Post by sasha on Sept 24, 2017 16:23:49 GMT -5
The music was blasting through the space around her when she entered the bar, or rather the club. Slowly taking off her jacket she let her eyes curiously wander around the place. A bar, some lounges, a stairs leading up, the dancefloor in the middle. A classic scenario. Some things barely changed no matter where you went. Slurring drunks were not an exception. Dodging one of those overly confident muscle bags she shook him off in about four seconds of swiftly moving through the crowd.
Instead of looking for some room where she could leave her jacket behind Sasha chose to hold onto it and made her way to the side of the bar. One or two drinks wouldn’t take long, she could sit on the jacket if the stools would have no backrests. It wasn’t a disaster.
“A White Russian, please.” She said, placed her phone on the wooden surface and watched the bartender leave. The drink arrived not too much later which Sasha was grateful for.
“Thank you.” A smile, a nod. She played with the cold glass between her fingers.
If she had been spending a lot more time just sitting there she might have left the place. Noisy, quite crowded and filled with the wrong type of people, well, it might have been a mistake to come here. Even if the drink was good. She took another sip to kill some of her senses. It didn’t work as fast as she wanted it to. That’s why she sighed, heavily.
Should have picked another place, a more quiet one
Lightly tapping the screen to see what time it was she returned her attention to the drink. A couple of people hung over the bar on her right, trying to get the bartender’s attention - who was ignoring their drunk calls. She had to admit that she might have as well. People sometimes didn’t know when to stop drinking and then the ones selling the alcohol had to step in.
331
Instead of looking for some room where she could leave her jacket behind Sasha chose to hold onto it and made her way to the side of the bar. One or two drinks wouldn’t take long, she could sit on the jacket if the stools would have no backrests. It wasn’t a disaster.
“A White Russian, please.” She said, placed her phone on the wooden surface and watched the bartender leave. The drink arrived not too much later which Sasha was grateful for.
“Thank you.” A smile, a nod. She played with the cold glass between her fingers.
If she had been spending a lot more time just sitting there she might have left the place. Noisy, quite crowded and filled with the wrong type of people, well, it might have been a mistake to come here. Even if the drink was good. She took another sip to kill some of her senses. It didn’t work as fast as she wanted it to. That’s why she sighed, heavily.
Should have picked another place, a more quiet one
Lightly tapping the screen to see what time it was she returned her attention to the drink. A couple of people hung over the bar on her right, trying to get the bartender’s attention - who was ignoring their drunk calls. She had to admit that she might have as well. People sometimes didn’t know when to stop drinking and then the ones selling the alcohol had to step in.
331