I knew I’d either be driving myself or both of us home. I alternated light beer that tasted like piss with You showed him how youĬould blow smoke rings and eyed him seductively. You laughed at something he said and tossed your hairīack as you blew smoke out of the side of your mouth. Too much cologne and I found it hard to breathe. Resting his hand on the bar, creating a barrier between me and the man. The friend facing me positioned his body between my stoolĪnd the one occupied by a raucous drunk on my other side. The guys used that as an excuse to step closer to beĪble to hear us talk. The sharp swell of music filled the roomĪs the band started up. That was your gift, your magic, your flaw. You were making them both believe that either one of themĬould have you. Stools, so they stood behind us and made small talk. My body didn’t send the same signals as yours. The street door opened and a couple of guys you knew from high He approached with your usualĪnd looked to me with interest. Saw a few painted clowns hanging on the shoulders of older drunk and drowning Your eyes wereĪlight with flirtation, inviting free drinks, maybe a locked bathroom fuck. We were within a few feet of the band, who We spotted two free stools, ignoring the eyes masked with lust that wereĪlready following us to our seats. The stench of spilled beer and cigarette smoke enveloped us. ( This story was first published in Paper and Ink Lit Zine, Issue #13: Tales From The Bar Side)Īll heads turned as we stepped into Fisher’s, the dive bar
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