not noticing that the front of her top hung loosely, revealing a bit of cleavage. "So, like I said before: Anything I can get you, hun?"
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Post by Scott Ramirez on Oct 18, 2013 22:58:10 GMT -5
"Yeah? Well, let's hope I don't forget them before I get home." I chuckle, clicking my pen before setting it down again. I knew that some people found it annoying and I didn't want to be. I flip open my pad, dark brown eyes skimming over my chicken scratch writing for a moment. I write a few more ideas before setting it down, chuckling softly as Anna commented on my tattoos.
"They're just flowers.. not the most manly thing to get on your upper arm permanently." I reply, looking at my own arm. "But the flowers do have human hearts as the center, so maybe that adds a bit of badass-ness to them.." I add, not even noticing that I'd cussed. "And my wrist.." I add softly, holding it out so that Anna could read it. I'd gotten it on my first wedding anniversary.. if only I'd known that we wouldn't make it to the second.
I force away the frown that threatens at the edges of my face and set my elbows on the counter, plopping my chin into my palms. "Wow." I raise my eyebrows, letting out a whistle between my teeth. "Teachers don't make much, but it pays the bills and buys food." I continue, cocking my head to the side as my dark brown eyes rove around Melee's. A few more people had come in since I'd sat down up here, but no one I knew. "Just a soda? I don't really drink.." I ask, a blush crossing my face as I raise my eyes back up to Anna's face. What the hell was I doing?
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Post by Annabel DuPont on Oct 19, 2013 10:55:40 GMT -5
Anna couldn't help but guffaw. "Trust me, you won't forget any of this tonight. Possibly ever," she added as an afterthought. It's amazing what one could see and experience simply from observing inebriated jackasses for a single night.
"Yeah, the hearts add a lot of badass-ness to the tattoo as a whole," she nodded, smirking at how strange it was to hear her teacher cuss. She smiled at the tattoo on his wrist, and reached out to touch the words imprinted on his flesh before she could stop herself. "That's really sweet. When did you get it?"
Anna nodded, turning toward the bar to get Mr. R his soda. "Any particular preference?" she asked, "We have Coke, Sprite, Dr. Pepper, Cranberry juice, Pineapple, Orange... The list goes on, really." She blushed in embarrassment. Why was that she always rambled when he was around? They weren't even in class anymore, so it made no sense why she would continue to ramble now.
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Post by Scott Ramirez on Oct 19, 2013 14:07:46 GMT -5
"I tend to have a pretty good memory." I agree, nodding a bit as I bounce my pen onto my thumb nail. I glance around for a moment, wondering if anymore ideas would jump out at me.
"Dr. Pepper, Sprite is nasty." I reply, grinning at Anna for a moment. It was strange, how at ease I was when just minutes before I'd wanted to sink into a whole and disappear. "How much? It'll probably hold me until I leave, I take little sips." I explain, shrugging as I slide off my stool to pull my wallet out of my back pocket.
I don't pay any attention to the tinkling of the front door bell, instead watching as her fingers danced over my skin. "And, uh, its a forest of flowers, so that might help." I add, shrugging a bit before looking down at my feet. "I... I got it on my first wedding anniversary." I mumble, pulling my wrist back and dropping it into my lap.
"Scott, still obsessing over that?" a horribly familiar voice asks and I look over to see Pamela curved into the side of a tall brunette. My face falls and I don't reply, staring at her. "What? No hugs? I thought you.. what was the term you used? Oh, yes, you said you loved me." she continues, snickering as she looked over at me. "I did." I reply simply, feeling my face redden. "You're such a hopeless romantic, Scott, emphasis on the hopeless. You always made up these fantasy worlds that you lived in, in your stories, and you were blind to reality." Pam continues and I feel tears well up in my eyes and I slide off the stool to race towards the front door.
I push it open and run down the sidewalk to my silver trailblazer, digging my keys out of my pocket. I stop at the door, sniffling as I angrily wipe at the tears falling down my face. I huff and lift up the tail of my tank top to wipe at my eyes better, a sob escaping me.
pamela; click
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Post by Annabel DuPont on Oct 19, 2013 15:48:58 GMT -5
Anna smiled and made Mr. Ramirez his drink. "A man after my own heart," she said, "Did you know that Dr. Pepper was actually invented in Texas?" She shook her head. "Don't worry about it; it's on the house.
Anna pulled her hand back at the news that it had been for his wife. She hadn't even known that he was married. Her eyes widened at the appearance of the strange blonde woman hanging on the arm of another man. She smiled at the woman as her teacher ran out the door, made her the worst-tasting drink she could think of, and gave it to her "on the house". She looked at the barback and said, "Watch the bar; I'll be back in a minute," and ran out the door after Mr. Ramirez.
"Mr. R!" she shouted, running down the sidewalk to meet him by his car. Anna heard a sniffle, and saw him lift the hem of his tank top to wipe at his face. "Hey, are you okay?"
[[OOC: Sorry, it's short. My step-nephew came over about an hour ago and I haven't had much time to write lol]]
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Post by Scott Ramirez on Oct 19, 2013 16:02:06 GMT -5
"Damnit." I growl, putting my arms up on the window of my car as I lean against it. I should've known that something like this would happen. I should've known not to leave the house. Never again. "I.. I. I'm fine." I say shakily, not moving from where I was. I most certainly wasn't fine. I hadn't seen Pamela since the divorce, and seeing her with some other guy didn't help matters. It didn't help my reaction.
"You.. you should go. I'll see you tomorrow." I continue, not looking at Anna as I straighten up and run my hands over my tear stained face, mentally praying that she would. I'd be fine, just like I always was.
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Post by Annabel DuPont on Oct 19, 2013 16:46:52 GMT -5
Anna frowned. "No, you're not fine, hun," she said. She leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on Mr. Ramirez's shoulder. "Who was that?"
Anna resisted the urge to grown in frustration at the man. "I'm not goin' anywhere," she said. "I'm not the kind of person that leaves someone to their misery when they're feeling down. And I'm the teacher's pet, after all," she muttered, "It's my job to make sure you're day looks better by the time I leave your presence."
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