“Oh, there ya are!” A voice calls out to him, and he looks up. He doesn’t want to deal with drunken, giggly girls tonight. He sighs tiredly, sincerely hoping his company arrives before one of them dares to approach and ask for his number while they have the liquid courage to do so. Glancing down at his phone, he tries to ignore the gaggle of girls ogling him over their drinks.
He has a perfectly good alcohol shelf at home, and even better company, one he prefers much more than this loud bar. He isn’t particularly pleased about it though, considering he has much better ways he could be spending his Wednesday night. He hasn’t the slightest clue, but he asked to show and he has. He stares down at the brown liquor in his glass, eyeing it as if it’d have the answers he’s looking for.
Most are sitting at the bar though, unlike him. There are only a handful of people sitting alone like he is. Most of the patrons are young adults, groups of girls out and about for a girl’s night, and others are older, most likely here for the game. Cautiously, his eyes trail around the room, taking everyone in. He doesn’t particularly care for all of the noise of this place, but at least they have decent drinks. Sighing, he brings his glass to his lips and takes a sip. His lips curl in distaste as one of the men loudly cheers again. Their eyes are glued to the television screens lined nearby the counter, where some kind of sport game seems to be playing. A few men sit there dressed in jerseys, beers in their hands. He’s sitting at a table a bit away from the chaos of the bar patrons, having found a spot tucked into the corner of the building.Ī sudden shout of excitement draws his attention, eyes darting over to the counter of the bar. Someone sits by himself, hand curled around a glass of rum. Tables are spread out across the floor, some filled and one or two sit empty. Music blasts through the speakers, forcing people to yell over to friends they sit across from. Two bartenders stand behind the counter, pouring and mixing drinks for paying customers. There’s a sign hanging off of one of the walls, outlined in red LEDS, BEST. Patrons sit on the stools, varying types of drinks in their hands. The counter top itself is a dark wood, almost black in the dim lighting. Most are provided by the shelves of liquor and the lights hanging above, allowing the bartender to clearly see what he’s doing. The lights in the bar are dim, set on low.
0 kommentar(er)
