The last Thursday of July was hot and slow, until she walked in. She wore white linen pants and a Gap button down, commanding the energy of the room every time and especially when she didn’t mean to. The bar was located inside of a food hall and was the only one in town that served her what she wanted.
The AC was a luxury. You were there again, tight jeans and a black crop top. She hoped for your sake that you’d been fired but understood how such a tiny waist and such shiny hair would warrant a second chance. She liked this place. She put what happened last time in the past where it belonged, and made sure to have cash for the tip you didn’t deserve.
Hasn’t anyone ever told you women are more generous? They take less. You assumed she was just visiting, passing through town like the men you play coy with. The ones who play too much with you, with their sunburnt skin and butchered spanish.
She tipped those that came before you better than the Americans tip you. They always remembered her favorite sours. And up until that night she had never even analyzed it. You. She wasn’t looking for you, just something to drink. And by trying to make things hard you made them too easy.
You watched her walk in and you did it again. Closed the bar with a rope and a Be Right Back sign. Slipped into position at the sushi counter next door where like clockwork you ordered the snow crab and ate it messily. You licked your fingers like you were being watched.
She waited for you to finish your food. Approaching the roped off bar, she played the fool, turning from side to side in attempt to find you, you tiny little thing. And just as she watched you lick your fingers and your lips she caught in her periphery the glance, the smirk, and how you hid, feet away from her, in your phone.
For two hours you sat there scrolling.
And for two hours she sat watching you. Getting hotter, thirstier.
And like last time, she had the manager approach you and ask if you were ready to go back to work. You weren’t.
And she thought to herself, such a pretty girl. And you thought to yourself dumb bitch.
Only you forgot about her too fast. You never even looked up.
You didn’t see her follow you.
Up the stairs and into the stall.
Her, who’s thinner than you, taller.
For the amount of times that you looked at her, you never saw her eyes.
She never meant for this. She really had such a bad day.
She continues to read the Friday morning paper. “Drained of blood… animal attack.”
Surreal and sour 🍹