The Pick UpMature


He saw the girl at the bar from the door.  She was seated alone, perched on a bar stool and trying to engage the bar tender in idle conversation as she sipped at her drink.  Music from a juke box made idle conversation challenging and the barman barely flashed a smile as he continued to swab the bar down with a rag.

     “Is this seat taken?” he pointed at one of the empty stools at the bar and grinned at her as she swung round to see who had addressed her.

     “Sure,” she slurred, not really answering the question.  “You can pull up a stool.”  She turned on her best smile, a little fuzzy round the edges already from the happy hour cocktails.  Her lipstick; bright red, was smeared, mostly over the glass in front of her.

     “How about I buy you another of those,” pointing at the remnant of the brightly coloured cocktail.  “Or do you fancy joining me in partaking of something a little harder?”  The double entendre was not lost on her; she clasped his hand in hers and fluttered heavily mascaraed lashes at him in response.  He called for a bottle and two glasses.

     He didn’t have to do much talking; she seemed to have got well oiled way before he even got there.  He had imagined it might be a bit more challenging than this, that he might have to ply more than one girl with drinks before he found the right one, but this one had pretty much landed in his lap.  That was fine by him; it meant he got more time alone with the girl before he had to bring the other two in on the action. 

     He was more than willing to share with his friends, but it had been his plan, and he was the one that was in here; risking being seen with the girl in the first place.  Let them wait; they had plenty of beers to keep them going while he had his bit of fun with the girl.       

     About a third of the bottle in, she dragged him on the dance floor.  He had pretended to resist as she persuaded him by drunkenly grinding in the general direction of his lap; he happily joined her in a dark corner of the floor.  She was too drunk to do more than lean against him, arms draped around his neck, a few more drinks and he would have to carry her out of here.  Glancing at the clock, he figured he could stretch that out until closing time pretty much.

     When the guy behind the bar made noises for them to leave, she was well and truly out of it.  He was surprised the guy actually let him walk out with a girl who was clearly that wasted, but apparently it was above his pay grade to worry about that sort of shit.

     As the doors swung shut and were bolted behind them, he half carried her towards the van, stopping only once to retrieve the shoe she lost.

The End

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