“Buy me a drink”
I had not even seen her sit down; I was staring into my beer, minding my own business, trying to work out how to get out of my contract. No one believes me now, but meeting women had not even been on my mind when I left work and headed straight to Dane’s.
Anyway I looked over, and unashamedly checked her out; after all she had just commanded me to buy her a drink. It seemed only fair. She reminded me of a young Janeane Garofalo; her sleeve tattoos left me wondering whether or not they continued under her crop-top. Now you can say it was low that I decided I liked the look of her, and so I was sold on buying her a drink, but it was more than her look. Her look was important for sure, but the gall to sit down next to a stranger and demand a drink added to the way she looked and with her overall demeanour as well, she was compelling.
I waved the barman over;
“Yeah, can I get another beer and whatever she’s having, please, man.”
He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow;
“Black Jack on the rocks.”